What she feels and what she wants to feel are two completely different things. She feels lost, like a page torn out of a book and used to clean up a mess, although she hoped no one ever did that to a book, no matter what the book was about. When a page is missing, the story will no longer make since. She feels like a page was torn out of the book about her life and nothing makes since anymore. What now? she thinks. What am I supposed to do? She doesn't know where to start. There are moments in the day when she just feels like sitting in a corner all alone and crying her eyes out. She doesn't know why. She just wants to cry. She feels like it would make her feel better.
What she wants to feel is loved. She wants to feel normal, and she wants to feel like there is at least one person in her life who gives a shit about her. All her parents are concerned about is each other. They don't care if she gets up and goes to school in the morning, or if she eats three meals a day, or if she drinks enough water to keep her alive. They don't care.
Of course, she does all these things, because she believes that there is something to live for; someone somewhere will come along one day and starting caring. So she does get up every weekday at six AM and goes to school, she does her school work, and her homework. She makes the grades. She eats three meals a day and she lives. She lives absently, in her own little world for a majority of the time, but she lives and walks and sometimes she talks.
One day, she hopes, someone will be there for her. Someone will love her the way her parents never did, never could, and she will feel like she has some purpose in the world. It is a small thread of hope, but it is her hope and it is what keeps her going from day to day without giving up.