Disclaimer: While short, this story is sad and even morbid. If stories can trigger emotions easily in you, you should most likely not continue reading. If you do read this story, please leave some feedback.

The Girl

By: Melissa Laybhen

Once upon a time there was a girl whom nobody loved. And the girl knew that nobody loved her. And yes it did upset her, but it was alright, because as she realized , how many people are truly loved? None she realized. Except perhaps by themselves. And that was not true love.

But the girl did want people to at least care about her. But the townspeople did not. Actually they hated the girl. They didn't care whether she lived or died. For she was beautiful. And to the townspeople, she represented all that which they could not have.

The girl represented the beauty, the riches and the wisdom of the world. None of these things could be reached by the townspeople. They didn't know the ways of the world. And they believed that the girl did know the ways of the world. And that was the main reason they hated her.

They knew that she was not one of them. They knew that she would eventually get out of the hell that they all lived in. And they hated her for the freedom that she would eventually have.

And so the townspeople decided that if they couldn't be free, then neither could she.

So one night while the girl slept, they barged into her house and went up the stairs to the girl's bedroom, and threw off her covers. They took the braided ropes from the wall hangings, and tied one around her wrists, and the other around her ankles.

Then they gathered her beautiful long hair in their hands and cut off clumps of it, until the girls shining locks lay around the floor, and the girl, was practically bald.

The townspeople took handfuls of her curly hair and held them up high. A cry went up and all the townspeople left the house and left the girl bound, bald, and crying all alone.

When all was silent, the girl began to work her bindings off. And when she got her arms free, she untied her legs, which were bleeding from the tight constraints.

The girl got up end looked at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't stop crying, and it had nothing to do with her appearance. It had to do with the actions of the townspeople.

She realized how truly awful everyone was, and realized that she wanted nothing more of the world. She broke the mirror, and the shards fell like glitter to the floor.

The girl picked up the shards and quickly slashed at her wrists. The cuts were awkward, jagged, and mean. And oozed blood immediately. For you see, the girl knew, as she fell to her knees, and succumbed to the inevitable death, that love was just an illusion. That it never existed, and that all believers of love were merely fools.