#poor angie

You don't know what they've seen. What they've done. What they've taken.

(Why did they get in your mind?)

How could you be alright when you keep seeing your own body moving against your will, as if in a dream…

Or a nightmare. A nightmare lived out and blamed for.

"Stop. Asking. Me. That. RICARDO!" It's not his fault, but you don't care. You just need to hurt, punch something, take action to make yourself not feel so helpless. You never thought you'd end up feeling so caught off guard by the helplessness like this, not after you became a hero. It's a lot better when you can use your claws do the talking and crush a problem under your fingers.

(Why?)

You want them to hurt. You want to bring your hands around their neck and scream, demanding answers from them.

(Why you? Why do this?)

You want to rip them apart, make them understand how it feels to have your control taken away, having the violation of the most intimate parts of your soul seen without permission. Want to shred them for taking away your sense of security, for making you feel like even the most base, essential parts of you aren't safe from them. It makes you wonder darkly when you fall to sleep if you'll wake up swinging again to everyone staring accusingly at you for what you've done.

How can you feel safe in your own body again?

Screw them. They care more about their big stories and making assumptions rather than actually getting themselves involved in any real journalism.

So instead you analyse your fight scene together frame by frame, trying to study the way they work. Trying to prepare yourself against them so they'll never get the upper hand on you again.

(Why you?)

(Why?)

(Why?!)