They found her body lying on the floor in a pool of blood. It was half burnt. Apparently she had tried to burn herself first, but found it too slow. [So, she had started slashing her body with a huge butcher knife, found lying next to her.] It looked like she had gone mad. She had deep cuts on her whole body. A butcher knife lay beside her. No one knew why. Her friends had seen her laughing just the day before. She had been the most cheerful of them all, laughing the loudest, dancing the wildest. This just made no sense. But, then one friend remembered that she had had a hollow look in her eyes just for one second. A second when she thought no one was looking. She looked like that sometimes. Nobody had ever understood the reason. Or maybe just one person had, but he didn’t care.
In her possessions they found a letter. It was smudged in places, as if whoever wrote it had been crying. It also had bloodstains on it, as if the author punished herself for writing something so useless. Something which would never be read.
It read:
“You tell me to go away from your life. Why don’t you understand that I have no life without you? Yes, I have lost my mind. I lost it the day I met you. I lost it the day I looked into your eyes. You tell me what has happened has happened. That I should move on. What do I move on to?? You were everything I ever had. You were the only thing I ever wanted. Needed.
You know what the biggest irony is. Even as you shattered my world, every dream i ever had, every hope. Just as i knew that there was nothing left. The only person i could think of to make it okay was you.
I know you don’t care. Forget love, you probably don’t even like me enough to come to my funeral. But you know something, i still love you.... “
The letter ended there.
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