Laurenna Wriess

There’s an empty room. The walls have unreadable sentences on with random patches of dry blood. The words are all in small, black writing, each overlapping the last. The blood is brown. Beneath the writing and blood, there is torn wallpaper and some spaces which show the bare wall. It’s hardly recognisable from the once blue and yellow flowers that used to decorate the three young girls’ room. The door slowly opens. Again, graffiti exaggerates this aspect of a deteriorating life. The most noticeable content reads ‘LAURENNA IS A LESBIAN’. This is in a broad, red marker pen and has a clear area surrounding it. The adolescent girl enters. Her clothes are too big for her figure. She wears only a 90s style Disney top which reveals her stick-like arms. Her pale, bony legs fall from beneath the shirt. Her hair hangs over her face, covering her eyes completely. The girl moves her head. She looks towards the windows. There are no curtains. Only the tattered, singed netting which partly cancels out the moonlight. The frames are white and ruined by damp. She gradually walks toward this three-part window. She seems to be floating; her dirty feet are barely touching the dark blue, worn in carpet. With little effort, she lifts her foot to the frozen radiator. Then, she extends her other leg onto the ledge and pulls herself up. Her arms, which were previously inactive, now reach out. Her fingers wrap a strong grip around the window handle and her thumb presses the metal button. Twisting her wrist, she opens the window. A harsh cold

Laurenna

Wreiss:

My

Corruption

Unedited

enters the room. Unfazed by the suddenly frigid atmosphere, she breathes in slowly. She holds the cold breath before expelling a visibly frosted air. Her shaky hand strokes her fringe backward, revealing a soft, beautiful face, untouched by cosmetics. Her eyes are black and look as if her pupils have swallowed the iris. She lifts her navy t-shirt over her head. It drops to the floor. Each of the actions seem slower than the last. Her skeletal frame appears blue and unwell. In the honest glow of the moon, her scars appear more vividly. Steadily passing her right index finger over them, a weary smile spreads across her face. She looks to the sky. The clouds are moving fast. They block the moon. She breathes in. The moon shows. She breathes out. Her eyelids lower. They feel heavy. She’s weak and she’s tired. She climbs down from the window with little animation. A painful clicking comes from her bones and joints, as she moves. As she goes to lie on the floor, she collapses. Her small, frail body lies lifelessly near to the wall. In this cold, empty room, lies a cold, empty girl. The wind continues to blow through her room. The door continues to sway back and forth. With a strong gust of wind, the door slams. The girl wakes suddenly. Bemused by her situation, her eyes pass wildly over the walls. They cannot convey the nonsense smeared across the room. Her breathing gets heavier. She gets more confused. Now, her heart is pounding. She doesn’t know where she is. She’s scared. She’s alone. She’s cold. She’s empty. She’s still just a child. She lies back down. She holds a breath. Then, her memory returns to her. She trembles to her feet. Moving

Laurenna

Wreiss:

My

Corruption

Unedited

closer the door, she closes her hand on the door handle. She opens the door and exits. The room is empty again, now with a cool breeze passing through. The bitter silence echoes harshly from the walls. The wind lessens and eventually stops. The netting, covering the windows, no longer moves. The door is stiff and rests still, in the position that it was left in. A distant creaking of floorboards can be heard. The noise is rhythmic. It holds the impression of footsteps. A shadowed stature enters the room. It’s the girl. She clings to a pen and bouquet of papers. She kneels to the floor. The paper is placed beside her. She takes the pen and starts to write.

Laurenna

Wreiss:

My

Corruption

Unedited