Victoria Nicolova
Bio
19
Vegan
College student
Mental illness warrior
Stories (4/0)
Dirty Snow
Dirty Snow She had never seen snow that color—a blended mix of grays and browns from the line of footsteps that had been walked over it, with holes from heels and imprints of sneakers left behind. The path towards the grave was covered in piles of snow since no one deemed it necessary to clean out a path in a graveyard. It made sense, she thought, it’s not like it’s residents could walk, and if you believed in ghosts they would be floating above the snow. Her feet dragged in it, heavy, like her heart. Her body shook from cold, but also from despair. Her eyes had been stained with tears for the past week. No amount of moisturizer could smooth over the circles beneath her eyes. No amount of foundation could cover the tired look on her face. Even when she wasn’t wearing black, people could tell she was mourning. Yet, today of all days, the day of his burial, she hadn’t shed a tear. She was as numb inside from the sadness as her body was outside from the cold.
By Victoria Nicolova6 years ago in Psyche
Red Flags
~When I look back on it I suppose I was looking through Rose Tinted Glasses~ I've never considered myself a naive person. In fact, I'd like to think I'm pretty good at spotting bullshit. But of course we all have our flaws and our moments. When it comes to our own endeavours we tend to put on rose tinted glasses and act like we don't see the red flags.
By Victoria Nicolova6 years ago in Humans