The bath water was hot but still couldn't lull Fawn to sleep as she had hoped. She leaned forward and flicked the knob to turn on the shower. As the water poured over her, she continued to loudly sob. 

     She pulled her knees up and watched the bath water slowly rise as thoughts of her life clouded her heart. 

     "When will this end?" she cried to herself. "I don't want to be here anymore." 

     The water rippled, bubbles multiplying at the surface with each pounding of the steady stream. A multitude of philosophical observances that paralleled her life overflowed her conscious mind without even one offering a reprieve from her despair. 

     “Tiger tiger, burning bright, in the forests of the night…” 

     She sighed without completing the poem. Only the first stanza mattered to her. 

     “When will you come for me, my tiger? I’ve dreamed of you so many times, but you’re not here. I can’t do this alone anymore,” she cried. 

     She lowered her head beneath the crook of her bent arm and continued to dwell on all the things that led to her fragile psyche. 

     As she cried, she heard a noise from the other side of the shower wall. She quieted and listened. There were heavy footsteps followed by the water turning on. 

     In the months she'd been a new resident, she hadn't heard a sound. She had hoped the other apartment would remain vacant so she could have privacy in her woeful state. Pretending all was well during the day took its toll on her, and this was the only time she could truly contemplate her inner demons.

     Suddenly, as the night before, she was no longer alone. She had believed someone new had moved in, but a phone call that afternoon from her landlord informed her otherwise. There was already a tenant in that apartment, but he’d been out of the country since before her arrival. The landlord promised he was quiet and she’d never be bothered by him. All she had to do was follow the rules of the lease and keep to herself. 

     That was certainly something she could do. Following rules had been ingrained upon her since early childhood to the point it was a compulsion. Keeping to herself was, also, an effortless task for someone who wanted nothing more to do with other people than was absolutely necessary to survive. 

     The sound of her neighbor moving around made her place her hand against the wall. It was some semblance of contact with another life, but from a safe place. Here, she could reach out but not touch. Just the feeling that she wasn't alone stirred her heart for a moment. 

     As much as pushing people away helped keep her safe, she’d wished so often she could be part of someone’s life. The realization that she wasn't, that this person didn't even know she existed, made her begin to cry once again. 

     She wrapped her arms around herself and flicked the stopper with her toe to drain the tub. When it was empty, she replaced the stopper and let the water rise with the steady pouring shower. 

     "Where are you?" she sobbed. "Why won't you come for me? I know you're there somewhere. I can't stop dreaming of you and feeling you in my heart. I don't even know who you are, yet you make me feel abandoned." She sobbed loudly again and clutched at her sides in a desperate hug. "Please, come for me. Please." 

     The night drew close and before she realized she had cried herself to sleep, the rising water woke her. The deep tub was filled so high, water lapped at her nose. Without turning or sitting up, she flicked the plug again with her toes. 

     She listened to the gurgling water as it drained and sighed. She had left the light off since the late afternoon sun had been bright enough through the high bathroom window. As she looked through the glass door, she could see it was late. 

     Reluctantly, she showered off beneath the cooled water. Her black hair cascaded down her back, reaching well past her waist, and shimmered in the blue glow of the full moon. She took a deep breath and stared at it through her uncovered window. She was on the third and highest floor, and there were no buildings on this side that could look in. She liked it there. It was peaceful. 

     Remembering about the sounds from the other apartment, her shoulders slumped. She stepped out onto a thick sage-green rug and wrapped a matching towel around her naked flesh. The early night was colder than it had been hours earlier, so she wrapped a thick robe around her shoulders, as well. 

     Slipping into her soft slippers, she left the bathroom for a set of bed clothes. She’d warmed them in the drier before showering, but they were cold after so long of sitting on her bed. She slipped into them, anyway, and stepped over to a wicker book case. 

     Pulling a jar from a shelf, she lifted the lid and looked inside. She sighed as she stared at the white powder sitting within.

     “Someday,” she said softly. “Someday, I’ll be brave enough.”