"Why did you do it." Her gaze lingered and danced over her unsatisfying reflection. "What did I do wrong." She glared at the excess contour in her physical features, the brittle texture of her hair, and the dispassionate aura in her stale eyes. "Why did it have to be me." A faint glow overcame the dullness in her eyes as her mind began to draw her towards a small rectangular can. "Will this make anything better?" She grasped the can with her scrawny, neglected fingers and staggered towards her unmade bed to draw a plain, lousy circle with the fluid inside the can. "I take it all back." Before climbing into the circle, she wrote a small message on her tattered burgundy rug and lit it with quivering hands. "I wish I had the dignity to apologize." She took an old scarf and wrapped it around her mouth, holding in any future regrets. 'But there really is no reason.' She thought. Her frail limbs carried her towards the bed and she climbed onto it with the utmost care, as if she were hoping not to break it. 'I guess we could blame it on a lot of things, or we could just admit that we were never meant to be; but I've never stopped loving you.' She watched as the area around her began to swallow itself whole, and for a moment there she understood the true meaning of beauty. Her body convulsed and her heart and soul had melted like wax, but she found pleasure in every moment of it. She made no move to scream or fight her inevitable fate, but she was careful not to wreck this incessantly lustful feeling; she was careful not to wreck herself with it.