I Was Pretty.

Untitled.

Warning: This story heavily revolves around themes that may be uncomfortable for certain people to read including mentions of su*cide and depression. It is a very dark plot and is written in the same way. Please do feel free to skip this if you're uncomfortable with these topics.     

(The song above was one of the many songs that my playlist generated while writing this, so do play it while reading)

'And remember! I always love you!' Read, 3:15 am. Mira sighed heavily, shutting her phone off, and burrowing in her duvet. Did they actually like her? They said on multiple occasions that they did, but did they really mean it? She checked her phone once again and as expected, she hadn't gotten a response yet.      

She didn't even know why she tried anymore. Was she really that undeserving of love? Did she really turn people off to such an extent that they hate it when she texts them? She didn't have answers to these questions, but she hoped, prayed, that she was wrong.

Without realising, tears fell from her eyes, and before she knew it, she was sobbing. She bit her lip to contain the sounds, afraid that she'd wake her parents. Was staying up until 3 am really worth it if they don't respond?

Mira knew the answer she'd give if it were someone else: they're not worth your time. But Mira didn't know if she'd take her own advice.

Was there anyone she could confide in? No. Sure, she had friends, but would they really understand where she's coming from? She was always 'the mood maker, 'the happy virus' and the one who gave advice.

Would there be someone who would understand her the same way she understood others?

Mira was almost certain that her pillow was drenched with tears at this point. She knew that losing her sleep and tears over someone who probably wouldn't do the same was pointless, that didn't mean that it hurt any less.

To think that the amount of time, love, and effort she put into relationships might not be reciprocated stung in a corner she never knew existed.

Mira knew it was hypocritical of her to expect something in return but was it really foolish of her to expect what she'd given others? Was it really too much to ask, if she wanted someone to love her the way the sailors loved the sea and the Dragon its hoard?

Perhaps it was her fault, but can you really blame her? Isn't it so ironic how people ask her for help, but she has no one to turn to?

Mira entered the campus with her earphones plugged in, wearing an extremely oversized hoodie and her head bowed down. She opted to sit at the furthest seat from the entrance of the class, almost as if she wanted to blend in.

The teacher missed her name on the roll call. No one noticed. History. Math. English. Psychology and even Music. No one noticed that she was in class. No one noticed that she was gone.

This was the reality check she needed. No one actually cared. Not her parents, not her siblings, not her friends. It hurt to think that the people that she would give her life up in a heartbeat for, didn't even notice her as something other than a cheap therapist.

It had been a week now. Mira hadn't talked to anyone for a week. Not to her parents, not her siblings, not even her teachers. No one knew where she was, and they didn't even care.

Another day of college done and another day gone by where she felt absolutely miserable. Mira walked home quickly and dashed to her room and took out a canvas.

Painting. Mira always turned to music and painting when things weren't the best. 'Hang in there.' They always seemed to tell her, 'Things will become better soon.' 

 But for the first time, the strokes of the brush and notes of the keyboard did nothing to help her.

She checked her phone once again.

'You have 0 messages' Of course. Mira wasn't even mentioned in some of the group chats she was in.

It was almost as if the whole world forgot about her.

Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks, Was she really that insignificant? She quickly grabbed her bag and ran outside. For a moment Mira expected, hoped even, that her mother would call her inside; but to no avail. Her mother was so preoccupied with talking to her brothers that she didn't even notice Mira running out.

There was one place she always sought refuge, especially when her thoughts were all over the place like they were right now: the hiking track overlooking the freezing river.

And so she ran. She ran as far as her feet would let her; never having run this fast for this long in her entire life.

Panting, she made it to the top. She looked down at the river; how easy it would it be if she were to just--

Maybe this was the only way her mind would be in peace. Maybe she will finally be happy. Maybe Mira will find the haven she was so desperately trying to find.

Even now, the only thing on her mind was: 'Will they notice that I'm gone? Will I finally be happy and loved?'

Will they look back on how insignificantly they treated her? Will they regret not spending time with her; or will they not notice? Will they pretend like nothing had happened and forget her as if she were a mere passerby on the streets?

Only time will tell.

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A/N: 

This is something I had in my drafts for a long time. I remember writing this in a very short period of time while listening to some angsty music so this piece mimics that. It's really dark, but it's a reflection of myself (?) If you can call it that? I hope I'm making sense because it's 4:30 am and I'm heavily sleep-deprived haha. I hope yall enjoyed reading and as always, see you next time :))