Damage Repaired

Chapter 1

A/N: You guys clearly seem to be confused so I'll clarify this right now. Anastazi had a miscarriage in Chapter 81 of Damage Control.
_____________________

The concept of life is fairly simple.

You live, and then you die.

It's kind of fucked up once you really think about it. What's the point of living if we're meant to die in the end?

Honestly, what's the point of anything?

Everything is meaningless when put in this perspective, but I came to the realization that most people simply don't care or came to terms with this thing called life. Death is an enigma that is both inevitable and inescapable but what matters most is the time spent between life and death. Some people spend their time doing good while others do the complete opposite.

It's simply the way of life.

I don't think my late father quite understood what it meant to be good, to truly be selfless, so I took matters into my own hand and made the best of the shitty hand I was dealt to finally do good and remove the shame my father stapled on our last name.

I gave all my father's money away the second I owned Faye Industries again. Every penny went to the families who suffered from his selfish actions, forcing the company bankrupt just for me. Once they were taken care of, I hopped on the next flight to Africa, far away from my life, from reality, and that's where I began my work—my transformation.

Using the rest of the millions my father had, I created jobs for the men and women from impoverished villages, I built schools, homes for the families, playgrounds, libraries, hospitals, grocery, and clothing stores with prices low enough for the villagers to afford with the jobs they now have. I started and finished multiple water treatment processes allowing them clean, uncontaminated water to last them generations to come.

I used my father's money to make a difference, and for the first time in my life, I felt fucking free.

I continued my charity work around the globe, giving back to the people who didn't grow up with a silver spoon in their mouths as I had. During my time in the countries I went to, I took the time out to learn their culture, their way of life. They taught me their native tongue, dressed me like one of their own, taught me how to cook their meals using the utensils they made by hand, which of course, I also learned how to make.

I played with the children on the playground, running around, laughing until it was so dark outside we couldn't see anything, which is when I decided to build lamp posts.

And to top it off, I helped so many village women give birth alongside their midwives to beautiful, healthy babies, something I didn't have the luxury of doing.

They gave my life purpose, meaning. They healed me in places I didn't know were broken; they took all my scattered pieces and built me up, making me whole again. They gave me a reason to live, and that's something I will cherish for the rest of my life.

But as always, all good things must come to an end. I spent the last four years traveling around the world, healing myself and others. And after all this time, I finally felt ready to leave.

"Do you have to leave Miss Ana?" Thabo, the sweet little eight-year-old I met two years ago, asked, clinging onto my leg as I attempted to pack my belongings in the only duffel bag I brought. I sold all of my clothes before I left, so it was mainly filled with the clothes I made with the help of the villagers along with souvenirs I had been gifted from the friends I made in the different countries I visited. Priceless pieces to remember them by as if I could ever forget.