𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧?

𝐢𝐢 . . . PROLOUGE.

( the years between 1980? & 1993! )

SOLITARY WAS NO STRANGER TO HER. AS were anger and the crushing feeling of numbness. Guilt. Self-hate. Hurt and betrayal. They had always been old friends of hers, old friends who'd parted ways because they couldn't see eye to eye anymore.

Friends she detested.

She felt so much it hurt.

Solitary for too long was nothing but a pain.

And pain, she learnt, was a piercing arrow that finds its mark and strikes hard. It aims not to kill, but to hit where it hurts. It was her double-crossed acquaintance, a one she hated but welcomed with open arms.

Anger was a relentless storm raging within her, and left no corner untouched. It was a raging inferno within her, fueled by the frustration of being held hostage and the injustice she'd faced all her life for being born into this cruel, cruel world.

Numbness was like a thick fog that blanketed her senses, and it was her favourite. It was a frozen landscape and a stagnant pool, where the ripples of sensation ceased to exist. It felt cold, but to her, it was better than the rest.

Then there's guilt, her least favourite, and it ate her alive from the inside. It followed her like a relentless shadow, reminding her of her mistakes.

Self-hate was a venomous serpent and a merciless judge. It suffocated her until she couldn't breathe and lived rent-free in her head.

Then came hurt and the bitter feeling of betrayal. Cutting her like the shards of a shattered mirror, the fragments of trust scattered across the floor. It was a deep wound that time would never heal.

She felt so many feelings, but none of them were hers.