The Day She Died.

She died the day she turned 20.

It attacked her and destroyed who she was. It stole her heart and everything that mattered. She was left lying on the ground, with only a body of air and dirt. Nevertheless, she stood up again and faced the sun. In its haste, it left a piece of her soul. She took one step at a time back to life.

But it came back for it.

At that moment, she laughed. Her body shook uncontrollably. “Take it all, take it all,” she said. Because being 20 made her realise that Life was indeed merciless. And she was left with nothing.

She was only 20, and yet, she was dead, dead in an empty bottle; still she was living, living in death. She kept on taking one step at a time, into certain nothingness. She bumped into other bodies; she met with new experiences. Life was being thrown at her but she could not return the favour.

She might as well have been a porcelain doll. She was played with, but she could not play with.

This picture was taken during our annual Monash ball 2015 at the Majestic Hotel and features a real performer, posing as a kind of statue.

An Evil Nymph.