Smiling in the rain

Chapter 1: Elsa

Songs for this chapter:

Bleeding Out~ Imagine Dragons

You Found Me~ The Fray

***

In the mirror, her eyes a passionate lush green of light reflecting off a forest pool.

All she sees is shattered porcelain, each fragment rimmed with red.

In the mirror, her lips a luscious peachy tone, perfectly shaped into a heart warming smile.

All she sees is a chapped lifeless pink and the coldness of her frown.

In the mirror, her skin a soft tanned olive colour, ridded of imperfection.

All she sees, is scarred, raw, crumpled paper of her arms and thighs and a pale, corpse-like face.

Her soul once soared like a free bird.

Now, all that remains is a caged bird, beads of blood oozing from its wings.

But it's not the cage that trapped the bird, it was the bird that trapped itself,

and wills itself to be chained forever.

***

The feeling of hot water gushing onto my back soothes my muscles and relieves me slightly of the tension accumulating in my head. A thought slowly seeps into my mind and adds to the piercing pain in my temples. I place the pad of my thumb to my temple and slowly start massaging it in a pathetic attempt to subdue the pain. I take a shuddering breath as I close of the tap with a loud creak. A soft sob escapes my quivering lips. I am astonished as I simply let the fat droplets roll freely down my cheeks. No, I tell myself. I harshly wipe away the salty reminiscence and open the tap again to splash cool water onto my face. I savour the refreshing feeling while it lasts, before I quickly grab my towel and wrap it around my body. I grab another and twist it expertly around my slick black hair and leave it in a rather large bun at the top of my head.

I dry down my body, careful to only dab and the blemished and crinkled paper which are my forearms. I yelp in pain when I reach my thighs. I had forgotten about last night's masterpiece. Fresh beads of blood trickle from the already existing scar. I groan as I rush towards the toilet paper. I unceremoniously tear off an uneven piece as hold it firmly to the gash. Once the bleeding has stopped, I toss the bloodied paper into the trash can and shimmy on my underclothes.

I turn on my heel and scrunch my nose at the hideous clothes Dana has left laid out for me that lingers from a hanger. I promised myself I would be tolerant of my mother today. Why? I guess I'm being more empathetic than I usually am. I make a mental note to rip off these clothes as soon as I enter the school premises and change. I take small steps towards it in disgust and hold it out in front of me. I press my lips together in a firm line and peel on the stockings. A mischievous smirk firmly plants itself on my former grim expression as I lunge for the scissors in the draw. I swiftly cut a thick line in the stockings at several places and stretch them out. I am satisfied when I accomplish a train track design in all the desired locations. Quite the artist I am. Just not for the the right purposes.

I squint at the obnoxious black pleated skirt that lies dangerously close to my vision. I have the urge to shred it into fine minuscule pieces, but I manage to hoist it onto my hips without much damage. The skirt lies much too long just above my knee so I decide to roll it up to mid-thigh. I am after all wearing this cleverly crafted stockings. I button up the unsightly black blouse and tie up the the end in a tight knot, exposing my belly-button piercing. I actually got it done just for this occasion. I knew Dana wouldn't approve. But that's the whole purpose. I don't want to be associated with any snobs from this posh- top-notch-in-the-state-school. So, I'll make them afraid. My usual signature style of piercings and black clothing just might seem to do the trick.