Almost Dead

by Spellbell13x

If your reading this, I'm dead," He read the words and he felt dizzy.. how could the oman he loved, the woman he had been laughing with just the other day.... have done this? He read on "Don't read this if you still love me.. you won't" he read on. (First

The shadows of my reflection
A thousand nights the backround of my portrait
Shattered shards of ice
Represent what's left of my broken expectations

Can you see the frown hidden in her smile
The rattling sob in her gay laughter
A teardrop on the lips of those kissed with suck powerful grace
Enveloping darkness in the light of day

I slip into another disguise
Leaving you behind with the mirror I broke
To save myself from seeing ym twin image
Of false dreams

Turned to lost hope

She looked at what she had written in her letter and she saw a teardrop on the paper she had barely felt falling across her numb cheek. The words seemed to skake and she realized her hands were trembling violently, as if they were two leaves dangling precariously from a tree on a breezy autumn day .

She pondered upon her life for a long while, sitting there, a pale, tearstained angel with long blonde hair and big green eyes, about to throw her life away. Thinking on her life she didn't see why anyone wouldn'y be relieved she was finally relieved of her constant misery.

It would be quick. She wouldn't suffer in agony for too long, just long enough to feel new heights of wonderful and at the same time horrible spirtual awarenesss.... lying in her own blood. Her bloody tears. They'd probably look through her drawers and find her diary and then they'd understand... they'd have to.Who could live on in the constant lie that she was living in? This black inky hole of despair she clawed at each and every day of her miserable hellatious life.

"Cookie cutter!" She could see the accusations in the black pupils of their eyes, the bigger they were the bigger lies they had told. Hers were considerably big. Her thoughts weren't making sense any longer. There were few things that would make sense, or had made sense in a very short eternity called her lifetime.

A cool knife rested at her side, her very own security blanket. She had slept with it beneath her pillow and when the day had been too hard to bare and she had felt no more than a shadow on the wall, no feelings, love, emotions, she had called to the knife for comfort in the fact that she could feel. She had figured this out smiling, but had woken in the morning with tears soaking her pillow.

As she took the knife in her hand, it felt farmiliar, like holding the hand of an old friend. She thought of comforting thoughts as she drew the knife across the vein in her wrist. Sketchy's laughter ringing out into the messenger wind, Jack's loving eyes probing her body, Race's unfaltering confidence in all those losing horses he bet on, Spot's brotherly kisses on the top of her forheard when she had a burning fever, she thought of all of these.

She began to feel dizzy as she drew it further across.. slowly, to cause more torture for herself.

"Spell, I was just looking for you--- What the hell are you doing?!" he rushed over to her.... but it was too late.