Lights out.
She placed the bottle of red wine she kept on her desk.
She pulled out her chair and sat down.
She sighed.
Another long day, huh?
She somehow managed to open the bottle of red wine with that tiny strength left in her.
It's just too energy draining to think about someone, right?
What's more to say someone who doesn't even care about you anymore.
She poured a decent amount of the wine into the glass she brought in along.
She reached for the glass and took a sip as she placed the bottle of wine on her desk.
She leaned her back against the back of the chair.
As usual, she spun in her chair.
While holding onto the glass of red wine.
Today's the day to get drunk, huh?
She gulped down the remaining red wine in the glass.
"You'll either get drunk easily or diarrhea if you drink on an empty stomach." He said.
Yeah.
And that's exactly what we want now, isn't it?
She stopped for a moment.
She got up and went into the kitchen.
Soju is a better choice when it comes to getting drunk.
She took out the bottle of soju she had in the fridge.
She opened the soju, grabbed a soju glass.
Classic.
And she made her way to her room.
Once she sat down on her chair, she filled the glass with soju.
The only pure liquid she would love to gulp down right now.
And just like that.
Shots after shots.
Bit by bit.
You're almost there, my dear.
She stopped and looked at her wrist.
What a pretty art you've carved out right there.
Thank him if you ever see him on the streets again.
Three lines.
It's the first letter of his name, huh?
But it meant so much more than just the first letter of his name.
You brought yourself to do it.
Like finally.
Congrats for the first cut/art.
Tears started streaming their way down her cheeks as she sat on her chair, staring into space.
She got used to it.
This isn't her first day crying at the thought of him, anyway.
It gets different each day she cry.
Heartaches, light sobs and boxes of tissues for the first few days after rejection.
Light sobs and boxes of tissues for the next few days.
Tears were the only thing she had left for the rest of the years.
No more light sobs.
No more heartaches.
No more boxes of tissues.
Just tears.
How unfair.
Why's your life like this?
She opened her drawer.
Greetings, scissors.
It's been weeks since I've seen you.
She took out the scissors.
Oh wow, look at that remaining blood stains.
It sure looks tempting for another art.
How about the other wrist?
To be fair, you see.
"Don't. Don't do it."
"If you have anything, just tell me."
These words popped up in her mind.
Come on, it won't hurt to have another art.
Beautify it.
It'll look stunning, I promise.
But promises are meant to be broken.
That's why no one keeps their words.
Everyone becomes what they once promised they'll never be.
She placed the scissors back into the drawer and closed it.
She brought her legs closer to her, hugging her knees, and cried.
Not again.
It'll look nice, I swear.
Just do it.
He doesn't even care about you anymore.
He won't bother.
He won't even see it.
Do it.
It'll be nice.
She buried her face onto her knees as she cried silently.
Do it quietly.
You wouldn't want someone to stop you from your stupid thoughts, would you?
Say hi to light sobs, my dear.
She packed everything.
She went to bed after keeping everything back to where she took them from.
She laid her tired body on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
With tears streaming down again, she closed her eyes.
Sleep, my dear.
Soon, she drifted off to sleep.
