Cat Sonja

They'll always find it. It doesn't matter what, they'll find something wrong with you. Something so deeply wrong that they'll kill you for it.

They won't stop there. They'll pave over you. Over everything you built. Everything you made. Every idea, project, remnant of your existence. They will remove you from yourself, from what you made. Wear your face, tell themselves they were right for that. You had to be killed.

They had to take everything from you, to take the concepts that meant you away from you. They will break you apart and claim it for themselves, say it's better that way. And you won't mean anything. That meaning will be theirs. They'll wear your skin, the very concept of you. Warped, transformed, an image of hate.

And they'll ask why you don't trust them.