A woman struggling through life finds herself constantly depressed. When one day, she wakes to find a few red strings wrapped around her neck. No matter what she does, she can't seem to cut them, or get them off. ..and no one else seems to even notice them, when she is out in public; as if she is the only one who can see them. Each day that she sinks further into depression, a new string is added, and each day that goes well, a string is taken away.

Unbeknownst to the woman, these strings are the working of a demon, who's goal is to 'strangle' her with these strings, so that he can take her soul. The more souls they get, after all, the higher their rank in the underworld. Once the strings become an unbarrable amount, after all, she will become swarmed with suicidal thoughts, and feel as if she 'can't breath.' Of course, the outcome of such things is obvious...

Yet, at some point during his endeavors to be sure she has the worst time of her life, each day, he...starts to get a bit attached?...



"Another one?..."

A soft, groggy feminine tone would murmur; the image of her pale, long neck clear in that of the reflective mirror before her. She would run her finger tips along the soft red string, which so snuggly held that of her throat.

One...two..three....Three strings. Coincidentally, the strings had begun appearing three days ago. And, it seemed, things in her life had begun to turn even more sour than they had before,as if their mere arrival was a bad omen plaguing her. She had attempted to pull them off, and even cut them, but to no avail; the thin thread seeming to remain unscathed. Even stranger yet, she found when going out in public, it was as if they were utterly invisable to anyone else but her.

Really, she had learned more so to live with it, despite the extreme rare occurance; a soft, aggitated sigh leaving her pink, glossy lips. She had an air of beauty to her, if you looked past the bags beneath her eyes that indicated her lack of sleep. Her face well-shaped, and round; big crystal hues gazing back at herself, in the mirror, as she stood there.

The woman had long, silken locks of blonde hair that, as of currently, was quite messy from sleep. Well, perhaps more so of having attempt sleep, and simply rolling around for hours of the night. She had a petite frame, and perhaps stood at about 5'5. An average stature for a woman her age, which was 21.

Groaning a bit, she would otherwise turn from the mirror: stripping her clothes from her frame, to shower. She did have to go to work after all; to her life..

Ha! A pathetic life...

Having moved out from her family's home when she was 18 to live with her lover, the two seemed quite content; opting to start their life in that of a different state. But, she had come home, recently, to find him cheating. Of course, the natural reaction was to break up, and kick him out; leaving the freshly broken-hearted woman, alone, with that of their two-bedroom apartment, and her mediocre waitress job.

It kept the bills paid...well, barely; the woman hardly getting enough hours to keep herself fed. It had only been a few days since it all started, but she knew well that the upcoming months would be a choice of food, or rent. But, it didnt all end there...She also seemed to find her boss to be getting a little...gropey, lately, and she found there to be no way she could make it back to the comforts of family with the little amount of money she had...

Not to mention, she had that of her college work..

Things were just piling up on her...

Finishing her shower, it did little to relax her, as it often used to; her body tense, as she could almost feel the pressure along her chest. She had work today, and she could already feel her mind gnawing to what may come of it. Would she make good tips? Enough to get some food? Or maybe fill the gas in her car?

Decisions, decisions....

With that in mind, she began to tug on her clothing; a white button up shirt over her undergarments, a pair of black khakis, and black shoes. The final note her apron, as she tied it in a neat bow behind her....

"Well...here we go..." The woman would murmur, while peering dully at herself in the mirror, once more; lightly patting her cheeks, in hopes of bringing more color to them, and otherwise hyping herself up for the day. Quickly, she would tie her long locks into that of a messy bun, with a few loose strands falling against her face, as she prepared to leave her home.