Reai looked into the mirror with a blank face, watching as the entirety of her world turned grey. The color from her face started draining, and her eyes dimmed into a black somberness. Melancholy filled the solemn air, as the water slowly dripped from the quiet cracks of the ceiling.
She stared down at the knife and smiled a little, finding comfort in the thought of death. Although the thought of being selfish and knowingly leaving with the fact she'd leave her loved ones with their woes was lingering in the back of her mind, she faltered in those sincere thoughts.
A small gulp coated her throat as she walked away and made her way outside, the knife still in her grasp with a letter left near the sink. She sat on the grass of her garden, tilting her head towards the sky and letting the light of the sun fill her irises with gleam. Though it was a gleam, it was a dull gleam, nonetheless.
She picked up the knife and held it against her throat, flashing a bright smile towards the clouds. With the sharpest clasp and firm press, she sliced her throat and watched herself fall to the ground, blood dripping down her neck. It was a beautiful death, as roses started blooming from the carnage of her own self-demise. Left in her garden would be the memory of her suffering, yet her thankfulness for the life her parents, and her friends gave her in the form of petals that would wilt their way into the ground every winter, seeping her soul into one with nature.
Her soul would be heavy, but next to her parents would be the lightest touch of guilt, as in death she wishes she could tell her parents it wasn't their fault, knowing the ink she blotched down wouldn't provide enough comfort to their souls, but add despair to their being, and pain to her memories.
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I honestly do not genuinely remember if this was a story vent or not...
