Shattered Visage: A Short Story

A Shattered Visage
Once upon a time, a little girl got everything She wanted. She was the envy and desire of her friends. She flaunted what She had, and with any quick motion could strike jealousy into the most unresentful a woman. She would tear them down with a glance, Make concern where freedom used to be. She was good at it. Even great. She enjoyed, the way people would stare at her and how She would feel when he light was drawn out of someone’s face. When a girl’s face would turn pale, stricken with self-loathing. The girls weren’t jealous, they were concerned, even, angry with themselves for not having everything She did. Sucking the air out of a room, leaving anyone left to die of suffocation. She defined the “doggy dog world” everyone

spoke of, She was why everyone had it so rough. Her Innocence was worn as a persona, to never be taken off or cleaned.
But, She grew up, and her adversaries turned into fragile china dolls that had to polished before smashed on the ground. The only true victory was one lead by hope, dirty dolls do not just break. They were cleaned, polished, then broken. More devastating each time, but never expected. Their lives were a game to her, She even built a doll herself. She loved the doll, cared for the doll, polished the doll, repaired the doll when old age made the doll decrepit.

When She painted the doll, She was meticulous in her work and did it swiftly without a smudge. That was the only doll She took with her, She taught the doll to be like her. The doll would be her when ready. Then, She found another doll much prettier and kinder than the last. The new doll was a boy, who was tall and extremely new. The old doll was cast aside and remembered from time to time, but She was not cared for, or polished, or loved, or even repaired. The new doll was, though. The old doll got a chip, on her leg. That spread into a crack down her spine. Then transformed her into an old ugly hag of a doll. After years of mal maintenance, the old doll was so disfigured that it began to crumble. The doll that She cared for so much crumbed from the head toppled onto the ground and shattered. She ran over to see what happened, her old doll she remembered had crashed, just like the others. Oh, maybe she should have cared for the doll, repaired the doll, polished the doll or loved the doll. But she didn’t, She tossed it away like an old flame, a blast from the past that no one remembered but would relive in their mind, a fractured visage that everyone winced upon a look.

She didn’t even care enough to shed a tear on the dolls behalf, She was cold, heartless, her body held nothing but an ego and a passion for destruction. All girls wished her dead and She couldn’t even cry about it, how emotionless. But, now she would be the one to shatter, not any more girls should die because of her, She, would die a fiery death. A death only spurred by years of intentional pain inflicted on pure girls who did nothing but look her in the eye. The ones who dared to challenge her would not die this time, her prejudice will be ripped from her skin exposing what she had left, exposing her soft emotion. They would be the ones to build a china doll of her. Make her feel the loneliness of a life spent forgotten. She would be the one to gather dust, She would be the one to feel jealousy with a glance. Her face would be the one to turn pale with distaste. She would be detested, She would be shattered. A chip was created on her foot, turning into crack moving through her chest and turning her into a contorted mess of a girl. Until she tumbled, moved, shifted, fell, and shattered.
Once upon a time, there were girls who wanted revenge, and they got what they wanted. Revenge would be the one to cleanse their souls of evils past, but never again would She be with them.