i tried my best to describe her resemblance with art. she did not believe me. she believed those days when crowds whispered around the halls; she believed her mind which told her that she was not capable of love; she believed in the dreadful night after returning from work; she believed her mirror and the abyss of what history may speak about. what she did not understand was her eyes. her black chestnut eyes which rained everytime she was alone. she didn't believe her face which contoured the lazy outlines of the day. she didn't believe the way her lip quivered when everyone would laugh at her jokes. she didn't believe in herself even after getting an A in her test. she liked to argue that she was nothing but a plain, stiff disaster which parents asks to avoid. she liked to think she was danger when everything about her was softness and cozy. she was a beautiful, beautiful person, yet the complexions inside her mind weren't cordial and neat. her mind never did her justice. i would tell her that she made me believe in the world but she would laugh it off and say that i have grown on them. that she could never say anything so unbelievable. that wasn't true, Rosie. i have always loved you for whoever you were and that's all i wanted you to know. - Narissa - this story is written in Narissa's pov. ©all rights reserved to vaulce. [16/08/2022] - [26/10/2024]