Yearbook
-v-
At age 10, she felt recluded; bound by invisible shackles. She was friendless; cast aside. She tried her hardest, but it wasn't good enough. So she was left alone.
At age 14, her heart bleed for the first time. At first she didn't understood what it meant. She was shy; her girlfriend-to-be didn't notice her. She forgot how to smile; how to cry, as well. Her new name was born: "Ice Queen".
At age 17, books and words were not enough. The thrive to live, to feel, flared. She didn't know what it meant either. She felt only pain. Then, she knew true loneliness. She fell in love again; not with another soul, but with an idea. Of herself. She could not see beyond that.
At age 20, the wounds that never closed bleed again. Her heart of stone hurt, once more; ruthlessly, she attempted to drown it. She failed.
At age 24, she raged. She cried, and screamed. She blamed herself. She raged. Raged against the injustice of it all: of her life, of death. She understood: she was not only alone. She was empty.
At age 26, and 27, and 28, she still woke up alone. She felt tired. Overwhelmed. The days, the weeks, the months, had been pulverized by time itself. The miracle – for she saw it like that – of truly living, of loving, hadn't happened. Despair sunk in. She named her pain melancholy: 'the pain of losing something you could never have in the first place' she wrote, after midnight.
-ooo-
At age 15, she looked outside the bus' window. She felt envy, of the things she could not possess. Her eyes were still soft.
At age 22, she looked outside the bus' window. Her shining hair had grown long, untamed. Anger boiled, just beneath her skin. Her eyes were hardened, steeled by the flames the pain of hope caused, deep inside.
At age 25, she learned to cry again. She learned to embrace the void in her chest. She clutched the blankets at night, praying for the miracle.
At age 29, at the dawn of a meaningless day, she opened the bottles, grasping the pills tight on her hand. But she couldn't do it. Neither the pills, nor the razor felt right. She could not pull the trigger, yet.
-ooo-
At age 30, the miracle happened. She met the fiery redhead. Her name was Anna.
-v-
AN: might do a companion piece if someone wants to see a continuation. Cheers!