Indigo

Lily’s POV
When I trudged into my apartment I was completely overwhelmed with a color I had never felt before: indigo. Grey-blue from sadness but the intense, deep purple of lost hope mixed furiously in my mind. He was all I had left. Why me, why do I deserve this? I peeled my eyes from the floor to look at the judgmental mirror on the wall. It screamed at me in a shrill, monstrous voice. It made me feel useless and vulnerable. I peered into my eyes through the glace and tried to make myself smile. “I am happy.” I whispered at my reflection. My faux smile faltered as I came to realize that that was the saddest lie to ever be told. I am not happy. No matter how much I try, nothing ever turns out right for me. Nothing; that is what I have: nothing. I might as well be dead. No one would care. No one ever cares. It’s not suicide if you’re already dead, right?
The indigo got darker and I walked to the kitchen. I was a midnight knight ready for battle with my vegetable knife of a sword. I did not hesitate to be engulfed by the thunderstorm of my brain. I welcomed the vampires to my neck, calling for them with my sword at my jaw line. “Off with her head!” a queen jeered from a far-off land. I slit my throat slowly. I collapsed to the icy tiles before the job was done. Maroon plasma and blood cells collected around me. My eye lids were anchors giving in to the waves. As I sank to the bottom of the ocean, I saw a glimpse of a frantic sailor pulling at my chain but I couldn't be salvaged as my chain wore thin; just a string holding me up. A strong string but a string none the less. My savior sailor held to that string until the anchor hit rock bottom and my eyes closed.