Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story are mine, save for "Girl" and "Boy." Delirium, Despair, and Death belong to Neil Gaiman. The quote from the song "32 Flavors" belongs to Ani DiFranco. Please don't sue?
Despair watched the girl staring into the mirror in her bathroom. The girl appeared tired and haggard, as if she bore the weight of the world in her hands. Deep, sunken, and dark eye sockets revealed the lack of sleep she experienced, despite the sedatives she'd been given. Her green eyes were dull and lifeless, yet somehow alive, as pain and passion burned behind them. Her eyeliner had streaked and left tunnels of tears on her face, and Despair noted that the girl had been in the bathroom for close to an hour, letting her emotions run like blood from a deep cut.
The girl looked hard at herself in the mirror. She scrutinized every detail while the tears ran anew. Too many red marks from old pimples. Too squishy a face. Dark circles under her eyes. Plain. Unattractive. The girl looked away.
Despair, ever patient, continued to watch over her. She had been waiting for one like this for such a long time. Given more time, she might progress to deeper levels of despair and become one for her sister, Delirium. Safe within her realm, Despair watched.
The girl was trembling now. Looking at her hands, her breasts, her stomach, her legs. She wanted to burn every part she hated. She wanted to let it all melt away, and, like the phoenix, rise from the ash, beautiful and new. She laughed harshly as a thought crossed her mind.
**God help you if you are a phoenix, and you dare to rise up from the ash. One thousand eyes will smoulder with jealousy while you are just flying past.**
Despair, ever patient, ever watchful, regarded the mirror.
The girl placed her hands on the sink to steady herself as sobs of terror mixed with anger and grief racked her body. Eyes suddenly aflame with anger, she looked up in the mirror.
Despair, ever patient, ever watchful, ever anxious, hooked her sigil into her arm.
The girl raised a trembling fist.
Despair sunk her sigil deep into her flesh. She stared at the mirror as blood oozed from where she pulled the sharp metal. She felt her muscle rip open and expunge blood like the girl's tears, free flowing and hot. Despair watched.
The fist raised higher, above her head now.
Despair would have held her breath, had she needed to breathe.
The girl began to growl; low, angry, needy. The growl then became a scream of utmost rage as the fist was thrown forward, smashing into the mirror with all the power of a cannonball.
Despair ripped the sigil from her arm as she watched glass fly to all the bathroom's corners.
The girl contemplated her fist, now red, bloody, and riddled with shards of glass. She laughed. And laughed. Laughed uncontrollably.
Despair stood in her realm, watching. She called her sisters, Delirium and Death, and they watched together.
The girl picked up a large, sharp shard of glass. She stared at it, mesmerized by the shiny reflective surface, cool in her warm, bloodstained hands.
The three sisters, ever patient, watched. Except Delirium, who was partially butterflies at the time.
The girl's head snapped up sharply as a boy entered the bathroom. She laughed maniacally and held the glass chunk in her hand. The boy tried to examine her injured hand, her tear streaked face, but to no avail. She lashed out with her shard. The boy stumbled back, shocked as he felt blood begin to drip down his stomach. He backed into the wall and watched, horrified, as she began to cut up her arms, starting at the bases of her wrists, and continuing up as far as she could stand.
The sisters, ever patient, watched. Death stood up.
The girl continued to laugh as her own blood spilled to the floor. The boy stood, ran into the bedroom and dialed 911. The girl passed out on the floor. The boy ran back and held her, screaming expletives and curses, and praying for her to hold on.
The girl opened her eyes to a white, clean room
Death stepped forward with a kind look on her face.
The girl blinked.
"It's time to go," Death said cheerfully.
The girl smiled.
The boy checked her pulse. The boy screamed for all the heavens to hear, and then hung his head as he heard the sound of sirens arriving outside.
Death wrapped the girl in her arms, and together, they walked off into the dark.
~Fin~
Mail the author, Yona, with comments!