She looked down and there she saw the little shreds of red staring back at her. Those replicas of the long lost traces of her mind and her soul written there, right on her arm.
"I dont know what to say. I dont know what to do. All i know is that there's this lovely little feeling that shoots up my arms, leaving me with a tingly sensation behind my eye's."
Lost again. Yeah, she's drowning. Drowning in something red.
Pretend is not a fun game.
She plays pretend every day.
"I've heard it all. I am loved? Not for what i am. I just have to get by somehow. I just have to develope myself with this defect."
She's gone.
"I'd like to leave the house, but I can't."
Is there a point in trying to stop her from opening up that little box of blades now?
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