Novella

crimson

I'm honestly not into goth music, but The Birthday Massacre is an exception! They are wonderful, especially their songs Looking Glass and In The dark. -Nico

Crimson was my favorite color. Crimson was a color I considered as innocent.

Crimson was my favorite person.

She was pretty. Big doe eyes, pink and plump lips and small, cute nose. However, the wounds she carried were not pretty. You wouldn't be able to see it with the naked eye; you couldn't. She hid it so well, better than any actor.

She was full of lies, full of hurt. When I approach her, she turns around, looks at me with a frightful expression, turns back and runs away.

I didn't know why. Every time she did that, a little piece of me slowly breaks. Each piece of me was shattering.

I saw her.

I saw the color crimson running out of her.

She couldn't take it anymore. She decided to end it.

All by herself.

I cried and wailed. 

I watched as I slowly disappeared. Agonizingly slow. I watched as my tears dropped.

But not a single one made it onto the ground for they disappeared.

At that moment I realized, I was Crimson.

Crimson was the girl I loved and came to know.

One day, she started feeling terrible about herself.

I was watching. "It's probably just one of those days."

Every single day, I came up with excuses. 

Until she was gone.

"Now I understand. It was my fault. All my fault." I whispered as the last part of me vanished.

Crimson no longer existed.