Note: This is based off my story Scarlett. You don’t need to read it to understand this one but it’s super special to me and I’d be so honoured if you did give it a read.
❀❀❀❀❀
Scarlett’s laugh is a songbird’s celebration, adored like an orchestra, to die for like a siren’s seduction.
Scarlett’s lips are a crescent moon, the edges perpetually turned upwards. Confidence curls in her dark hair, cascades over her shoulders, cleverly covering the place where others (like me) wear their bleeding hearts.
Scarlett’s uniform is perfectly pressed where mine has a map of creases in the fabric.
Where I claw at the ground, trying despairingly to cover my sadness, Scarlett places a reassuring hand on my arm, consoling me over something that must seem foreign to her. Where I know Depression intimately, she holds hands with happiness each day, twirling under the arm of joy and resting in the embrace of contentment.
I place my feet in the faint outlines of where she has stepped, hoping she will allow me to use her as a compass, hoping she will lead me to her merriment. She pulls me to her side, calling me a friend and letting me bask in her bliss, wishing it would rub off on me.
When I ask what her secret is, she feigns puzzlement, and I assume it is because her method is a closely guarded one. I resolve to watch her spread smiles and stay in awe of her.
One day, Scarlett is gone.
I am crying and through the tears, I make out confusion and horror and guilt and grief on every face I pass.
They tell me she chose a rooftop. They tell me she chose to fall into Death’s open arms.
And I realise, Scarlett hid a greater sadness than I had ever known, burying it deeper than I had ever dug. I realise Scarlett’s secret was not the method to her happiness, but rather, that she was utterly, heartbreakingly empty of the joy she pretended to have - of the joy she gave to others.
Scarlett laughed. And Scarlett smiled. And Scarlett killed herself. And none of us saw it coming.
❀❀❀❀❀
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (8)
A great addition to an already amazing short story. I could imagine this poem being written by the main character of the short story, as a way to honour Scarlett
Whoa. I may be biased in favor of the short story, but this one hits very hard too. I like the additional depth this one has, the slight shift of the lens to see the MC’s emotions more clearly and why she chose Scarlett as a model. Great poem, as ever, Poppy. And great idea to turn the story into a poem! ❤️
A powerful honest message so many of us wear a smile as a mask to cover the pain inside. Beautiful poignant tale Poppy
Mine definitely would be an unpopular opinion but I feel happy for Scarlet. She's finally free from everything that was causing her pain. And I admire her courage. Not everyone would be courageous enough to do what she did. I'm so sorry Poppy if what I'm saying is disturbing. If you want me to delete it, I would. Just let me know. As for your story, Scarlet, I've just opened it in a new tab. I don't know how I missed that story. It's a 25 minutes read so I'd have to come back to it later. I feel so strongly connected to Scarlet!
Brilliant piece and so tragic!
We who have lived with it seem to know how to live with it. Those who feel they're not allowed....
heartbreaking
And sadly, not the first time I've heard such a story, nor, I fear, the last.