“He was a puppet master, a psychopath. I should know, he’s the one who made me what I am today. He took everything and everyone from me, even my innocence, he made my life a living hell, so I sent him there.” She laughed, a blood-curdling, bone-chilling laugh. “And the worst part is, I didn’t feel anything when I killed him; his blood painted my hands, my clothes and I was happy. I didn’t feel anything then, but later I was terrified; I was terrified because I had turned into something I utterly despised. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I had turned into something so vile, so terrible that it was slowly eating me from the inside until I couldn’t bear it. The puppet master pulled one last string before he left this world forever. He turned me into him.
There was a story involved with this, one of emotional horror more than physical ones, one of a young naive girl broken down, and one of her rising defiantly from the ashes and exacting her revenge. But this one small paragraph feels much better than the story I might never write.
Em's world 