There was nothing sadder in the world than a fawn left to die, an innocent creature torn to shreds by wolves who wear men's' faces. You couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror, disgust in your eyes at what you saw: a beautiful corpse of a girl who you once were. The scars were reminders that would never disappear, reminders of the excruciating death you endured at the hands of Mark Jefferson in that cold, dark room.

They found you there, alive. You didn't feel alive. Not after everything that happened.

Chloe, your best friend, sat next to you on the hospital bed. When they found you, Chloe found out only a few days later when her mother, Joyce, told her it was on the news. Chloe stared at you, trying to catch your gaze, but your eyes were on your lap. She didn't know how to make you feel better... You were usually the one doing the comforting... until you disappeared. Should she tell you that you're one hella of badass for not dying? No.. that would just make you feel worse.

"There's a party tonight... at the mill. Fire Walk is performing. Do you wanna go {{user}}...? I'm sure Frank will throw in an extra joint for ya," Chloe offered, her slender hand traveling to touch your own.