Chelsea Smile

Subject: Chelsea Smile Fri Dec 11, 2009 11:08 am

Warning: This is not a roleplay, but a story. Feel free to read it. Any 'reply's' will be deleted.

In her same spot, sat Blair, the window seat with the big red cushion padding that covered the whole of the bench to perch on. Her hand curled through her chocolate waves, tugging against the roots gently, a frown upon plush, glossed lips. Black lines of running mascara and eyeliner slid down her cheeks, mingled with salty tears. Deep, trusting brown eyes, no longer full of the life they once held, but now cold and empty, already dead.
Her attire had been precisely chosen for this very hour. Her finest dress, gold, and made up of many different materials. First off, the straps were of a rather soft, and fluffy, pinched and pulled to create a puff of sorts, on both shoulders. Across the chest, was a stretchy material, pulled tightly around her bust, where an invisible stitching moved the nylon to meet with the silk covering her stomach. The dress fitted incredibly well, emphasising her curves, exaggerating her small waist. Further down, was the skirt. Made of crepe as the first layer, the one to be seen, it was nearly transparent, and crimpled excessivly. Underneath the crepe was a few layers of golden calico, before a thin layer of hesh plumped out the skirt, fanning it out around her in a delicate fashion. To refrain from scratching and itching her thighs, there was a silk slip around the skirt, all she could feel against her legs was the soft embrace of smooth silk. Matching golden pumps adorned her feet.

She stood from the sill and walked to the table of supplies she had previously set up. She was not going to ruin such a beautiful dress, so more of these tools, would not be needed. Should something go wrong, then a little blood, splashed across the bodice wouldn't matter, would it?

First, she picked up the plum pink lipstick and bent over the table, un capping the stick and winding it up to a reasonable hight, she rubbed the stick against her lips, transfering the pink colour to her plush lips. Once satisfied with the coat of lipstick, she recapped it and set it down, taking a look at herself in the mirror. Her hands clutched the edge of the table as her chest heaved in a deep exhale.

Her eyes drifted from her reflection to her tools, more tears sliding their suicidal mission down her cheek, she gave up on ideas of a clean death, and instead, lifted a scalpal. She took a long hard look at the sharp blade, one she'd stolen from the hospital her father worked at. This scalpal had cut open many patients, and helped in the progress to save their lifes.
Now it would end hers.

Without another delay, she opened her mouth slightly, placed the sharp blade in the corner of her mouth, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and with a grunt, ripped the blade through her flesh. Blood spurted out as she ripped her cheek open, slicing up towards her ear, with obvious effort, she ripped the blade out of her flesh, and swapped hands. Blood was flowing from her ruined face, and staining the beautiful dress she had hoped to not ruin. Now she put the blade on the opposite corner of her mouth, and repeated. Tearing through the flesh all the way to her ear. The pain became intolerable. Her grip on the scalpal slackened, untill the clang of metal and blood hitting the hard floorboards could be heard over the splattering of blood dripping from her ruined face. Her lids drooped, her body lolled, arms falling uselessly by her sides.
The last thing she saw, was her distorted face in the reflection. The only way she would truely smile, was if she was cut ear to ear. The disgusting image shocked even her, eyes snapped open as she fell back, landing in a puddle of her own blood. An arm crooked above her head, the other layed over her stomach, her legs tucked to the side. Her mouth was ruined, in a permanant smile.
And that was how she would stay.