She was blind to the world, she had no strength in her to carry around these burdens weighing on her shoulders. She was just a living Dead Girl… She was trapped in a shell where she constantly abuses. Those scars on her arms, across her neck, on her ankles, are failed attempts to escape this hell called earth. Her heart sunk everyday in the inky blackness of her mind, being slashed and beaten, poisoned and punctured. How long until she has enough? She. Has. No. One. They all left her to collect the broken pieces once known as her heart; her beating heart. She steps in the bath tub, and let the steamy water over lap her naked, crumpled body. She held the weapon in her hand. And with a straight, suppressed face, she cut deep into her limb, the limb that belonged to a tree, known as her body. Once the limb began sprouting blood, she knew she’d hit it. All she had to do was wait. There was a knock on the door, ” Annabel, hurry, I must say, your cake looks very tasty! The whole family is waiting for the birthday girl! You don’t want to miss your birthday!” Little Sara, her baby sister spoke. She heard the tiny footsteps run away. She sunk deeper in the water.. She forgot her birthday. Flashbacks of earlier conversations.
“Hun, what flavor do you like ?” Her mother asked. She didn’t answer. “Sara! Go run and collect 18 candles!” “Okay mommy!”
“Guess whose coming home next week?” My mom asked with a smile. I ignored her. “Daddy is daddy is!!” Sara cheered.
“The whole family is coming in from out of town… That’s like 3 hours of driving, aren’t you special, Ann?” “Annabelle, we love you!!” Mom and Sara sung this morning.
I just rolled over and fell back asleep.
I JUST ROLLED OVER!!!!!
I gasped. The blood… It’s… There’s no more in me… Im… I really am a dead girl…