Glitter

A girl, her long brunette hair floating in waves around her, lays on a white comforter in sequins shorts and a faded blue The Great Gatsby t-shirt. She lays staring up at the ceiling as ethereal classical music plays and sunlight streams in through the blinds. The sunlight seems artificial; it lacks warmth and light as if someone were to lay in it too long they would suffocate. A sequins skirt and various fine pieces of jewelry lay scattered on the shag carpet. She hums to herself and plays with her hair as she stares up at the stars on the ceiling. She poses delicately and prominently.The room is pure white. To mask the clinicalness, there's a string of lights hung to the wall. In the corner there is one lone window.  

The girl gets up suddenly and gracefully bounds towards the window. She opens it with gusto and peaks her head out. Thirty feet below, everything is on fire. 

Screams can be heard. Soul penetrating, vein stiffening screams of agony. Fire is all around consuming everything. Blackened chunks of building stick up at mangled angles. They're shards, like onyx glass- that look as though they've been perpetually burning. The fire spreads out endlessly as far as the eye can see. The further you look, the further the screams get until they are only indecipherable whispers- breathless prayers sent out into the blaze. 

The girl closes the window again and silence followed by the music returns. She skips again, and lightly falls onto her bed, sighing.

"If only it was covered in glitter; how pretty it would be."