All my life, I waited for a sign that my existence had meaning, that there was more beyond the outskirts where I was born. I felt misplaced, a girl adrift in a world too vast and unkind.
But I escaped. I clawed my way out. I found freedom, piece by broken piece. I stitched myself back together with whatever I could find: shattered memories, cracked hopes, fragments of who I’d been.
I made myself whole again.
I learned it’s better to be named a devil than mistaken for a savior.
I won’t be seen as anyone’s salvation, I’ll become their reckoning.
The world will know that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.