tracesofjade (tracesofjade) wrote in electrical_ink,

the girl with the broken smile

She sits alone in the darkness. Sleep has never before eluded her to this extent, never led her through such torturous mazes of self-doubt and despair without even the slightest glimmer of light to give hope that there could someday be a way out.

There are no tears because she has none left to give. The drops of salty water, full of every dream she once had but can no longer sustain, were flowing earlier like a baptismal font that washes away hope instead of sin. Her tear ducts have dried up now, just like the rest of her body that feels shriveled and dehydrated and almost nonexistent.

It doesn't matter.

Random thoughts pass through her dulled consciousness -- bad memories, painful memories, with a few good ones sprinkled here and there. In a sort of distant way, she recognizes the unfairness of it all, but she gave up on 'fair' long ago. Why was she chosen to be the disregarded one, the neglected one, the unimportant one? Was she born defective? She knows it's irrational yet suspects it to be true nonetheless. Why else would people have treated her that way?

But it doesn't matter.

She picks up the blade, a sense of inevitability washing over her. Somehow she always knew it would end this way. How foolish she had been to think that someone like her could attain happiness! A chant begins in her thoughts as she places blade to flesh: "not good enough.... not good enough.... never good enough.... never good.... never....."

Blood has replaced the flow of tears now. She closes her eyes and welcomes the feeling of oblivion creeping into her consciousness, until the scales tip and oblivion takes over.....

Time stops. But it doesn't matter.

Slowly she returns to life, wincing a bit with the realization of where she is. She doesn't want to open her eyes. Maybe it's just a dream, and if she keeps her eyes closed it will all go away. She doesn't want to be here.

But of course, she can't close her ears, and voices sink into her brain, voices that are familiar and yet not quite what she expected. She catches fragments of conversation, most of it spoken by medical personnel. Apparently she has been in a coma, and they don't know yet that she is awake.

a nurse's voice pierces through the rest of the sounds, and she clearly hears these words:

"... if only she had known just how much she was loved."

The words roll around inside her head for a long time. They are met with disbelief and a kind of fear. Could it be true? What if it is true? What would that mean? Would it change everything? Can she take the risk?

On a sudden impulse, she opens her eyes.

It does matter after all.

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