Description
"Why...?" "Why is it always you?" "What do you have that I don't?" "Tell me, how are you better than me?" "You're nothing." The words spilled from her lips like bitter poison, whispered into the silence as she lay sprawled on the unforgiving concrete. A small girl, no older than ten, her fragile body marred by deep bruises and punctured by the cruel remnants of countless injections. Her breath trembled-shallow, uneven-as though each exhale threatened to be her last. "Abandon everything... and you will live." The voice-whether memory, ghost, or delusion-echoed inside her, offering a promise as hollow as the alley she bled in. She was a canvas of suffering, painted in grotesque hues: yellows and purples bloomed beneath her skin, while streaks of red-some dry and cracked, others still wet-ran across her limbs like a child's careless brushstroke. Each wound told a story. Each mark was a reminder. And still, even here, with death's shadow looming and her body slipping beyond the reach of pain, one thought consumed her. Even now... I envy you.
Origin #1
