"You feel so much because you are so much," she whispered to herself, as a tear rolled
silently down her cheek.

She looked in the mirror, with eyes dark as sin and took a shaky breath. The clock to her left ticked past 3AM, but the girl did not seem to notice. It was as if time itself was against her.

She walked to the window, and looked to the world outside. Vibrant reds and whites still shone in the early morning. The girl winced. "Beauty is pain," she said.

A voice in the wind rustled golden leaves and spoke to her, "there is beauty in everything,
dear child." The girl cracked, understanding.

The voice murmured again, "life has killed me." A leaf flew delicately to the ground.

The girl opened the window, and leaned out. Something touched her back. She turned,
matted brunette locks whirring, and fell dizzily to her bedroom floor. But there was nobody there, and among the piles of forgotten poems she realised she had saved herself.