I didn’t want to exist anymore, so I stopped existing.
Sometimes she just wanted everything to stop. To not be there at the back of her head so that she could finally not be that person anymore.
The person whose parents didn’t even know she existed until they were trying to kill her.
The person who had to all but rip her sister’s mind apart in order to fix it. Twice.
The person who would be trapped forever watching over a family that, while the main line would live long would eventually grow old and die.
Leaving her alone.
She just wanted it all to stop so that she didn’t have to look at the long and lonely years that stretched before her without end.
She wanted to stop existing.
But she couldn’t.
To do so would require all of the stars in the universe to stop shining, ending life as anyone knew it.
She couldn’t be selfish like that.
So she kept going.
No matter how much she was dead inside.
Why am I writing this depressing thing? Because it wanted to be written that way.