"Ruby Withermore. Age, 15. Gender, female. Height, I don't actually know, quite short," The Girl stared at her reflection in the large mirror before her, admiring her work. She said things like this all the time. To make herself feel special, as if someone was announcing her entrance at some important show. "The beautiful creation this young girl has made will amaze everyone everywhere in the world! And now, she will begin her work!" She closed her eyes for a moment, getting ready for what she was going to do next.
She took the large scissors out of her sweater pocket. She slid them slowly and carefully across her wrist, watching the blood slip down her hand, and drip down onto the fluffy carpet beneath her. She had a blank expression on her face, seeming emotionless. She then put the scissors up to her face, and slashed her right cheek. Blood slowly fell down her face, leaving a trail of deep red liquid on her soft skin. She touched the slash, and felt a tear roll down her cheek.
"Why... Why am I doing this...?" She asked particularly no one.
She turned and headed for her door. She twisted the handle, and walked out. The house was silent, and the echoes of her footsteps could be heard throughout the whole place.
The girl stood in front of a old, wooden door. It had a lock on it, and she pulled out a small, rounded key from one of her pockets. She inserted the key into the lock, and it clicked open. Ruby sighed, then started to step down the stone steps, slowly descending into the darkness. The smell down there was still horrendous, but she had gotten used to it by now. After all, anyone could get used to the smell of 3-month-old rotting corpses at the bottom of their basement, right...?
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Walked Away
Horor--Highest Ranking #74 In Horror-- "Freak!" "Idiot!" "So ugly!" "Ew, get away from me you weirdo!" "I...I'm sorry..." She was hated. She was despised. Everyone hated her. She had no point in living on. She took a step back. Then another. And another...
