Sorrow/Loneliness

Trista was beautiful but she didn't see it. Her skin was pale like moonlight and her ebony hair cascaded from her head in large curls. Her most defining feature was her eyes, they were an ocean of dark blue with a ring of ice around the pupil. Her sense of style consisted of black clothes and no makeup since she accepted nothing could improve her looks and make her even close to decent looking. She had no friends or family. She had been an orphan since birth and had been all alone since her best friend, Hope, had been beaten to death by her boyfriend. Even before Hope's death she kept to herself but now that Hope was gone that trait was even more prominent. Trista worked at a local library, arranging books and listening to music with her earbuds so no one would talk to her. The money she got from working she would spend on alcohol and the blades she used to decorate her arms. She was a silent crier, not that anyone would know. They didn't even find her body until the neighbors started to smell something. Poor Trista had been starved, drunk, dehydrated, and had been bleeding from her wrists when the landlord finally came to check on her. She had no funeral and was put in the ground almost immediately. No really noticed her abscence, not her neighbors, not the librarian, not even the guy at the gas sation from whom she bought all her things. Trista was just gone and she perfered it that way. From her perspective no one would have to put up with her anymore and she wouldn't inflict any of the same pain others did onto her.