"You were never meant to be a designer."
The words echoed off the walls of a torn conscious, riddle with several confused emotions under the reign of countless golden Noise symbols. The dark haired female's body trembled with each putrid thought the disgusting source radiated, rotting away her innards further and further into oblivion. Her heart dripped heavily with black, dripping hatred and despair, hitting the ground beneath her in quiet splashes of tears. Glasses were long past discarded, lenses smudged and scratched from a flurry of painted nails and sweaty fingers, set less than neatly across the nightstand sat next to the young teen's bed.
Shiki's acts of sadness grew increasingly violent, ranging from simple scratching of skin to howls of anguish, ripping through newly created threads by none other than the incarnate of hatred herself. By now there were many scraps of torn cloth littered around the ground and furniture on top, seams dangling helplessly at the mercy of a blind Stellar Fury attack. None of these mattered — nobody cared anyway. None of the poor colorlicious clothing were created at her mind's will, but rather her hand. She had become a slave to her friend's creations, making them into beautiful realities. It didn't matter - she didn't make them. She may as well have never picked up a sewing needle.
The girl soon found herself curled in a corner of the room, her short hair lay greasy and unkempt upon the head that leaned into the safety of the pale wall she sat next to. A hiccup struck her diaphragm, jerking the teen gently, bringing a new set of salty tears raining down her cheeks, running over the pale and trembling lips that mouthed apology upon apology, an endless stream of helpless attempts at convincing the not-present friend to take back what she said. But she meant it — she wouldn't have said it otherwise — so it was no use.
Shiki finally swallowed, pushing down all the buildup at the back of her mouth into her stomach, and uncurled her limbs from one another. Her fragile mind settled upon a single idea that had long since latched itself into her subconscious, only just now bubbling up to the surface and presenting itself. It was certainly an unfortunate thought, yes, but Shiki found herself almost lusting for it. All sense of reason tossed haphazardly out the window, the young teen shoved herself off the floor, stumbled across the pigsty for a bedroom, and fell into a mad dash across the apartment.
Bursting through the door, the high school student ran in a blind fit, tripping over uneven steps of cement and running into unsuspecting objects such as trash bins and poles. She had to find the right place soon enough, it was only a matter of time. It never mattered what time it was, there had to be something running... An image appeared within her mind at that instant, coloring a blotchy and blurred picture of the underpass, and her idea all began to unfurl and fall into place. Soon, she wouldn't have to hurt anymore.
Her feet lead her to the familiar underground station, where she slowed her pace to a shuffle. There were no people around, being so late at night, and there were no trains present. Perfect. Shiki leaned against a wall, slipping down to her knees, another wave of sobs seizing her frail body.
Several minutes passed, which felt like an eternity and a half for the grieving teen, before her ears finally caught onto a distant rumbling. Dragging herself back onto unstable feet, she shifted locations closer to the tracks. Yes, soon this would all be over. Soon, she'll be at peace. Soon...
A pale hand was brought up to puffy cheeks, running across them in a half-assed attempt to wipe away the wetness that stained the skin, her tongue vainly coming forward to dampen her chapped lips, though the entirety of her liquid supply seems to have flown out through her eyes over the past hour or two. Whatever.
Dark brown eyes narrowed in the dim lighting, gazing out at the tracks as the sound drew closer. Soon, Shiki, soon. Don't jump into it too quick, you have to make this perfect. Don't jump too slow, this will be your only chance. Don't think, don't look, just listen and wait. The sound came closer, closer, until it was clear that the train would be passing within moments. Shiki drew in a shallow breath, held it, and began to count.
Three.
Her mind wandered to all the beautiful clothing she'd sewn together, all at the request of her best friend, Eri.
Two.
Eri... Such a wonderful person. A cute girl, and intelligent, who knew how to crank out designs on a whim.
One.
And how she told Shiki with bitter disdain that she was never meant to be a designer. She took away all her self-worth in a single sentence. She took away her meaning of life.
Then, Shiki jumped forward onto the tracks.