Run away with me

Sarah's soul is hurting, so badly that she wants to scream, but nobody seems to understand the severity of the pain that she is going through.
Then again, how could they know? She doesn't really understand it herself. Doesn't understand why it would be so incredibly, painfully frustrating to love something with all her heart, knowing that it's not real. Doesn't understand why she would care so much about people that don't even exist, in realities that won't ever come true. This burning passion, pleasant at first, is now occupying every space in her head, destroying every piece of her heart, and she can not stop it.

She's always been a bit obsessive about stories, but it's never been this bad before. Never before has the world filled itself with little whispers, little reminders, of What Is Not And What Will Never Be.

She tries talking about it, but nobody seems to listen.

So she writes. She writes and she writes and she writes as if her life depends on it, she explores every bit of this fictional world in her own stories, looks into the souls of the characters and peels them apart layer after layer, like onions, she knows everything and can make anything happen, and she keeps waking up with new ideas, until she doesn't.

One day she stares at her screen, fire burning in her heart, and there's nothing.

She doesn't sleep that night, keeps on twisting and turning, feeling like she's going to explode. It's like she can hear the characters talk, somewhere in her head, but it's far away and she can't make out what they are saying. There's thunder and lightning and beautiful, emotional moments, but it's all blurry, and the words won't come out.

It's a living hell.

She's not sure when it started, or how. She's not even sure what 'it' is.

All she knows is that, at some point, they're just there. She can see them. Firstly, out of the corner of her eye, disappearing as soon as she takes a good look at them, but after a while, they get bolder. They're finding a way into her life like they've always been there, sitting next to her in the classroom, waiting for her when she comes home and finds the chair by her laptop is already occupied. Some of them smile and talk to her, friendly enough; others always whisper their dark, evil plans and secrets in her ear, speaking conspiratorially, and others, like the blue-eyed angel, just stand in a corner and say nothing, staring into her soul like it's the most important thing in the universe.

One day, when the angel is gone, a flirty villain says: 'run away with me'.

And she does.

Her parents don't understand, even when they find the note. It says:

Discovering the world to find inspiration. Don't look for me.

All she took with her was some money, a pen, and her notebook.

They won't see her again, after that.