Don't you know what she did to me?

"Is this my punishment for things I did in my other lives? I whisper to no one but myself. "I have changed; not really, but it's nice to fantasize." I huff "Depression is hilarious," I chuckle and smirk sadistically. "They don't know, that's good." I say these things late at night. Away from eyes and ears prying for information to use and abuse. Don't you know what she did to me?