Inside the small ‘apartment’ that she had made her home, she stared at the cold reflection in a cracked and grimy mirror. Bringing up the small brush, she proceeded to make a black line along her lower eyelid. Removing the applicator from her skin, she paused and just stared.

Cold eyes. The face that she had once prided in its ability to show emotion, now heartless. Eyeliner that made her look dead. Hair that was unnaturally streaked with black and dark blue. Bloodless lips hidden beneath black lipstick.

What was it that she had become?

Had she met a younger version of herself, she would have called her a freak. The youth of the past with the childlike faith and purity would have recoiled at the sight of this lifeless pathetic excuse for a life.

She wanted tears to come, but nothing came. Her lifeless eyes didn’t even flicker with the color that it had pulsed with in the past.

She returned the brush to the small pot of liquid eyeliner. Something told her to throw the cursed stuff to the floor in a rage, but she once again made a lightless line around her eyes.

Grimacing at her own weakness, she extended the streak to a full two inches past her eye. She had wanted to be a freak once. What now compelled her to stop now? She made another Egyptian-esq line on her other eye.

Smoothing a bit of shiny midnight blue eyeshadow over her eyelids then dusting off the powder that had collected under her eyes she got up and put on the black shirt she had set aside for tonight.

Had she looked in the mirror two years ago – even one, she would have approved of the rabbit who had defied fasion. But all that she saw in the deep reflection was herself: the hollow life she had become.



Indeed, helping Yehella and the other rabbits on the frozen planet that they lived on had given her hope and life for a while. But soon, that became yet another jaded memory to be forgotten, or worse, scorned. How often was it that she was reminded of her careless childhood, then denied what she knew would save her? Was it suicide that she was forcing upon her soul?

She turned her head to the side. She was disgusted by her reflection.

Pulling on her platform boots, she straightened the cuffs of her flairs over the shoes then grabbed her earrings to put on as she walked.

~*~

There were a few creatures straggled around the street, but none of them even acknowledged her existence. She didn’t care; she dressed like this for herself, not for their pleasure.



Her doubts ate at her. If she did this to please herself, why wasn’t she pleased?

Slamming her back against a brick wall she held up her black nails that she had spend weeks growing and filing. Casting a look over her right shoulder, she waited.



She knew that it was transgression that she was wallowing in, but she didn’t feel like getting out of her worthless mindset. After all, wasn’t she a hopeless creature? If she wasn’t going to be perfect, why bother trying to be good at all? It’d all end up the same. She’d still be in the dark. At least now, she wouldn’t be faking it and lying to everyone.

All the times that she had painted a smile on her face came to mind. The times in which she had done good, just for the recognition. The times that she had been a faithless wretch.

Her eyes started stinging at the sudden surge of emotion. She had seen others been so pure, but why was she so blackened? Why was it that she could so easily forget the faith of her youth?

Her eyes shifted colors, and tears welled up. She opened her eyes as wide as possible, in hopes of drying up the tears, while she looked down as to not attract attention to her alien eyes.

Pressing the heel of her palm into her forehead, she closed her eyes and slid her hand up. Why was she so weak? Why couldn’t she choose which side of the fence to be over, rather than just wish and stare at both?

She knew that in her lack of choice that she had chosen the dismal side, but something inside her protested and said that she was safe where she was. But that something wasn’t working for her own good, she knew.

Would she choose? Or would she by not choosing?

Maybe she’d have some wonderful experience that would wake her up.

She cursed inwardly. She’d had several experiences, and she’s just forgotten. None of them had impacted her.



Standing upright, she started walking towards her destination as the darkness welcomed her and swallowed the troubled girl. She raised her head slightly and closed her black eyelids in the coolness of the night.

Breathing in deeply, she fought back tears as she remembered her shame of the past, of all the times she had screwed up and others had had to pay. Regaining her composition she started walking with long strides.

She could forget the light eventually. She could be heartless and not let this ever bother her, and not ever cry.

But would she?

~*~

*Returns to her coffin now that she's posted*