ROSE WATCHED ON as her peers ( a word that she could only use loosely ) began piling on top of each other ; sardines in a tin can. she is suddenly compelled to sneak whatever alcoholic drink was near her. she was too young to be drinking, but death comes soon for youth in this world. why shouldn’t she be one of the many who die ? as she heard the crowd get louder, she knew with familiarity that he was here. the one who managed to survive. survival, what a funny way to describe dying at a slower pace. those wounds didn’t seem to heal, bleeding out slowly. so very slowly. she decided to go and meet him. might as well partake in the festivities. as she pushed through the crowd, her heart raced. what was this feeling ? unsure, she stuck her hand out as an act of kindness ( laced with pity & guilt ) ❛ hi. i’m rose red. ❜
she didn’t want this. she wanted death. it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t… fair. a permanent glaze was found over her eyes. a nod. a shake of the head. her arms grew lifeless as she let them dress her, handle her. this was far more painful than death. her kind deserved it. to feel the disdain, the guilt. but haven’t they always been the cause of bloodshed ? are they incapable of shame ? it has been 8 times standing up, smiling in the face of tears. mothers, fathers, friends. as these thoughts streamed through her mind, she took the only course of action she knew. she ran. they didn’t notice as she snuck out, habitually. she was never courageous enough to stay. however, unlike the other times, she didn’t reach a new destination. no new sanctuary. instead, she is barricaded by one of them. she could have killed someone he knew.
❛ i’m so sorry. shit. sorry. ❜