✩☽Strifeproxy24☾✩

Katie’s earliest memories in South Dakota were filled with uneasiness. Her mother, Marlina Elias, was haunted by mental illness. She spoke of tall, faceless figures lurking in the corners, her wide eyes always seeming to be filled with terror. The house felt thick with dread, every silence stretched taut, every shadow threatening. Katie, the youngest, clung to her brother Liz for comfort, but nothing could hide her from her mother’s unraveling mind. When their mother disappeared into the night, Katie and Liz were left to defend themselves in the world. That loss shattered the last traces of safety, setting Katie adrift in a life that would never again feel secure.

Soon, social services arrived, and the pair were taken from the only home they’d ever known. The world outside was vast and merciless, every unfamiliar face a reminder of their isolation. Katie barely spoke, shrinking into herself as the days passed. Nights were difficult, filled with Katie asking her older brother when they could go home and when their mother would return. With every day that Marlina remained missing, the hope of finding her withered.                                                        Swallowed by uncertainty, Katie drifted through foster homes with Liz as her only lifeline. The days stretched endlessly. Every day blended into the next. Liz would reassure Katie that things would get better, though sometimes Katie couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or trying to convince himself. Katie’s grief twisted into anger as she grew, her outbursts unsettling the adults around her. Foster homes blurred together, none offering safety. At six, Social Services decided to separate the two, a decision that would plunge Katie into loneliness and despair as the last bit of structure in her life was torn from her.

Katie’s childhood was defined by instability. Trusting others only ever seemed to end in pain, so Katie learned to rely on herself and keep people at a distance. As she grew, she became guarded and quiet, preferring solitude. Katie’s antisocial behavior did not go unnoticed. Other children distanced themselves from her, while adults labeled her a ‘problem’ child after frequent fights and attempts to run away from foster homes. At twelve, one escape nearly cost Katie her life, leaving her permanently disfigured and blind in her right eye. This trauma deepened her sense of isolation. Paranoia began to take root, and Katie moved through life on constant alert, convinced that others could not be trusted, and an unsettling feeling that something was always watching her.                                                                                                       Katie’s paranoia only intensified as she grew into her teens. While she ran away less often, the pattern was replaced by frequent visits to hospitals and therapists. Katie found these interventions more frustrating than helpful, often shutting down and refusing to cooperate. The feeling of being misunderstood and trapped pushed Katie to her breaking point. Managing to get a hold of a pistol in her foster home, she made a final, desperate escape. Choosing to either escape or die trying. This time, Katie vanished for good, leaving the State unable to find her.

With her newfound freedom, Katie would drift from town to town, state to state. Katie became familiar with crime, living on the edge of the law to survive. To her dismay, her paranoia was not left behind in South Dakota. It seemed to only grow with the walls Katie had put up around herself. At night, she would experience nightmares. Visions of a tall faceless creature, one that seemed so familiar yet distant in her mind, almost as if it was something she’d known before but had long forgotten. Then came the sickness. At first, it seemed as if there was a small cold, soreness in her head and body. She paid little attention to it until there was blood. A bloody nose every once in a while turned into a regular occurrence. Sometimes, it even devolved into a coughing fit that ended with blood in the sink and Katie struggling to catch her breath. She found herself more irritable, becoming more prone to violence than before. Then came that thing.

The faceless being, once resigned to her nightmares, was now appearing in the corner of her eye. It was everywhere, seemingly hiding just out of sight, around corners, in the shadows, everywhere. Katie did her best to ignore it, brush it off, sum it up to being unmedicated for a few years now. But it persisted.                

By 18, Katie had moved farther east into the Appalachian region, deciding it was best not to stay in more populated areas. She needed somewhere with fewer people, fewer eyes able to watch. But that creature followed. Its presence increased, becoming incessant. Most nights devolved into Katie lying there in the dark, whispers from every direction reaching her, yet she was unable to decipher what they said. When she returned home, she wouldn't shake the feeling that someone had been there in her absence. Leaving Katie unable to decipher between reality and her own paranoia.

Katie’s earliest memories in South Dakota were filled with uneasiness. Her mother, Marlina Elias, was haunted by mental illness. She spoke of tall, faceless figures lurking in the corners, her wide eyes always seeming to be filled with terror. The house felt thick with dread, every silence stretched taut, every shadow threatening. Katie, the youngest, clung to her brother Liz for comfort, but nothing could hide her from her mother’s unraveling mind. When their mother disappeared into the night, Katie and Liz were left to defend themselves in the world. That loss shattered the last traces of safety, setting Katie adrift in a life that would never again feel secure.

Soon, social services arrived, and the pair were taken from the only home they’d ever known. The world outside was vast and merciless, every unfamiliar face a reminder of their isolation. Katie barely spoke, shrinking into herself as the days passed. Nights were difficult, filled with Katie asking her older brother when they could go home and when their mother would return. With every day that Marlina remained missing, the hope of finding her withered.                                                        Swallowed by uncertainty, Katie drifted through foster homes with Liz as her only lifeline. The days stretched endlessly. Every day blended into the next. Liz would reassure Katie that things would get better, though sometimes Katie couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or trying to convince himself. Katie’s grief twisted into anger as she grew, her outbursts unsettling the adults around her. Foster homes blurred together, none offering safety. At six, Social Services decided to separate the two, a decision that would plunge Katie into loneliness and despair as the last bit of structure in her life was torn from her.

Katie’s childhood was defined by instability. Trusting others only ever seemed to end in pain, so Katie learned to rely on herself and keep people at a distance. As she grew, she became guarded and quiet, preferring solitude. Katie’s antisocial behavior did not go unnoticed. Other children distanced themselves from her, while adults labeled her a ‘problem’ child after frequent fights and attempts to run away from foster homes. At twelve, one escape nearly cost Katie her life, leaving her permanently disfigured and blind in her right eye. This trauma deepened her sense of isolation. Paranoia began to take root, and Katie moved through life on constant alert, convinced that others could not be trusted, and an unsettling feeling that something was always watching her.                                                                                                       Katie’s paranoia only intensified as she grew into her teens. While she ran away less often, the pattern was replaced by frequent visits to hospitals and therapists. Katie found these interventions more frustrating than helpful, often shutting down and refusing to cooperate. The feeling of being misunderstood and trapped pushed Katie to her breaking point. Managing to get a hold of a pistol in her foster home, she made a final, desperate escape. Choosing to either escape or die trying. This time, Katie vanished for good, leaving the State unable to find her.

With her newfound freedom, Katie would drift from town to town, state to state. Katie became familiar with crime, living on the edge of the law to survive. To her dismay, her paranoia was not left behind in South Dakota. It seemed to only grow with the walls Katie had put up around herself. At night, she would experience nightmares. Visions of a tall faceless creature, one that seemed so familiar yet distant in her mind, almost as if it was something she’d known before but had long forgotten. Then came the sickness. At first, it seemed as if there was a small cold, soreness in her head and body. She paid little attention to it until there was blood. A bloody nose every once in a while turned into a regular occurrence. Sometimes, it even devolved into a coughing fit that ended with blood in the sink and Katie struggling to catch her breath. She found herself more irritable, becoming more prone to violence than before. Then came that thing.

The faceless being, once resigned to her nightmares, was now appearing in the corner of her eye. It was everywhere, seemingly hiding just out of sight, around corners, in the shadows, everywhere. Katie did her best to ignore it, brush it off, sum it up to being unmedicated for a few years now. But it persisted.                

By 18, Katie had moved farther east into the Appalachian region, deciding it was best not to stay in more populated areas. She needed somewhere with fewer people, fewer eyes able to watch. But that creature followed. Its presence increased, becoming incessant. Most nights devolved into Katie lying there in the dark, whispers from every direction reaching her, yet she was unable to decipher what they said. When she returned home, she wouldn't shake the feeling that someone had been there in her absence. Leaving Katie unable to decipher between reality and her own paranoia.