Original: Mourning: PG
Title: Mourning
Author: Me
Rating: PG
Warning: Language, references to cutting and death
Word count: 182
Disclaimer: Mine. Not Yours. Mine
Summary:
Dedication: To Sean. For making me feel like shit and possessing me to write this story
Jade walked into class and sat down.
“What’s with the ribbon?” Some random guy asked, referring to the black ribbon she had tied around her forearm to hide the cuts she’d made last night.
“I’m mourning.” Jade stated simply in reply, her expression blank as she looked at the questioner.
“Mourning?” They replied, confused.
Jade rolled her eyes, “It’s when you grieve over losing someone.”
“Who you mourning for then?”
“Myself,” replied Jade, “I lost my identity,” she shrugged at their still-confused face, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Jade did, in fact, know who she was. She was that emo fuck that sits in the back and carves depressing depictations of death onto the desk and her books.
“Oh.” They turned to laugh at Jade with their friends.
How did I end up like this? Jade questioned herself, Maybe I’ve always been like this but ’m only finding out who I am now. Maybe I’m not mourning my identity loss, but rather the loss of my identity loss because I’ve found out who I am and I don’t like it.
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Author: Me
Rating: PG
Warning: Language, references to cutting and death
Word count: 182
Disclaimer: Mine. Not Yours. Mine
Summary:
Dedication: To Sean. For making me feel like shit and possessing me to write this story
Jade walked into class and sat down.
“What’s with the ribbon?” Some random guy asked, referring to the black ribbon she had tied around her forearm to hide the cuts she’d made last night.
“I’m mourning.” Jade stated simply in reply, her expression blank as she looked at the questioner.
“Mourning?” They replied, confused.
Jade rolled her eyes, “It’s when you grieve over losing someone.”
“Who you mourning for then?”
“Myself,” replied Jade, “I lost my identity,” she shrugged at their still-confused face, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Jade did, in fact, know who she was. She was that emo fuck that sits in the back and carves depressing depictations of death onto the desk and her books.
“Oh.” They turned to laugh at Jade with their friends.
How did I end up like this? Jade questioned herself, Maybe I’ve always been like this but ’m only finding out who I am now. Maybe I’m not mourning my identity loss, but rather the loss of my identity loss because I’ve found out who I am and I don’t like it.
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