A Sad Girl's Memorial

This is Girl speaking. This is a story inspired by an anglerfish who rose to the surface. It was completed February 2025, in the span of a few days, and then never looked at again. (This is actually the very first story posted on this blog, although it does not appear to be.) "In the trench, beyond the twilight zone, is a girl who longs for the above. She is huddling on a dust covered surface, the ashes of those who have been. Once, there might have existed others like her. Girls who found warmth in each other, even in the tightest of spots. She laments their presence, without ever having known them. “In the vastness of nothing,” she whispers to herself, “there is one who has been left behind, disrupting the peace of nonexistence.”  She moves her face towards what she supposes is upwards. Up there, in the mass of pitch-blackness, are droplets of bioluminescence, separating the obscurity of it all. The first time she ever saw them, these luminous beings of the abyss, happened to be...

This is girl speaking. I wrote this story, but I am not entirely sure why anymore, or what it even is supposed to mean. Maybe someone out there will figure it out before me.  "Little Mary went missing on ice 3 times throughout her lifetime. The first time, she cannot recall. A third hand memory, delivered to her in after nine dreams. Past the witching hour, she would lay, braids tucked under the snow and flakes of words she never spoke falling. She told herself she would stay as long as she had to wait for something to feel, a tingling in her fingers or a stomp on her heart. Nothing ever came. The moon bore no witness as the wolves had gone to sleep, and their last remaining hope, a pup not even past two, down south. And the stars... the stars were counting all the little final breaths underneath her lungs, the fishes who had made it to the depths but suffocated under pressure. There was a strange calmness to the scene, a dying which she saw no need to fear. But, she woke up. ...