Emily

“My soul can burn in h..." Her pale hand slowly went limp. Consciousness slowly slipped from the timid girls embrace and she collapsed into the shadows which had consumed her room. Her bloody body lay on the ground as blood continued to drip from the wall. A blood scarred razor blade fell from her hand into a pool of quickly drying blood.

[Flashback]

Failure.

Pathetic.

The words had completely lost any meaning to her. This time they came in the horrible raspy, whiny tones from the lips of her most hated teacher. It was this teacher, who successfully destroyed every last bit of love she had of English. In the eyes of this horrible teacher her creative writing was apparently "too graphic” and “too dark and creepy”. Mrs. White although, loved by “all” her students, was the thorn in the side of the timid girl.

She used to spend all her time being angry at the world, everyone in it; wishing she was dead. That was until he came. Her Prince, her love, her never failing light in her dark world. Jeremy, he was great. He loved her totally, would do anything for her. They would sit together and watch the sunset, walk on the beach together, and do all those other things that happy couples did but her happiness destined to end in flames.

[Present]

Darkness' embrace slowly lost its hold on the girl and releasing her onto the rocky path of piecing together what had happened. The girl sniffed the overwhelming smell of half dried blood jolted her senses awake and she saw the blood on the wall, the floor, and her wrists. The girl slowly figured out the act she had once again committed. She panicked, quickly ran off to her boyfriend’s house; she had to tell him what she’d done. She ran around to his house, her clothes covered in blood. People looked at her concerned but did nothing; they always did nothing. No one ever cared. When she arrived she found that his front door was ajar. She slowly pushed the door fully open with her shaking hand. She slowly walked in calling his name.

The image she came upon was destined to change her life completely. Her boyfriend was hanging from the ceiling, his body slowly twisted as the rope stretched. The rope was tightly tied around his neck, anchored to a rafter; the internal ceiling had been lifted to provide access. Blood slowly dripped from his fingertips, landing into a puddle which had already formed on the dusty, wooden floor. She progressed further into the room, unsure what to do. the wall in front of her was covered in a message written in his blood. "I can’t go on anymore, maybe if someone cared; the world wouldn't seem so gray. My only hope is for my suffering to ease. I’m truly sorry for the intense pain this will cause you Emily. I wish it didn’t hurt you because I love you".

Emily ran out of the old wooden house, floorboards creaking as she left. As she rounded the corner onto a desolate street, a lonely tear dropped down her delicate face, leaving a glittering trail from the deep blue orbs that were her eyes. It smudged her black eyeliner as it dripped from her eye. She came upon her ‘house’ and barged through the front door, it creaked terribly. She took the stairs two at a time and inside her room; her neatly manicured fingers picked up the bloody razor blade from the pool of blood; the walls still dripping with blood. She was going to end it all, then and there. She had nothing to live for. Through a torrent of tears she placed the blade to her wrist once again; she slowly drew it across the skin, tearing it. She winced as blood dripped out slowly from the cut. She etched his name into her already scarred arm. Her lonely sobs slowly allowed her to fall asleep. The images that haunted her dreams that night were of him hanging up there, the image burned itself into the back of the her mind.