Ego's Trap | ✔

38 | Ane's Fine

It ached. It ached so very fuckin' much.

Why was I still not over it, over his rejection? Was he right? Was I not ready?

Why was I still not over it, over my pain? Am I ever gonna change? Is Dr. Connor not enough? Have I not opened up enough for him to help me? Have I opened up at all to him?

I'm so sorry, Teresa. I'm so sorry, Daniel. I'm so sorry, Honey. I'm so sorry, bean bags. Why can't I be sorry for hurting Jade? Because she's a demon? What does that make me? I hurt her, it doesn't matter if she deserved it or not. I almost killed someone. I may just try again someday, and I may not regret it. I might be a demon myself. A monster. I'm so sorry, Dr. Connor.

Will I ever be a normal, everyday person? I'm so sorry, Dr. Connor. Will I always be this way, or is it that I just need more time? I'm so sorry, Dr. Connor. Daniel. Teresa. Honey. Bean bags. Uncle Jesse. Molly. Mom. Dad. I'm sorry, so very sorry.

I'm so sorry, Ane.

I let myself look up at the mirror once again, and faced myself. I let the towel fall to the floor, and let my hands rest on my sides. I closed my eyes briefly, breathed in, and then out. When I opened them, there I was, bare and raw. A woman, yet still a girl in so many ways. Imani Ane Mayflower, nineteen-years-old, goin' on twenty soon. So many scars. So, so many, stitched right onto my rough skin, from injuries that healed in the ugliest of ways. Bite marks, too, from the most feral of men. One nipple, two melons. Three toes with nothing but flesh; no nail. A thick slash spanned across from the left earlobe, to the cheek, and all the way down to the chin.

There was a unique form of beauty in it all. So, so much beauty. It was the beauty formed from the bravest act of all, survival. I am no victim, but more often than not, when out of my tough, toxic shell, I tend to forget that.

There was once a time, not so long ago, when a girl looked back at me from a mirror. She was disgusting. There were wounds all over her body. Some wounds were mid-way into healing, some wounds were infected and bled nothing but pus, some wounds made her look like a tiger, particularly her thighs, from the deep cuts that had hurt like hell, from acts performed against her will. There were fresh bite marks on her back, on her shoulders, on her arms. A nipple had been recently burned off. Its remnants were eaten by god knows what. Perhaps by a rat, perhaps by him. She was horribly starved of food, of smiles. She truly was disgusting, I wasn't able to stand her. I rejected her, failed to accept that she was me, but over time, I learned something that remains with me to this day, and perhaps forever: that she and I were beautiful, that we were beautiful, that I was beautiful. That I was worth more than I had believed, far more than anyone did. That nobody deserved me.

I'm so sorry, Ane.

Over time, it bit me back, it poisoned me, it became a double-edged sword── it promised to keep me 'safe' as it held me hostage, but I never tried to break out. It used me, and I used it, too. It promised to keep me safe, at the cost of others. It was a horrible deal, but it held my head up high and away from my pain, and so, those I held dear, those I cared for, I hurt them all, and I didn't and couldn't stop it from happening. I still can't stop it from happening. One day, I hope I will, but who the hell knows?

This codependency, this sick support system of mine, solely made up of me, myself, and I, it's an ugly thing. It gets me nauseous, makes me shiver. It gets me scared; scared for myself, scared for everyone around me, because I've become nothing but a fucked-up person, down to the very core.

Teresa, my dear sister, have I really changed? I can't see it, all I see is nothing but a bitter bitch in me. Nothing more, nothing less. Do I even deserve Daniel, Teresa? He's too good for me. I'm a piece of shit. You deserved him. You're a good person, and I took him from you, just as you once said. There's nothing I can do about it, either; I fell for him, like the dumb idiot I am. I stopped him from moving on.