She wanted to be beautiful. Not in the way that you’d have expected from a frail girl like her. She wanted to be beautiful the way silence can be after a hurricane. She sought for tragedies to happen to her. They say that it is the ones who have suffered, who know defeat like an old friend, and have found their way out of the realms of all struggle, that are the most beautiful. So she damaged herself, her life.. But this desperate longing overcame her, consumed her every being in such a way that she composed a monster out of herself instead of beauty. And when something ugly such as that emerges out of the depths of your soul, it spreads inside your veins, like heavy ink on water, and cloaks your organs a nasty black that would make even the darkest night tremble in fear.
Perhaps she knew this. But she continued to destroy herself. For beauty is harsh, and so in harshness, she persisted to seek.