she

The girl was made of glitter.

Mostly silver but when the light hit her just right she looked like every color God could think of. 

She wasn't as talented as the other kids and the boys didn't really know what to think of her. 

She was different. She left trails of glitter wherever she went. That wasn't always a good thing.

She liked heavy metal in the mornings and something acoustic in the afternoon. Her notebook had nothing but fantasies and a list of reasons she should keep on living. She would write in it at night and if she couldn't find a reason to live, the razor was waiting by the bathtub. Sometimes she wanted to do it just for the beauty of the blood in the water. Red clouds of desperation. Her glitter skin too precious for suicide.

She doesn't fear death, and therefore she fears nothing.