She sat there almost completely motionless, white and still like a chilly winter evening frozen in a beautiful photograph for eternity. The only sign of life from her were the constant noisy splashes her feet made as she dipped and pulled out her toes from the pond she sat on the edge of.  Her hands grabbed onto more grass as she leaned back on her arms, letting the setting sun’s rays bathe her face in a beautiful golden-red glow. I looked at her in awe and admiration, taking in every single heart-warming detail of who she was now.

“Just sit already, Yixing. I hate to see you stand like that.” She opened her now-warm brown orbs to me, her smooth lips barely containing her mocking smile.

When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

Well there's so much they hold

Her eyes were more serene and still than the gorgeous sunset we admired together . . .

“What is wrong with you?!” I tried screaming at her, but one look at her scared, trembling eyes, and I swallowed all my necessary ire.
Her body remained still—only swaying back and forth every now and then—except for her trembling fingers and wild eyes, avoiding my gaze. Her chest heaved and dropped rapidly as she tried to control her sobs.

“What is wrong with you?” I repeated in a whisper this time, gently holding her shoulders to keep her from falling over.

She simply shook her head and said nothing, pressing her lips together in a thin line to stifle another sobbing fit.

But I clearly saw as her fingers squeezed themselves shut around the pills she held . . .

Her still fingers wrapped gently around my wrist and pulled me down, silently asking me to sit next to her. With a soft smile, I rolled my pants up to my knees and sat next to her, dipping my feet into the cool water of the pond as well.

She smiled at me again before pulling her legs out of the water. Without meaning to, my eyes travelled towards the scar that she’d marked herself with on the side of her leg. Her hand unconsciously travelled to her leg to trace the pink mark, as her eyes took in the bright green of the grass, the sparkling blue of the pond, and the brilliant golden-red glow of the sky.

God knows I’m tough enough

“Go away, Yixing,” she stumbled on her words as her fragile, shaking hands wiped her never-ending tears.

The blood-covered long glass shard now lay next to the broken perfume bottle in a small mess. She didn’t need it anymore; the damage was done, wasn’t it? She’d given herself another painful physical evidence of this torturous phase.

Or maybe I was wrong, because in the blink of an eye, she reached over for that sharp shard again, ready to give herself yet another reason to cry through the nights.

“No,