(trigger warning mentions of self-harm and depression)
Ronnie had always consistently stick to her two very crucial rules like it was a religion and without failure in her austere life.
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But the reality of being lonely forever was a gruesome everyday ponder for her. With the knowledge of knowing that this world is forever filled with fake and untruthful human beings, it made her create a wall, thousands upon thousands feet tall and only ever the bravest of knights attempted to break it down.
Her #1 rule always did cause internal battles between her mind and her heart, but never the less she grew accustomed to her lifestyle, never really letting it affect her or so that is what she wanted to believe, but after finishing her final year at college, she was lost.
Lost in the never ending thoughts of the future and not knowing what career she would fancy and with the forfeiture of support and love from her family she was true alone in this darkness of a world.
Ronnie was not always like this. In the past she was full of passion and love, but she was too naive to see what was really was happening in front of her.
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When a artist loses their passion, it is like losing energy. She always loved to compare art and passion with food. Maybe it was because they were so similar or maybe it was the fact she loved both of them, more so food.
But a artist without passion is no better than a musician without a musical instrument.
With one final hope, she saved up her wages from her ever so shabby weekend job at her local convince store, them boom, she was finally able to disappear.
A magical one way ticket to Seoul, Korea. She never really understood what drew her to Seoul. Was it the endless amount of food offered to her? Or was it the new scenery that could possibly bring back the lost passion Ronnie has been looking for? She did not have a clue.
(trigger warning)
The previous night was dreadful. Her crippling depression decided to play up, eating her moral thoughts away, turning her into a sobbing mess.
Cold metal met the warmth of her pale skin. The gliding motions against her inner thighs creating seamless lines of red making her once pale complexion rosy. Droplets of crimson met her pristine white bed sheets, she cared less for the stains and concentrated her attention back to her legs.
Ronnie felt pathetic, without any purpose or a shoulder to turn to, so this was her only option. The comfort from pain.
When the hurricane of emotions finally passed, the numbness of her cheeks finally came, the over biting of inside of her mouth and shredded lips was only part of the damage she had done to herself that night.
Rising from her fresh bloody bed, she tip-toed to her bathroom just to the left of her room. Searching for the light switch like a blind man, she finally felt the shape of the switch and flicked it with her index finger.
The brightness of the bulb made Ronnie's eyes squint, making them close shut to get use to the sudden intensity of light. Finally her eyes adjusted and she moved to the sink. Looking up from the sink she saw her reflection, or was it really her reflection.
Indeed there was a girl mimicking her movements but was it truly her?
The only indication that truly showed it was her was the honey-comb glistening eyes what glossed over with a fresh set of salty tears. Hints of life was there, in the back of the retina.
After cleaning herself up and patching up her new form of art she finally collapsed in bed, not bothering about her blood stained sheets.
Tiredness finally washed over her after all of her adrenaline left her body, making her fall into a dreamless sleep.
