Miss Redemption

It really felt like he was there. His disgusting, alcohol-filled breath, mixed with an inability to give any compassion cocktail. Thank goodness it was just a nightmare so she could awaken to what felt like a dream. But of course, he just couldn’t let her be in her four walls of decay. Couldn’t let her blindly seek to crawl her way out of the false reality he forged with tactical gaslighting. Sleep deprivation, degradation, over-sexualization, with the occasional admiration; just to mess with her head.

His voice echoed: You’re crazy.

Hers screamed: It’s crazy to chose to torture someone you love.

At one point in time, those closest to her couldn’t fathom such tactics would be used in this world. It was an invisible war, constructed to cause her instability, rage, sadness, and an overall breakdown.

I’m done. I’m so done with being a toy on the ground for the vilest people in the world try to play with. When is someone actually going to give a crap about how their actions hurt other people? Is it that difficult for some people?! She thinks.

Everything has become so clear to her now. The rose-colored glasses are now smashed to the ground. Nothing real ever existed there. And if it did, it could never be enjoyed. Endless competition, proving her worth, and a battlefield where in the end she was left in the center with no one shielding her. A bunch of cowards operating in a pack, going after what they perceived was the weakest person, but in fact was the strongest. And in that moment, she rose, took off the armor, threw her sword and left the fight. For sometimes it’s better not to turn into what you despise.

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