Autumn King

Symptoms Of Hell

Autumn stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was so pale; ghostly even, as if someone had scribbled milky chalk on her face. Her eyes were the same, pale blue, the sort that changed colour in the light. She had dark, purple bags under her eyes and when she sucked in her cheeks, you could see all of her bones perfectly. She turned on the rusty tap and let the flowing of the freezing water sooze her.she placed her hand underneath the rush; even the where scary: thin and white, her nails bitten down to the wick. She let the water cool her, then splashed some in her face. She felt alive. Yet so, so dead at the same time. After drying her face with an old beige towel, Autumn walked out of the bathroom and into her room. Her bed was too sold to relax on and her dresser was out of option. she edged over to her windowsill, carefully wiping away the condensation. She had stapled old polaroid pictures of books and memories on the window frame. Autumn smiled at the memories as they came flooding back to her. She felt like someone had transported her back in time: she was skateboarding down the driveway, smiling with a strawberry ice cream in her hands, plaiting her hair with her friends. She could've sat there all day, in her own little world of memories. But something that she noticed in one of the pictures of her and her sister, Violet, made her freeze. The photos were moving. But that wasn't it. Autumn was looking maniacal. Her eyes were wide, swollen and red, staring straight at Violet. And the long, silver knife in her hand glistened on Autumn's face like a torch.