Something small fluttered in the air, delicately landing onto her open palms. A small paper crane sat in the curve of her hands, the wind gently shaking its wings. She held it up in the air, noticing the glinting black lettering. Curiosity sparked deep inside her heart and she brought her fingers to the crane’s folds.
Slowly, she unfolded the paper crane. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her hands. Shock burst through her and she abruptly dropped the paper crane to the ground.
Ruby red edged the border of the wing, seeping into the white paper. Soon after, she tentatively brought her hand to eye level. The sun glinted off her shiny blood, hues of crimson and burgundy dancing in the light.
A harsh gash ran diagonally across her palm. She winced as she dragged her finger across the cut, wiping away the blood. A throbbing ache nestled into her palm.
Gingerly, she unfolded the crane, her eyes widening at the words typed onto the origami.
You’re too sensitive. You overreact too much. Keep things to yourself then!
She stared at the writing, her heart dropping heavily as her eyes raked across the words over and over again. The people who wrote it didn’t know how hard it was to keep the shadows of monsters that prowled in her head to herself.
“It’s never enough,” she whispered to herself raspily. “They always want something from me. Always. But everything I do; it’s never enough for them.”
Soon after, tears stung her eyes like ice, shadowing her vision. She didn’t see the storm of paper falling onto her until it was too late. She looked up. She pressed her eyes together as the origami cranes slashed her skin viciously.
A few moments later, every inch of her skin burned with fire as she waited out the storm. The spiraling wind calmed, but the cranes still overwhelmed her.
She couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded in her ears, her chest tightened with fear, and her eyes blurred with salty tears.
Bright red clouded her vision, and all she could see was the deadly image of the words that stabbed her heart. She clenched her teeth as the whirlwind of paper cranes spiraled faster, until the tornado was just a blur.
Her scream cut the air like a blade, abruptly stopping the storm of cranes. The cranes fell to the ground, lifeless, ruby red splattered across the snow-white paper.
She fell to her knees, feeling as vulnerable as ever, tears streaking her cheeks.
I’ll never be enough for them, will I?
