A Character...

She's ugly. The core of her, anyhow. I won't say she's beautiful on the outside; she's not. The surface, that thin veneer is plain. No adornments, very solemn murky colors. Her mouth is slight, her eyes are quiet. She hates inside, oh, but it is a quiet hate. It won't burn out soon. A ghost, that's what she is, living in the past, clinging to regrets. She moves ever so gracefully, soundlessly. Invisible. She glides from corner to corner but none ever sees her. She feels little but the resentment, the hate she holds on to. It consumes her, like slow-moving poison. She'd be nothing without it. And she'll never die. Don't you know? You can't die twice.

Her name is forgotten, but we'll call her Solange