She realizes, for the first time, that it isn't as relieving as she desperately wants it to be.
The guilt sinks in, resulting in her stomach uncomfortably twisting and turning from the inside.
It's all the same.
The same routine.
The same pleasure.
The same regret.
And yet she continues falling deeper into the chasm that is filled with her own fears...
Because that's all she knows...
...that's all she has to live for...
At least that's what she tells herself...
She doesn't think she's worth saving.
...she doesn't understand how beautiful she really is...
But as she contemplates the knife... as she contemplates what she has done... what she has become...
She silently wishes she could escape.
