Dark.

Bitter.

Lifeless.

Cold.

 

My body lays on the concrete,

Motionless,

Surrounded by witnesses. 

People who saw me fall,

Who didn't reach out to help. 

 

They weep and cry,

Muttering, "Why did this happen to her? She was such a lovely girl."

Yet they never once said anything while I was alive. 

The little whispers, the horrible things that were said to me, that was the reality of the people who hover over me. 

The ones who made fun of me, ridiculed me. 

The ones who hurt me.

 

The ground welcomes my spirit, with it's freezing fingers, wrapping around me, pulling me into the darkness. 

I am nothing but a spectator, watching as my body is lifted onto a gurney, and taken away. 

My, was I always that pale?

My mother sliently watches them take me away, mentally begging them not to go any further. 

Hoping and praying that this was all some horrible nightmare that she'll wake up from. 

It's hard for her to realize that I'm gone.

 

Ice surrounds me.

Numb is how I feel.

Utterly numb, with nothing to offer me warmth.

Where am I? 

Who am I?

How long have I been walking in this dark place?

I feel cold.

The road never seems to end. 

 

There is darkness in my life.

There is bitterness in my heart.

There is no life in my body.

There is nothing, but the cold.

 

What did you guys think about that? Let me know bellow.