The carpet was worn all the way through. Footsteps followed the tattered path up to her deprived body, lying limp in the wooden, lace-stricken casket. She was so beautiful. They all walked past her and attempted to hold in their distressed cries and disheartening moans. Pure silence hung over them like a heavy rainstorm. It was pouring sorrow and grief as they stood there, dead, with no umbrellas to shelter them.

Ugly. She was utter beauty, but that truth evaded the world. They only saw her difference from the mind swept minions of society. Good for nothing. Her story was a bestseller, one that would touch the hearts of many, if only they listened. She was held together by weary tape and dissipating glue. She had fallen from great heights, only to be pushed off again and again. She lost hope, she lost faith. Fat. She was bruised and scarred by spoken daggers and fists. The beast within her grew stronger with every grimace of pain with no intentions of stopping its tirade until her touch was as cold as her shriveled soul.

She was truly beautiful, but it was hidden by disapproval. She longed to feel the slender touch of bones against her skin. The beast, obsessed with image, drove her to become that lifeless figure she’d dreamt of. Her heart fluttered with the synonymous quavering of a butterflies deathly wings. But, still the dissatisfaction on their faces was too much to carry on with her. She couldn’t kill the demon inside her without killing herself.

The only thing left to eat was happiness, so inevitably she starved. Finally, she slid her delicate hand down her torso. The bones?she could feel their presence up against her perfectly smooth skin. She smiled, as she lay in the cold, porcelain bath. A slow, struggling inhale and then the evenly chiseled knife slithered into the spaces between her grooved ribs. She managed to destroy the beauty on the outside trying to kill the beast on the inside. But she was finally free, and she never worried again.