“I'm broken and you don't care!” Ashleigh Lynne screamed at the one person who was always there for her, the one person who always listened to her. But the face that once smiled so sweetly was now indifferent and emotionless to her pain and suffering. The eyes that once looked at her so lovingly, so caringly, were now cold and stared at her with such hate and disdain.
She thought everything would be fine, everything would be alright once she confessed her true feelings. But that's when everything changed; that's when she lost her only friend. And as Ashleigh Lynne drags the blade across her wrists, she's not stopping her. The drops of crimson, as they fall so tenderly to the beige linoleum, tell a story of her past, of the girl she once knew. That girl who, at one time, would have begged her to stop. Instead she now stood silent, her cold eyes urging her to finish it, to drag the blade a little further, a little harder, a little deeper.
The feelings which were confessed were not that of love; her confessions were of hate. It was easy for awhile, easy pretending to love her, easy fooling the world into believing the same. But she couldn't do it anymore. The girl she harbored such feelings of hatred for mocks her; she mocks her with her taunting, her false sense of security. She looks so pretty to the world with her long blonde hair always done nicely, her clothes that are always in style, her big blue eyes that could make anyone swoon. All were a mask, a disguise for her true self to hide behind, to fool an unwitting audience.
She stared into those cold, dead, unrelenting eyes and screamed her hatred until her voice was raw, as crimson love fell to her feet from the lines across her wrists. She stared into those mocking eyes... she stared into her own until the world around her began to grow darker until she could no longer see herself for the person she really was.