- Local time
- Today 5:01 PM
- Messages
- 380
- Pronouns
- she/her
Red sparked.
The first look, that first message. The pulse in her throat when they said she was different from all others.
Special. Chosen. Wanted.
It came fast—intense—hot and hungry, like a wildfire over dry grass in desperate need of water. It threatened to consume her, and she welcomed the familiar heat of the flames dancing across her skin. It was thrilling—she felt seen and safe.
The intensity looked like truth.
Orange was cinematic.
Warm sunsets caressed the jagged edges of her psyche, smoothing and polishing them like precious stones. Shared jokes. Creative sync. The lull of intimacy built through captivating words. She basked in the silken glow.
They were building something together…weren't they?
A bond. A story. A future.
She ripped off pieces of herself to share, pieces she had never shared before. She gave them away, freely. They were no longer hers.
The spark glowed brighter, wrapping around her like a promise.
Yellow flashed its warning lights.
Confusion. Delayed connection. Ignored messages. Negging. Testing.
Their words stopped matching their actions. The connection went unanswered. Silence deafened.
Dull, intrusive thoughts blocked her path. She turned away from them, trying to find a new way around. She worked harder. Did more. Adjusted. Bent. She sifted through the static between words and silence.
They led her deeper into the shadows with no lantern of their own, then punished her for bringing the light with her.
The spark flickered.
Green started to rot.
Sickness spread—more silence, more confusion. Devaluing. Discarding…envious rotting. She was no longer their shining jewel; their light in the dark.
"You're too unworthy," they said.
They'd vanish for longer periods of time, then return when convenient. To destabilize. To control. She asked for clarity, to meet her back at the beginning. She was met with more silence. She was no longer safe, no longer seen.
The spark went out, still warm to the touch.
Blue became grief.
Tireless pacing. Anxious ruminating. The crying, the hurt.
The pain swarmed like locusts, buzzing in her ears and nipping at her flesh. She mourned; for the death of hope, and for the pieces she gave away too freely, no longer tethered to a genuine connection.
The spark felt cold—distant—in the palm of her hand.
Indigo shifted.
It was dark in the shadows without any light. But she had walked in willingly. There were many things she was afraid of, the darkness wasn't one of them. Why start now?
Quiet clarity came to her on her own. Insight bloomed like petals around her.
"This isn't love," whispered the light. "This is control."
The spark calcified.
Violet broke.
She met herself in the darkness, alone and trembling. The quiet stilled.
"Look into the mirror," the light whispered. "What do you see?"
She parted her lips to speak. "I see…accountability, honest reflection, and growth."
"Good," said the light. "I'm here to lead you there."
A blinding radiance shattered out of the spark, searing her flesh with white-hot pain.
She broke open, not down.
Every muscle in her body coiled with scorching sinews. Her spine cracked and bent. Her heart parched open, blistering. The light poured inside in fevered waves of sweltering heat.
It transformed her.
When the light faded, she blinked into the darkness that remained.
The spark glowed from within now. She looked down at it, as if noticing a curious stranger for the first time.
"I'm broken," said the light, and then it turned into a rainbow.
She walked out of the shadows, finally free.
The first look, that first message. The pulse in her throat when they said she was different from all others.
Special. Chosen. Wanted.
It came fast—intense—hot and hungry, like a wildfire over dry grass in desperate need of water. It threatened to consume her, and she welcomed the familiar heat of the flames dancing across her skin. It was thrilling—she felt seen and safe.
The intensity looked like truth.
Orange was cinematic.
Warm sunsets caressed the jagged edges of her psyche, smoothing and polishing them like precious stones. Shared jokes. Creative sync. The lull of intimacy built through captivating words. She basked in the silken glow.
They were building something together…weren't they?
A bond. A story. A future.
She ripped off pieces of herself to share, pieces she had never shared before. She gave them away, freely. They were no longer hers.
The spark glowed brighter, wrapping around her like a promise.
Yellow flashed its warning lights.
Confusion. Delayed connection. Ignored messages. Negging. Testing.
Their words stopped matching their actions. The connection went unanswered. Silence deafened.
Dull, intrusive thoughts blocked her path. She turned away from them, trying to find a new way around. She worked harder. Did more. Adjusted. Bent. She sifted through the static between words and silence.
They led her deeper into the shadows with no lantern of their own, then punished her for bringing the light with her.
The spark flickered.
Green started to rot.
Sickness spread—more silence, more confusion. Devaluing. Discarding…envious rotting. She was no longer their shining jewel; their light in the dark.
"You're too unworthy," they said.
They'd vanish for longer periods of time, then return when convenient. To destabilize. To control. She asked for clarity, to meet her back at the beginning. She was met with more silence. She was no longer safe, no longer seen.
The spark went out, still warm to the touch.
Blue became grief.
Tireless pacing. Anxious ruminating. The crying, the hurt.
The pain swarmed like locusts, buzzing in her ears and nipping at her flesh. She mourned; for the death of hope, and for the pieces she gave away too freely, no longer tethered to a genuine connection.
The spark felt cold—distant—in the palm of her hand.
Indigo shifted.
It was dark in the shadows without any light. But she had walked in willingly. There were many things she was afraid of, the darkness wasn't one of them. Why start now?
Quiet clarity came to her on her own. Insight bloomed like petals around her.
"This isn't love," whispered the light. "This is control."
The spark calcified.
Violet broke.
She met herself in the darkness, alone and trembling. The quiet stilled.
"Look into the mirror," the light whispered. "What do you see?"
She parted her lips to speak. "I see…accountability, honest reflection, and growth."
"Good," said the light. "I'm here to lead you there."
A blinding radiance shattered out of the spark, searing her flesh with white-hot pain.
She broke open, not down.
Every muscle in her body coiled with scorching sinews. Her spine cracked and bent. Her heart parched open, blistering. The light poured inside in fevered waves of sweltering heat.
It transformed her.
When the light faded, she blinked into the darkness that remained.
The spark glowed from within now. She looked down at it, as if noticing a curious stranger for the first time.
"I'm broken," said the light, and then it turned into a rainbow.
She walked out of the shadows, finally free.