Prologue
"You stupid bitch!" another foot connected with my ribs.
"Why couldn't you be a fucking smart and sensible girl!?" I wrapped myself into a tiny little ball as the fists, feet and insults connected with me.
"One day you'll learn that sluts like you aren't loved, they just get used!"
And suddenly the thrashing stopped, footsteps faded, I kept my eyes tightly shut as I sung in a whisper, reassuring myself that I would be okay.
"Even when your life crumbles
Even when you want to die
Just don't give up
There's no need to cry
Tomorrow's another day
Soon your angel will come
And make things right
It'll protect you forever
Hold you throughout the night
So don't give up
Hold your head up high
Your angel will be there
Every time you cry..." –Your Angel by Shadow Silver Wolf
Finally after hours passed, I uncurled myself and stumbled over to my cracked mirror.
My face was untouched, however, it was gaunt, dirty and tear-streaked. Lifting up my tattered shirt I sighed, bruised shoeprints were covering most of my pale skin, small fresh cuts on my stomach bled slowly, drop by drop the deep crimson blood crept down onto my torn and filth covered shorts.
The reflection that glared back at me wasn't the Parvati Patil people loved or knew. That Parvati is gone, finished, dead.
"If the old me is dead, then I should change my name..." I murmured, walking around, trying to find what I was looking for.
Finally, I found it, my box. It wasn't like any ordinary wooden box, this box held all my secrets. The design was simple, made of a dark smooth wood, almost black with a pure silver lock, hinges and edges. Inside, it contained my precious wand, my diary containing pictures and memories from my past and finally my most prized possession, my paints and paintbrushes.
I stood before a clean wall and I began to paint.