desertedd
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little red


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red hair, cold heart, fast mind

Red. The color of the simplest rose. The screams that echo through the blank hallways. The loudest cries no one gets to hear. Red is the color of pain--the blood of your friends. The fire you see and the rage that crawls up your throat. It is the itch you can not scratch--constant. It is the way she says your name as you slip away. It means to know when you have to stop. Red makes you feel when you wish you couldn't. They call me Little Red because of the way my hair cascades down by back, blushing with its red hues. I call myself Little Red because I destroy more than I create.

divide and conquer.

Story: https://www.wattpad.com/story/24681728-little-red


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