*rises from her coffin*
Arr, I'll have to rewrite all of this (except the beggining). Not anywhere near sad or dark enough...


~*~


Indeed the choice would be a double-edged sword. Should she be heartless, she would lose the flame of life in her soul, and who would know how long she’d go before killing herself or going insane. But when she kept her hope and faith, she knew pain. Pain that she could never forget. Pain that would etch away at her bit by bit until she lost her sanity
She cast her eyes upward and coughed to get rid of the burn in her throat that always accompanied tears. She looked at the sky, now grayed by muted clouds, embracing the cool stillness.
Immediately she turned back. She was in no mood to see people, and defiantly not ready to see people when she was crying. But she didn't want to go home.
Letting her arms hang limply at her sides, she looked at the world with once again her lifeless look of angst. That feeling of uttermost dread, of what she knew not.

She bolted as fast as she could away from the place she had been standing at. She wanted to leave it all behind her and go on to be someone different. She wished she had been born with more endurance, more patience, more faith.
Her breaths came in large, painful gasps, rasping on her throat. Her eyes grew red and her limbs shaky before she stopped and collapsed. She had forgotten; lungs made for a desert planet never lasted long in night air.
She curled up on the ground as her shoulders began to shake with sobs.
Was it the rejection that killed her or the loneliness? Was it angst that she felt, or apathy? If she died that night, would she care?
Would anyone else care?
She rested her aching head on her knees. A tear ran out of her eye and traveled down her face and onto her pants, leaving a black trail. A waterfall followed.
The night was so dark, and she was so alone. Alone, as the night retook its own.
~*~

*sobs and returns to her coffin*