Fragile Black Rose

Introduction

©
This story has a few true events and emotions. Be warned that it will be heartbreaking. Don't judge her harshly, she was only naive. Please, enjoy.
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This wall is so white... Not a dent nor a scratch. Not a picture, nor a poster to give a clue of my interests and personality.

Just so empty.

I see myself in this wall. I have no identity, you can try to stereotype me but you'll just bump into a milestone. I'm different, not understood. Just like this wall here, it is not understood.

The reflection of my shadow glimmers from the dim lighting. Making the room look eerie, and it brings a sad smile to my face. That's what my life is like, eerie.

This story has no happy ending, so if that's what you're looking for I beg you to look elsewhere. This story is of a girl who lost so much, but maintained a smile on her face to spread some love. She had a smile on her face that had so much meaning, but people were only capable of capturing the thought that she MUST be happy...Right?

What no one knew, she never felt that love in return. So she sits in the silent darkness appreciating that white wall. It's the only one seeing her for what she really is, an empty shell with a bitter heart contemplating if a slit to the throat would be better than to the wrist.

Her cold eyes flicker between the sharp razor blade, mocking her thoughts, between her thumb and index finger, to the white wall in front of her. She wishes to paint that wall with the blood that'd drip from her flesh. To her that'd be a beautiful painting, it'd be reality. It would show her scattered heart created by the stabs she's received.

Her mind could only process the masterpiece she could blend in with the white wall. Her fingertips would act as a paintbrush, her blood the paint with the wall the never ending canvas. Her mind would conjure the strokes she'd make with her fingertips, leaving a picturesque image.

She closes her eyes and lets out a breathless chuckle reliving the pain she felt when she cut that one day. The memory appears as if it were on a projection, she remembers feeling nothing, then pain, then nothing again. It felt like it was just yesterday, but 'yesterday' still would've felt too long ago. She hungers to feel that again. Her skin itches for the cold metal to slide through the soft skin.

Her gaze follows the slight gleam of the blade as her fingers shake. Her thoughts clash, like an angel and a demon. There's no comprehending the voices in her head.

She'd like to see the blood drip down the walls slowly, as if she were watching her heart cry.

A slow grin passes upon her face, knowing that no one has the knowledge of what her twisted mind creates. They believe her madness is beautiful, but if they knew the depth of it they'd shake their head in pity. They'd try to lock her in a place with people that'd understand her.

Their incapability to acknowledge a sad girl, but claim that she is happy is astounding. At the end of the day, everything is her fault. "Listen to your elders" they'd say, if only she had listened...

As mentioned, a happy ending does not await you. You will witness the daily torture this girl faces. The saddest thing, she probably was loved or she was probably used just as she thought so at the end of the day there's no knowing if she makes the right decision.

The question you should ask yourself throughout, did this girl become so broken that she is now at the brink of insanity?

Or did she come to this world, insane, all along?