She sips the cup of black coffee, which is
equivalent to the taste of death on her lips.
Before you she drowned her coffee in milk
and sugar to make it sweet enough that it
was just like her soul. But when you came
along she grew dark, and her soul became
less sweet as did her coffee. The day you left
was the last time she ever poured even a
speck of sugar and a drop of milk in her
coffee. Her soul rotted, and she was dead
inside, so as she had always done, she
drank her coffee black to represent her soul.
A soul that was once so sweet it could replace the darkness out of any living being just with the tiniest glimmer in her eyes. Unlike her the others had eyes, eyes which were the blackest of all shades of black, they looked as if you could see right into their soul and feel the pain inside of them. She could feel a feeling shes never felt before, she felt nothing as if they were dark tunnels leading no where but to more darkness. That feeling now became her own, she could finally understand what they felt. She could now feel how it felt to feel nothing, she was numb. Her eyes were always brown, but before they were a brown like her sweetened coffee but now they're as dark as the coffee that tastes like death. Her eyes really did show her soul and it showed everything she felt. All the pain and heartbreak. She constantly burnt her tongue on her scorching hot death but she was used to it because her heart was burnt and turned to dust. She never was happy as long as she drank her cup of death in the morning. And she always drank her coffee black now, no matter how much like death it tasted.