“In a place where a no is a yes & a yes is a no, beheaded by your own thoughts, trying to bury yourself in a grave dug by someone who defines your worth. ‘Kill me once…’ she said ‘…and forget about me’. Freshen yourself by the pieces of flowers thrown without compassion, full of accusations & phrases that peels you off. Fall asleep as they sang the song you used to sing whenever you watch the drizzle pouring from the thing that once seemed beautiful. ‘Kill me once…’ she said ‘…and forget about me’. Close your eyes as it gets darker; not darker than what is inside you. ‘For some people I am alive but I know I’m not.’ she added.”
She stared in front of her computer screen for some quite time while mindlessly tapping her index finger on her computer desk; wearing an extra large tee & denim shorts with a literally messy bun hair-do. Her room is filled with books and papers that people around her can’t relate to. Her bed a mess, walls are empty, worn clothes resting in a chair near her window, and an old vintage typewriter freely lying on the floor.
She then stood up and left her computer desk without shutting it down. “Sh*t!” she cursed as she accidentally bumped her toe on the typewriter. She put aside the clothes resting on her chair and carried it. She wedged the chair to the door knob, closed the curtain to her window, and stared blankly at herself through the full-length mirror beside her dresser. Not long after, she opened the top cabinet of her bedside table and pulled out a thing—caressing the rough and long surface of it urge her to smile, neither happy nor sad. She was perfectly knotting it when she then heard a knock on her door and a guy said “Are you, there? It’s me.”