Cherita Chen, she stood for everything, everyone I was meant to be saving. The worried, the weak, the innocent bystanders, the ones who had no say, no input into this whole situation, they were given no choices. She represented you, the weak people I needed to save, the people I died to save. Weak, can be taken the wrong way, no matter the way it is expressed, but this isn't meant to be offensive, but if you take offense that's on you. I don't mean weak physically, or even emotionally or mentally for that matter, I mean a different type of weakness that everyone and Cherita share. The type of weakness where you're starving from the hunger of wanting to do something that would help a situation, but you can't. It's like a weakness of watching someone about to get shot but you can't scream to warn them, the weakness of knowing a different outcome if things have played out just slightly different, the weakness of knowing the difference a second could make, the second between life and death in some cases. It's the weakness of desperation, the desperation to help,... but you can't. This weakness is due to lack of control, you just have to sit back and watch everything happen and it eats away at you. It doesn't make it any better that all the hope you could possibly have would have been in me, a schizo on placebo pills, good luck staying hopeful. I made a promise and I needed to keep it. I told Cherita, promised her, "everything is going to be better for you." I wasn't talking to her, or just her, she was everyone to me, everyone I was saving, that's who she was even if she didn't know it, Cherita was more important than anyone could have realized. She wasn't just one, she was everyone, and she had no idea.
