Ashes to Ashes...

Her

Tell me about her.

~Deep breath in, deep breath out.~

''Never talked. Never smiled. She didn't like to eat. No one ever saw her eat. Not me, not her mother, only him. She was beautiful.''

~Shakey breath in, shaky breath out.~

''She always wore baggy clothes. Except once. One random day, she woke up and pulled on short white shorts and a black sleeveless crop top. Back before she met him. She was skinny as a stick, her rib cage poking out.''

~Blink the tears away.~

''Her hair was black, always down. Once, I grabbed her hand and her sleeve fell back. As you could guess, there were thin red lines, nice and cleanly cut.''

~The aching lump in my throat bobbed as I swallowed.~

''She locked herself up in that room of hers all day. Once, I peeked in. She was staring at the wall, without blinking as a tear silently made its way from her eye to the old wooden floor.''

~My eyes are squeezed shut.~

''Even at three in the morning, I looked through the key hole and she was in the same spot. Once a day she would come from that room of hers. On the week days, she went to school then came right back home and went straight to her room. On the weekends, at promptly twelve each day, she'd come downstairs into the bathroom, come out five minutes later, eat a small salad.''

What was her name?

~One edge of my mouth rises upwards.~

''Zoella.''