i just woke up. i mean that literally, of course.

i think what really bothered me was that my therapist didn't seem to understand that i am so, so heavy with guilt and shame. it's not even my trauma in a way. i was just the one that let it happen, or at least i feel that way, and now i live with that. every day, or every day that i think about it, i just feel weak and stupid. it doesn't matter that i was only a little kid. i knew better, and i should have handled it better.

i should have been able to save her, but i couldn't, so i force myself to pay the price tenfold. even i can tell you that. i just care so deeply that it really does hurt. my entire body hurt earlier, tiny spasms tightening my muscles until i was wound so tight i thought i would just snap in two.

it's not like i can even tell her, "i'm sorry. we were just kids."

it's just not one of those things.

so i'm here, reaching a final stage as a catalyst, becoming the warrior, the archangel, the protector, the savior. i am no survivor, but you can bet your life that i will be here to help the survivors through. i will sacrifice everything and give my all in penance for my weakness.

...i'm sorry. i was weak, but now i'm strong. i couldn't help you end it, but i'll help you finish it. i'll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again.

now i can help. please, let me make it better.