Prologue

       The hands which held her diary trembled, and she averted her eyes from the page--it was as if the empty lines inscribed there might scald her. She took a deep breath and picked up her pencil. Seconds which formed minutes elapsed while it hovered over paper.

      What am I to write? She thought desperately. But, of course, she knew the answer. The real question was: How can I bring myself to write it? For this, she had no answers.

     Then there was another question which briefly flitted through her thoughts-- Why is this so hard for me?--but an inner voice answered it immediately.

     Because no one wants to read a story in which they detest the main character. Or write one, for that matter. It was a scornful voice, full of mocking enmity.

     This deeply rooted self hatred she had denied so long, but felt so overwhelmingly. Seven long scars across her wrists attested to the fact that she had not been able to deny it completely. They were almost artistic--each pearly white mark wove into another and formed an intricate pattern of swirls. But for her, the beauty was in the pain. The dark satisfaction of self-destruction.

      She hadn't written for over a year, though on many occasions such as this one, she had picked up the diary and flipped through it's pages. Those pages contained her beautiful past life, and, oh, to have to mar it with the stark present would be painful.

     Slowly, agonizingly, she scrawled two words on the heading: The Truth.

      Relief and terror mingled inside her, as she realized what she had done. In taking the first step, she had secured that she would not stop until her last. There was no turning back now--she couldn't hide from herself any longer.

     But to survive this, she realized she must couple the anguish of this pennance with another kind of agony. This second agony would be her salvation, her relief. She turned from the diary tentatively, almost afraid she might lose her nerve in doing so, and opened the dresser drawer. From this, she slide an object wrapped in silk and hidden beneath neatly stacked books and childhood treasures. Yes, this would be her salvation.

    She turned back to the page and wrote, under The Truth, in all capitals, CONFESSIONS. She wrote until the sun was far below the horizon, and continued as rose steadily up again.

    When she was finished, twenty-six pages of beautiful, tormented script fluttered around her, flecked with dots of red. Twenty-six pages of harrowing Truth. 

    She lay in the middle, blood still oozing from the slit in her throat. Her eyes, so tortured in life, looked serene in death. Her suffering was over.

Author's Note

Please give me some feedback...

Reviews

[chocolate_addict]

How interesting! Forgive me for using the word "interesting" but I lack a better word as I am pressed for time in writing this review.

I have a dark love for these kinds of short stories, and this one was fantastic. The flow of the narration with her thoughts and constant fear of putting her own self loathing to pen and paper.
"...The dark satisfaction of self-destruction..." Brilliant write!

I have no real criticism. Very well written. :D

[Rainbow Rider]

Hello, I guess you weren't kidding in your bio that you liked the darker side. Welcome to the darkness! {lol}
This is a hauntingly beautiful write. Very discriptive. The reader can actually see the girl sitting there, and I for one envisioned a sharp small dagger wrapped in the silk as I saw her hand reach for it. You have a way to grip the reader, expecially with the darker side, which I happen to love myself.

"Because no one wants to read a story in which they detest the main character. Or write one, for that matter" As for this line, I beg to differ, I write about detestable characters all the time, it is actually fun, but I think you know that yourself too.

Just one tiny error: "She wrote until the sun was far below the horizon, and continued as rose steadily up again" In this line you need to add the word 'it' between "as" and "rose"

I sort of agree with Storygirl's comment, except that I think this would make an excellent "Prologue" to a book about the main character.

Well I must now go read some more of your writtings. ,,,,Mhk Melvin

[Storygirl]

I read this yesterday and I am amazed. Strong symbolism. A very dark journey to a tragic end. A little frightening considering your age (don't take that as a negative). I ask, what was it she had done? Maybe a prequel is in order? I know that destroys the enigmatic tone, but it would be interesting to find out more. I am hooked. Moody, vivid, dark...very good work.