She was a question he was always trying to answer

He never once saw how beautiful the unknown was

How beautiful she was

He was fearful of what he didn’t understand and she terrified him

He didn’t see her as free, he saw her as wild

An animal in need of training

A pet searching for a master

He treated her with the respect he thought she deserved

The type of respect one gives to their subordinate, to a child.

She was an enigma and he couldn’t find the key so he broke her

He tore the wires, cut the metal, and smashed it until there was nothing left

Her flaming locks which made her regal were doused in water

Her jeweled eyes were hidden behind thick lenses.

The birthmark just below her chin was covered in pools of foundation

She no longer was a mystery for she no longer existed

She walked as a ghost, neither living nor dead

Her voice was silent and her actions were quieter still

He had tried to “fix” her

Tried to make her small enough that his simple mind could understand her

Instead he tore apart the girl who was impossible to decipher

And she let him

She wanted him to look at her the same way she looked at him, with love

She thought that if she let herself be chipped away at, that maybe one day he would look at her with love, not dissatisfaction

He never did though and one day she lost hope he ever would

All he saw her as now was a broken tool

He had taken her apart and hadn’t found answers

There was nothing left for him anymore so he packed his bags and left

The part that had died inside of her long ago devoured her until there was nothing left but dust

Later on the newspaper would have a obituary for her

It would tell the story of a women who married the man who had made her into a lady and how they loved each other more than anything else in the world

Were he to have read the obituary he would have simply scoffed at the way they misunderstood her and turned the page without a second glance

She was a mystery without any clues to follow and no one to remember her the way she was

No one recalled her hair that was so red it appeared to be on fire

Or her emerald eyes that had a streak of wild

Not even the mark below her chin that she used the say was a sign she was special

No one remembered and she simply faded into the background; blending in with all of the other broken and forgotten things