The girl stood in the middle of nowhere particular, nowhere anyone cared, a deserted wasteland, hot humid and lifeless. She stood there thinking back and trying to remember something. Trying to forget what she was so persistent on remembering. Forgetting is not enough and neither is running away. You can run to different parts of the world if you want, but you may think the memories are gone, though they will just keep floating back on the wind again and again and again. Her memories circled her like hungry vultures. The harsh, steamy memories devoured her. Her eyes hazy, clouded, and barley tear stained, she slowly faded away into the wind. Until, unless, something, someone, can do more than just cover her wounds