Melanie.
I HC her with PTSD, below is an attempt at writing for Melanie, and partly for myself as I view myself in her.
I find comfort in her.
Forgive the poor writing - It's not something I practice nor specialize in.
"A curse that it is to live.
Every moment of your existence is only to serve the purpose of remembrance. What is done cannot be undone, let your existence be proof of their selfishness.
You shouldn’t have survived, and you are well aware that death would have been preferred over whatever life you have now - you cannot even call it yours, it has became theirs the moment they decided to taint it for their own personal gain.
No matter what you do, you’re fragmented, and you carry them with you, even if unwillingly… You’re too aware of this, you’re too aware that it was their choice to make you live this way. Did they gain satisfaction from this? All they ever touched is now ruined - as if all had a reflection and that reflection can only imitate their face, their expression at that moment.
You’re constantly reminded of their unremovable damage to you, and no matter what you do, or where you are, they’ll be there, their face mocking your every stage in life.
You cannot even manage to function properly, they have ruined everything, breathing itself is a reminder that you shouldn’t have survived.
It was egoistical, never forget.
You never mattered to them, they only wished to get something out of you because you decided to be vulnerable. Your vulnerability shouldn’t have costed you, I’m sorry."
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