She was beautiful. That’s what I remember thinking as I saw her body that day, her slender figure and the freckles that dotted randomly on her skin. I took in every detail of her, watched her body for a half an hour of my life.
The blonde hair flowed down past her chest and rested by her sides as she lay peacefully. A pink and white bow had been carefully placed in her hair by the slim hands that lay by her side. The dress was identical to the bow that belonged in her blonde curls, she looked almost childlike.
The red lipstick she wore was slightly smudged and curled over the edges of her lips. Her nails were a deep red colour that stood out against the light background that lay behind her. My eyes were drawn to her as her body fascinated me. It was beauty, not the kind of beauty that magazines talked about, but beauty that really showed. The whole of her was beautiful, everything and every flaw that covered her body made her beautiful. Even the small red blemishes that appeared on her face attracted me to her. She looked happy, like her life was joyful.
Even the blood that stained her dress was beautiful. The stab wound that punched through her chest was beautiful. Her lipstick matched the blood that covered her hands and her dress, ironic really.
I watched as they moved her body that lay on the cold, metal slab. She was beautiful and she was dead.
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Random bits
RandomIn this story are: - Spare a thought - Tips to write good chapters - Want a cover for your story? :) - Don't you ever dare judge - A Story of Suicide
