Disclaimer: See chapter 1 .
A continuation to Black. It has a different flow to it although there are similarities. Please R & R. Thanks.
WARNING: contains self-harm.
Red
For now she saw a different colour. A colour related to courage and passion. Yes, passion. A passion to inflict was much pain as possible. Pain? She sees pain, she lives it. A different entity resides in her very soul. A flash of metal. A drop falls. A drop hits the ground. A soft sound is heard. Of blood. No, surely not blood? Yes. It colours the beige tiles. Colours her clothes. Colours her. It is there. A reminder of her existence.
She slips into a dream world. A sigh. Of contentment. Only here is she safe. Away from all the plagues her. She has no one. And finally there is acceptance. Acceptance? To what? To learn that a blade is her only friend. It provides a level of comfort that once she felt in reality. Black reclaims her slowly. Her once favourite colour. Consciousness slips from her grasp. She falls. Everything scatters.
A bright light stings her once lively eyes. She slowly, ever so gently, regains herself. Regains her colour. Red. She traces a mark down her arm. It is red. Everything is. Another flash. Another drop. Another soft sound. And finally a tone tear falls. A tear of passion. A tear of pain. A tear that is one colour. Red.