She was lost in life, given the cold shoulder. She passed over to the dark side and was accepted. Time after, she wanted to go back. Fruitless attempts to keep her all worked, except for the last. She was granted back, but still, they begged her to stay. She was so torn, so conflicted, her pain and confusion overcame and killed her.
Rebellion of the lost, resulting in her death.

She was up so high. Everyone loved her, adored her. Not one flaw was spotted about her, everything she was around was inferior compared to her, no matter the prestige of it. She was so perfect she could cover up any trouble she faced, nobody even noticed her underhanded, cheating lifestyle. There was one situation she reached that she, nearly, could not cover up and escape. It almost ruined her reputation. Until she, being so perfect and powerful, managed to cover and hush it up, restoring her perfect, unperturbed nature.
Power nearly being broken, but only to be covered up, again, by perfect lies.

She was psychotic. She was mental. I won't lie, she was left alone there for her own good. She started as a fair beauty, she was the finest lady. That was, until she cracked. Her first taste of blood was all it took to turn her into a bloodthirsty murderer. They chained her up in the darkest, foggiest forest in hopes she'd die there and never return. She stayed chained for years, feeding off the souls of animals passing by. She escaped her chains when a foolish girl wandered into the forest. She could smell, her, a living creature. No one heard the screams, nor the laughter. And now, no one sees the girl.
[Cannibalistic] Psychotic loose in the forest of unheard screams, and she's a bloodthirsty killer that shows no mercy.

The two things she cared about most were gone. It was like her soul was ripped out of her body, deliberately. She felt life was no longer worth living. Little did she know, she was going to be with them soon. She felt alone and cold inside, it was all over soon, though.
Despair and loss, soon to be killed.

She wasn't like the others, she knew that. Her life was haunted by her past. It followed her around, it, even, took the black from her heart and put it in her soul. Darkening her life and stalking her wherever she went. She knew she was never alone. But will she ever escape?
A perfect life burdened by darkness.

She loves him and he knows it. She can't be away from him, but, sometimes, she cannot withstand the presence of him. They both know and acknowledge the temptuous, haunting enchantment. Her more than him, though. She feels dead, or, at least, near death with and without him. Lately, she's felt possessed by him. Maybe it's just love, maybe it's something more. More mysterious, mystical, unexplainable.
Two innocent souls in love becoming one through [spiritual] possession.

She knows her life is troubled. She compensates to the, her, haunting darkness within. Feeding off her sorrow like a vulture feeds off dead animals. The pain inside eats away at her, but she ignores it, already accustomed to her withering heart and soul. If only she could see them again, one last time, to tell them how much she loves them and wants them back. But they'll never return, no matter how much she hopes. They'll never see each other again. Face-to-face, looking deeply into each other's eyes. Showing her love for them never ceased. Not once.
The one thing worth having in her life, gone, and nothing can be done to erase it.

She was lost. No way out except for death. They begged her not to, but she wouldn't listen, she needed to leave. She went through with it, and she lay there dying, knowing they would come. They'd hoped to be able to stop her. And they just barely made it in time. They tried to wake her from her eternal sleep, but she wouldn't wake, even though she still was alive, just by a thread. She couldn't wake, though. She couldn't move, frozen inside by Death's toll. The two subjected to join her by killing themselves along the same means as her. A knife cutting the wrist. They did so over her body, dripping a few drops of blood onto her. Immediately, she unfroze within and awoke to look into their tear-streaked, tearful eyes. And to none's dismay, all died in unison.
Suicide can lead to, either, tragedy or people going where they feel they belong. But never both.

She bleeds the darkness. She cries her blood and soul. That shows her lingering despair is true and undying. Her sorrows never depart, they always remain. They give no warning of when they'll flare but she doesn't care. Her life is over and she knows it. We all were born to die.
The darkness is bled, and her blood and soul have been cried.