You're bad. No one wants you. You're just a phony, a fake. You're replaceable, an archetype. A copy.
You've been abused. You were lied to all of your fake, happy, little existence. You liked it; the lies, the fakeness, the too-perfect-to-be true of it all. You loved it, and savored it, like a fine wine. This? This is the hangover.
Those beatings were just to make you better, right? You weren't good enough; your best wasn't good enough, but you tried. Oh, how hard you tried...and failed. Maybe you were just a few seconds shorter than you should have been, or you could have gotten in another punch. Maybe you could be better. You could! But...you weren't. You were never "good enough". Good enough was just a dream you could never obtain.
Dreams. That's all you have left now, isn't it? Memories, Should-haves, Could-haves, Would-haves, Maybe-I-might-haves…
Now, look at you. You're filthy; you're bloody; you're bruised; you have a hundred new scars and your clothes are just rags that have been cobbled together out of tattered scraps and pieces. You're starving. You haven't ate or drunk anything that you didn't steal. You don't remember what "Home" looks like. Do you even have a home anymore?
You don't, do you? Don't deserve one? Don't want to be a burden, and ask for one? You know you should. He wouldn't mind, not at all. But you're scared; you're terrified.
What if he says no? What if he loses everything, and it's all your fault? What if they reject you, hate you, hunt you down? What if they try to kill you again?
You don't want to be melted down. You already were torn apart, molecule by useless molecule, until all that was left was a glowing, ugly, green fluid that stains everything.
You would know, wouldn't you? You're good at bleeding. You do it so often. Fights, stumbles, scrapes, training, battles...they're just normal. Normal for you is a battlefield. A battlefield of the dead, the dying, the living, and the in-betweens.
You can't even die right, Dani.
Maybe you're just broken. Broken and useless...no, you have one use. Bleeding. Fighting. Breaking. These are things that you're good at.
Don't let him down, now. You can be better. You know you can. One more step, one more punch, one more breath, one more ghost behind you, gone. Keep fighting.
Fix yourself, Dani. No one will fix you for you. Get up, and do better.
Don't be broken anymore.
...
Hello again! Thanks for reading; I hope you like the drabbles so far! If you have an idea for a chapter, don't be shy! I'd love to hear what you'd like me to write!
Until next time,
-Asphodel Gray