Love. Happiness. Family.
These were the words she whispered over and over
Words which were more than just words to her
Instead it was a desire
A yearning
A dream that will never be made reality
She stared into her faded blue eyes
And longed for the days they were ocean blue
She ran her hands through her fiery red hair
And along the surface of her naked, porcelain skin
Her body was simply an empty shell
The shell of someone she used to be
The shell of someone she wanted to be
A shell scarred and bruised by those she sold it to
This was a life she never asked for
A life she never foresaw
A life she regretted
Yet a life she delves deeper in at the awaking of each moon
As a night falls
A new customer awaits
And there in the dark she gives
Physically present
Mentally, emotionally, spiritually absent
The plight of this life she regrets
And between each ragged breath and immature stroke of her client
She contemplates whether death would be a kinder fate
Hours after her nightly encounter
She stares at her foreign reflection
Love. Happiness. Family.
She whispers to her pain stricken face.
Love.
She loads the gun.
Happiness.
She takes in a deep breath
Family.
She pulls the trigger.
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