“Ms. Evergreen? Ms. Evergreen? Can you hear me?”, asked a calm voice. As much as I wanted to answer, I wasn’t going to. I just didn’t care enough to. I didn’t ask to be here. No one asked me then, so I am not answering now. I know, sounds childish, immature. They don’t know what I go through. Everyone wants to act like they have answers for me, like they can help me. Lots of advice. All I hear is noise, chatter, static. Whatever, I will just let them keep on talking, but until they are ready to listen, I mean really listen, I will keep up the act, the façade of a woman who is not here, but far away in her own blank space.