TW drug abuse, mentions of death, bullying

Laughter, pointing, all alone,

A girl walks home with her head hung low,

Wine, laughter, her parents are celebrating,

The girl goes to her room.

She looks to her bed in solemn silence,

She does not smile, she does not laugh,

Her face, soon pressed in the coarse cover of her pillow,

Relaxes as she falls asleep.

Even in her dream, she sits and cries,

Darkness swirls around her, and with no clue of what’s within,

The hazy shadow parts to reveal a hand outstretched,

Wrapped in dark cloth sleeves.

It belongs to a boy, handsome and kind,

Who smiles at her from where he stands,

With tenuous wonder she takes the offered hand,

Her tears are gone in an instant.

With the blossom of pure white petals and a comforting wink,

What seemed a fearful void is now a grand hall of glass and obsidian,

It’s floor is piled with glowing flowers, all of varying kinds,

The boy looks at her with patient kindness.

The girl gazes back in innocent wonder,

Her cheeks glow red with excitement,

It’s then that takes her hand and begins to run,

Guiding her through the dazzling scene.

They stop at the bottom of an unusually large door,

It’s color is one only seen of the darkest nights,

And yet, for such a grand structure it doesn’t appear to lead anywhere,

He looks uncomfortable.

The girl, concerned for the sweet boy, tries to turn around,

But he shakes his head, and steps back to gesture her through it,

She hesitantly does so, worried he might get more upset if she doesn’t do as he asks,

Her eyes open on a familiar scene.

The cracked, grey ceiling of her room is so drastically different from the enchanting hall’s obsidian,

She doesn’t for a second believe that her meeting last night was a dream,

Lost in thought all the way through school,

She doesn’t even notice the teasing.

When she returns home she looks to her bed, a gentle peace fills her chest with warmth,

Imagining the possibility that she might meet the boy,

For tonight at least, as she drifts off into uncharacteristically serene rest,

There aren’t any tears on her pillow.

She’s shocked to see him again, waiting for her in the flowers,

He shows her another room, where sparkling black and white fish swim in the air,

Occasionally getting caught in ink-colored seaweed before quickly freeing themselves,

Her heart beats faster.

He puts a flower in her hair, blushing and bowing his head in embarrassment,

She laughs and smiles and brushes his snowy locks from where they fall over his darkened eyes,

They gaze at each other for a moment, before he looks at the door, still visible through a window,

He winces, and gives her an apologetic look.

With the feeling of a glowing flower still in her hair,

She awakens with a girlish squeal of excitement, 

Kicking her feet and wiggling her toes,

The girl has fallen in love with him.

School doesn’t seem so difficult to endure when she feels like this,

Nobody can reach past the besotted hearts in her eyes,

She runs home with a cheerful grin pulling at her cheeks,

Falling into bed immediately.

He takes her to eat ice cream, to dance on the surface of an ethereal lake,

Spotted with floating lilies that glow, as all flowers seem to do in his world,

He hugs her and cares for her, treats her in a manner far exceeding that of anyone she’s ever known,

It’s because of him that she begins to see the world as beautiful.

But her past tormentors despise that change,

They glare and gossip, 

Until one day after school they decide to confront her,

She doesn’t see it coming.

In mere seconds she’s shoved to the ground,

Her socks are ripped and she’s covered in bruises,

By the time they’re bored of her she can barely think,

Laughter erupts from them as she stumbles blindly home.

She trips on her way up the stairs, knocking some of the dirt and blood out of her eyes,

Tears of pain are replaced with those of relief once she can see the faint outline of her bed,

The doorway to a world where she can see him,

Where she can be free.

But the pain of her beating won’t allow her to sleep,

The slightest movement wakes her,

Desperation takes hold of her heart,

She needs to see him.

Slowly, quietly, she creeps back downstairs,

Her parents are passed out, drunk, on the couch,

In the bathroom cupboard, a bottle of pills with a blood red top,

She swallows one with a grateful smile.

The boy takes her to ride a magnificent, bird-like creature,

She forgets all about her pain,

But the harassment doesn’t stop,

So each night she takes a pill.

The girl’s parents argue in the morning, 

But she takes a pill, and spends her time weaving the boy a flower crown,

When she falls asleep in class, he shows her an art gallery, but her unconscious body knocks over her bag,

The bottle falls out.

Her teacher escorts her home that afternoon, 

The teacher doesn’t listen to her, neither do her parents,

She looks to her mother, and then her vision goes dark with a crunch,

It always hurts more when her parents hit her.

When she comes to, her father takes the pills away, yells at her,

Her mother screams and scratches, 

She runs to her room with tears streaming down her face,

Pain and fear cloud her vision along with the tears.

She grabs the hidden bottle from under her pillow, 

Where she’s been keeping it in case she runs out,

And pours them all in her mouth,

Chewing and swallowing desperately.

The obsidian and glass of the hall feels like home,

She turns to the boy with the purest joy,

But he isn’t smiling, he looks scared,

The girl pauses.

Remorse and grief plague the boy’s expression as he shows her the lock on the grandiose door, 

Upon looking at it, the door shatters, as if made of glass,

An expression of sheer terror settles on his features,

He grabs her hands frantically.

The girl smiles at him excitedly, expressing happiness that she’d never have to return to the other world,

Sad fondness overtakes the boy’s fear, and he cups the side of her face with his hand,

He’s crying, she realizes, worry rising in her chest until he moves closer,

It’s with tears in his eyes that he kisses her for the first time.

The pain and fear come back to him now, though slightly softened by the fondness there,

He steps away from her, lets go of her face and her hands,

Shadows, the ones she remembers from that first night, begin to swirl around him,

His dark eyes glow a fierce red.

His slim, handsome form morphs, his face and self disappearing,

In their place is a skeletal apparition, cloaked, with a scythe in his bony claws,

The girl isn’t scared, but tears fill her eyes at the sadness in his,

He picks up a flower.

Gently, between two large and sharp claws, he holds the flower,

He places it in her hair, the same place he’d put it so many nights ago,

And the glowing red lights in his skull waver,

He cries still, even like this.

The girl reaches out to him, softly wiping the wetness from his eyes,

He shivers under the weight of her heart,

He knows that on the other side of that locked door, humans much more demonic than he,

Have just found their daughter’s lifeless body.