Laura stared out of the window, but she couldn't see him. Well she wasn't actually sure whether it was a 'him' or a 'her', but it was definitely a face.
A face that would stare out of that window, watching the world go by. Always on time, or more so always staring no matter the time.
That face seemed to hold sadness, yet at times there would seem to be a glimmer of hope.
Sarah would wake in the morning, and whilst cleaning up the front room her eyes would roam and gaze out of the window.
There was that face, staring, just simply staring.
Sarah would go to close the curtain as the sun came down and there, that face simply staring.
The sound of police cars, ambulances racing to get to a particular place at a particular time. It was common. Sarah released the curtain, turned the TV up to drown out the noise. Bad neighborhood, cheap rent, face the consequences.
In the morning, again, she would look out of the window long enough to see if the face was there. There it was. Eyes meeting with each other, there seemed to be no glimmer of life in the eyes that stared back. It was definitely a girl, her hair caught around her face gave it away.
So accustomed was Sarah to peeking out of her window, so frequent did she see the blank staring face.
Sarah heard sirens one day, yet again was the norm, but a little closer to home this time.
She looked out of the window, saw ambulance and police surrounding that house. A stretcher carrying a body. She picked up the paper the next morning to read that a young girl had been in imprisonment in her house by her parents, fed practically nothing for at least a year. The life had simply left the young girl as she gave up the will to live, subjected to a lifetime of horror and abuse at the hands of her parents.
Passing by a neighbour one day, Sarah said ''Do you know what happened over there, that house with all the police?'' The neighbour replied.
Didn't you read the paper? It was the girl that was known for 'staring out of the window' ''.
Sarah searched the net and got an article up in front of her.
'That young girl was known to many as 'the girl that simply stared'. A face that cried out for help, but her silent cries went unnoticed. May her soul rest in peace''. The article read.
Sarah sat on her couch and cried. She cried the for the face that she knew so well, the image of her imprinted in her mind, but was unknowing to do much to help. A face she would never see again.