I should hate her. I should punch her and scream at her until she never wants to see my face again. But as I stare up at her, I don’t see the monster, the one overtaken by ambition. I see the little girl that has had her own choices taken away a thousand times over. I see the little girl longing for everything that she has never had, safety and security.

She is good at hiding her pain. She hides her hurt behind a smile.

I was not chased by ghosts, yet I am haunted

You can’t heal hurt with hurt. That’s not how it works.