Every day a flower blooms and soon the petals start to fall, either because of age or because someone has stopped to pick it for their own enjoyment in the game of 'he loves me, he loves me not'. Now the flower dies.
It's a tricky thing life. I mean, here I am comparing it to a rose. But see that's the thing, people pick the prettiest rose and trim it so that the thorns can no longer harm them, this leaves the rose defenceless. My one defence was taken from me when I was 12, my parents. Some selfish bastard beat them to the pulp just for the god damn money, nothing more and nothing less. Instead of leaving me with that haunting image, -Because that apparently wasn't enough- he shoots them dead. Bang. Bang.
Today I'm 17, technically I will be 17 in a few minutes but who cares about time anymore. Everyone either doesn't bother thinking about it or feels that there isn't enough, I personally think there's too much. Needless to say, time is seriously overrated and so are party's because today I'm spending my 17th birthday in my room watching Netflix with my two favourite people, my friends that gave me my only support.
Oh yeah by the way my name, it's Sofia. Sofia Rose. And today, my petals begin to fall.
YOU ARE READING
Secrets Rest In Lies, A Petal Falls Then Dies
Teen FictionWhat beauty means is different to how it's treated or how it reacts. Each petal falls with a different meaning, though some fall without. Rose. A 17-year-old girl wishing for a better life, a new body. Each mirror seems to give her a bad review, fr...
