To:  

A girl, in her 15 years of life never fails to astound me. She has small feet, so small that it’s as big as my palm,when she runs you will never hear a single sound. Small feet that’s neat and clean, guided me to the right trail. The same girl also has small hands, tiny clean hands who can’t grip a standard sword, same two tiny hands which touched my soul and cleanse it until pureness overwhelmed. I will never forget the feeling when you touch them and the way they intertwine with mine, perfect. She also has tiny pink lips, carved to perfection, the same lips that’s so soft to the touch and will always carry a smile, a beautiful smile that can’t be compared to anything, so genuine and pure, it reaches to her eyes until it crinkles and it shows her perfect pearly set, a smile that would enlighten me whenever darkness consumes me. The same lips are the source of her melodious voice, voice that’s so calm and light. The one i want to hear every single day and the same voice that i want to sing me to sleep. The same voice heaved me up when i fell into the abyss. I want everyone to know that this girl has Pale skin. Pale and unblemished. No wait, she has a scar on her knee, a reminder for her that animals aren’t all good. She’s pale, like snow and sometimes when the night turns colder; her skin turns into the colour of the ash, gray and glittering under the moon light, something I admire so much. To this girl who has rounded eyes. Her irises are extra ordinary, two times bigger than any normal. What will draw you in is its colour, crimson. Burning like the richest fire, the most beautiful rose and the thickest blood. How I love staring into them, drowning in them. The way it illuminates when she’s in pure bliss or the way it waters when pain or veracity hits. In either way, those eyes are perfect. Her eyes are highlighted the most since she has pale skin and small features and to add up to her striking beauty is her hair, Long, shinny and white. Yes white, her crown is white, it reaches below her knee. It’s beautiful like pure waterfalls, flowing freely. A person often ties it up to get it away but I’ve always appreciated how it frames her face and how it shows the world how small the said girl is. She’s small, innocent and pure but who would think that this girl is exceptional? She has escaped hundreds of demise with her two small feet and many have died in her two tiny hands, covering it with thick blood, pouring it with sin and darkness. Same set gave me a chance of living. Her lips once coughed blood, soiling her beautiful face. Those lips kissed me good bye. How her innocent smile turns into a devious smirk when everything is at her will, how it makes a fool out of everyone. Those smile that carved its own to my heart. Her voice will turn hard and it cracks yet it sounds like a diamond falling from the sky, how it breaks whenever pains overwhelm, whenever madness takes over, whenever she pleads or whenever she says her wicked good bye to her prey. It’s the same voice which leads me to insanity and obliteration. Her once beautiful pale skin turns into a work of art. Red cuts everywhere and blood smudged in every direction, like an abstract of a beautiful red sea. Her Eyes once so soft, now turns into the eyes of a predator. Nevertheless it still never fails to amaze me, how it hardens into a red ruby when she kills until it turns into a liquid fire when everything’s serene but at the same time it scares me whenever I stare into her empty eyes, how I missed those light cheerful eyes but beggars can’t complain, I’d rather keep on seeing her eyes open even if it’s bitter and dark than staring at it closed, forever shut to the world. How can be a perfect angel be a demon in disguise? In my eyes she has always been and will always be an angel. She is no demon; she did what she must in order to survive the games. She’s no cruel, the game is. Now I see her, across of me. Small feet burnt, Pair of hands covered in bruised and blood. How it trembles as she reach for my hands, with my own trembling hands I grabbed hers, silently reminding her I’m always by her side. I remember her voice cracking, whimpering into a small whisper “Thank You.” She said then a ghost of a smile lingered in her lips, blood pouring down to the left corner of her small lips, once pink now pale, scratched and bruised. Her pale and flawless skin is now paler than ever, no more trace of any colour. She used to have only one mark to remind the cruelty of the world, now almost all of her body is carved with the harsh reality. I held her hand as she lay on her white hair, sprawl in the ground, creating an misapprehension of light surrounding her. Like a halo. She looks like an angel. As she always have been. But her hair is soiled and ruined by the red covering it, by the red blood pooling around her. Her thick red blood covered her snow white hair, splashing it in every direction. It’s so unsightly to the eyes yet still so stunning and captivating.  Like a vicious artist played with her yet exquisiteness is there. She is like a painting of red and white, Snow White and Thick Blood.

To this girl whom died in the games, to this girl who only had the chance to live her life in 15 years. To this girl whom I shed my tears and poured my heart out. Thank You. Thank You Yui, for giving me a chance to live

X

Sehun