"i hope your happy." my therapist tells me when my rapist dies.
she was always so defensive over him. that was her brother. i'm related to both of them.
at first nobody believed me. so that's when i started cutting.
every night.
blood dripping.
the best feeling in my life.
i didn't cry.
i laughed.
so pathetic.
after about a month i wrote a final letter. i did it on my birthday.
nothing really happens.
you just die.
it's better this way.
they never cared.
ps. these are from different povs. they all end up kinda similar tho. btw i love you <3
