I looked like trash. Like something already thrown away.
Maybe that's all I've ever been.
Garbage pretending to matter.
Hot tears slipped down my cheeks before I even noticed them.
I didn't even feel the tears as they fell. Hot and silent.
But then something shifted inside me.
Something small… but burning.
A spark.
"...Screw it..." I whispered, my voice hoarse, but steady.
Michael glanced at me, cocking his head. "Hmm?"
I looked up and met his gaze. Not with fear. But with something else entirely.
Rage.
Hate.
Fire.
"Screw my fate," I growled.
"Screw destiny."
"Screw the sick bastard who wrote this story and thought I'd roll over and die."
"And while we're at it…"
I stepped forward.
My arm was still bleeding.
My eyes locked on his.
"Screw you."
"Screw your power."
"And screw this world for letting monsters like you smile while the rest of us suffer."
I didn't care if I died.
Not anymore.
I wasn't going to beg.
I wasn't going to back down.
