If there's one thing I did know about Rose it's that it wasn't her fault. She was different. It wasn't her fault that she lived in this Godforsaken town. She saw the world for what it was. We in a town painted in grey. She didn't want to be like the other girls with their short skirts and painted nails. She wanted to escape. I suppose we were similar like that. I didn't ever want to be one of those boys with scars on their arms and cigarettes in their pockets.
I wanted to be better than that. I saw fear painted onto the curve of her lips. Most kids got beat up for being weak. We were supposed to toughen up. I didn't want to. I didn't want to lose whatever I had. I didn't want to give in to their drugs and alcohol. I don't think she did either.
There was a glint in her eye. She always looked like she was trying to escape.
I guess in the end we lied to much that we drew on a mask to her face.
We forgot to see her for who she was.
But that doesn't matter.
We were too late.
YOU ARE READING
Why Rose died.
General FictionIt wasn't the chaos. It was the silence. The silence in her head. It was the silence in her mind that drowned her. She had grown empty long before she ended the war. She had nothing left to live for.
