Sitting on the edge of the closed window, the others are full of color and happiness. Yet, I am here trying to survive without anything, no water, little to no sun. They’ve forgotten about me. I feel the fulfilled life I once had, coming to an end. I sense the god approaching us, feeling the strong satisfaction of mist against my brownish stems. As they get closer, the mist soaks into my stems but it’s still not enough for me to survive. The god is showering them one by one, taking their time to make sure they’re vibrant and moist. Waiting for my turn to get watered, I start to lose hope. They see me as a waste of space, wanting me to rot. I sense the vibration getting closer from their footsteps. The god is in front of me, not doing anything. They stare at my lifeless body, concerned but no action to solve it. They start moving away from me. I sense they also lost hope for me. My stems are weak, weak enough to not hold me in place anymore. I am gone and forgotten.