She closes the door and locks it, still feeling the pain tearing her heart. She walks down the street to a store, but doesn’t care about anything she does. She enters and looks around, her eyes filling with tears as she spies a teddy bear, or a frilly dress. Yet no one notices.

She picks out a few insignificant items and get in line. Behind her is a church-going woman, busy reading the headings off magazines. Her hands tremble as she lays down her purchases and gets out her money. Yet no one notices.

She goes to the park and sits on a bench. Her face is filled with sorrow and loneliness. She thinks of the daughter she lost. A woman who cooks for the homeless once a week passes, thinking of soccer practices and bake sales. A compassionate man who helps people in his office every day passes, worrying about traffic and delays. The woman’s eyes search every face, wondering if they could understand the pain she is going through. Yet no one notices.

As she walks again, she passes a church and hears music. She enters, sitting quietly in the back. She wonders if her soul can find peace here. The pastor talks of loving your neighbor, the songs speak of reaching out. There she sits, even after the service is over, still wondering if someone will find time to aid her. The people mill around, making small talk. A few even throw questioning glances in her direction, but are too caught up in their own lives to reach out to her. Her eyes fill again; she feels abandoned and rejected. Yet no one notices.

She wants help. Yet no one notices.