Crimson

1

Love is not just a word or an emotion it's an entire world to someone and a foreign word for someone. I've never loved someone. It's an unknown feeling for me. From my childhood I was a shy and odd girl. I Never understand the importance of people in my life. Everyone seemed to be feeling love and falling in love while I was there talking to myself making imaginary friends. When I was 8 I lost my father. I didn't feel anything. I just felt ...... Numb? I didn't experience the pain or sadness that everyone else was feeling. I was close to my father. Closest I have become to a human. I talked to him and we made a lots of plans. He always tried to make me laugh only to see a blank expression on my face.

Laughter, happiness, pain and love are just some words for me because I never feel them.

I was slowly growing up and with me grew my walls. I couldn't lower them down for anyone. No one wanted to be with me they just pretended they wanted.

I grew up to face a lots of bullying and everyday the hollow and empty feeling increased in my heart.

I remember the day my bully cut my wrist and told me to die. The sensation the little pain gave me couldn't be described. It provided pleasure to me. The sensation was overwhelming. I couldn't wait to go back home and try it myself. I actually smiled that day.

When I reached home, I rushed home and found a blade in my drawer. I took the object to bathroom with me. I let the cool metal touch my skin before applying a little pressure on it. Slowly a crimson line appeared on my wrist. The Crimson was begging to escape from the pale little wrist and make it's way to the floor.

My skin was now traced in a beautiful crimson line. It looked very beautiful to me and I got so attracted to it that I wanted it permanently in my skin.

The crimson brought a new form of beauty to my hand. To the pale hands which were thin and ugly. The crimson made my wrist look beautiful and for once I felt beautiful.

Day after day the marks and scars increased and so did the emptiness in my heart. I truly felt... Empty and it was a numbing yet comforting pleasure to me

Now as I was tattooed in little crimson scars and marks all over my arms and wrist I started pushing people away even more. The people around me tried to confront me. They tried to know me, they tried speaking to me. They acted like they cared but I knew they didn't. They all treated me like I was nothing but a pity. That's all I was a pity, a charity case, an experiment, a notebook in which Everyone wanted to write their name. People tried to write their name in Golden colours in my heart but they didn't understand that colour fades away in the darkness.

No matter how much they try to fix my soul they can't because you can only fix a thing that's broken not a thing that Never existed..