Drip. Drip. Drip.
She sat on the flooded floor of the shower, water turning her skin red. She was completely naked, inviting the heat of the shower to burn every part of her, to douse her existence and melt her away somehow.
It was a sad and melancholy site. She knew it. She knew that if people saw her right now, they would pity her.
It doesn't really matter, anyway.
So there she sat, drowning in her somber and desolate thoughts; drowning in the water she wished would fill her lungs.
So there she sat.
YOU ARE READING
It Doesn't Really Matter, Anyway
Teen Fiction"I've always been small, unimportant, and invisible." Her name is Rie, short for Valerie, short for nobody-knows-I-exist, and she's just turned 18. She's always been the shy and uncomfortable type who felt more at home in bookstores and coffe...
