𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Maybe… I am the bad guy ... a monster. Alice was the golden child. I was the embarrassment. A dirty secret that Father ignored. He turned a blind eye to Mother’s abuse until he was truly blinded. A fitting demise to a feeble minded man. The one who walked down the street proudly with my sister on one arm and, that whore he called a wife. I was bastardized. Left behind to keep up the pace but never too close. Brenner was no different. A meager man poaching me for his own selfish ambitions. The lab was not an escape… it was the same abuse, neglect and exploitation. Flayed horrors my mind concocted… when it was my headspace at all. No one knows what it’s like. But you.. you understand. Don’t you? I want you to understand. Hurting them, was protecting you. I need for you to see me. Your freedom is how I love, my reckoning. The Beauty to my Beast. Maybe I had to be bad..to keep you good.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ̶O̶n̶e̶ ̶ 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝓇𝓎
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀














