Don't go feeling sorry for yourself (open)

The dusty room stretched out in front of Madeline, beckoning her with it's forbidden nature. Which was silly, because she knew she was a member of the staff and she was allowed to be here. However, that didn't stop her from pausing right inside the doors to the old ward. Something told her that she shouldn't be here, rooted her to the spot where she stood. Looking around her, she saw the rows of beds, a few seemed to have been disturbed recently, and scuffled foot prints marked a path between the rows of beds. See? you're not alone in your curiosity. She tried to calm herself, telling herself that it was all fine and she had nothing to fear. With a firm shake of her head and a stomp of her foot, she marched straight across the isle to the window and threw open the curtain, hoping that some natural sunlight would chase away her paranoia. Her shoulders fell as her eyes looked out upon the dreary grey storm clouds that had rolled in during the day. Any chance of sunshine had likely left the area hours ago.

Running her fingers through her hair, she leaned against the windowsill and asked herself why she was doing this to herself. Couldn't she just sit in her apartment and read a book? Or maybe sit in the staff lounge and talk to people? No, despite all her years of socialite training, she still couldn't gather herself to go mingle. Pulling her phone out of a pocket on her apron, she read back over the last few texts she had received from friends in the states. Laura was seeing a doctor and preparing to live the life they had all planned on. Julia was still in therapy, but she was seeing a nice musician who managed to keep bread on the table. Her childhood friends had splintered off into their own lives, each of them seemingly happy. Each of them had moved on, well, except Julia, but she was never the most stable of their circle. Snapping her phone closed and sliding it back into her pocket, she glazed out across the grounds and wondered weather or not she was doing the right thing, living the life she was trying to live.

She mulled her thoughts over in her head as she went from window to window, tying back the curtains on each one to let in what little light the storm clouds granted her. Near the end of the row, her hip bumped into a side table, knocking things over and onto the ground. Sighing, she knelt down to pick up a photo frame. She brushed the dust off with a corner of her apron and smiled sadly at the family the grinned happily back at her. It was an old photo, but the clothes that the parents wore were obviously nice for their time. The children were smiling happily, and Madeline wondered if it was the little girl or the little boy in the picture who had laid in the bed beside her. Sitting down, she brushed her fingertips over their faces and let a tear build up on her eyelashes before wiping it away. Nothing could bring back her family, any of them, but the pain was still a hot rock in her stomach, aching and weighing her down. She rested her forehead in her hand, and cried quietly in the ill-lit attic, thankful for the thundering rain that began to pour.