I lay here, unwound. I know I need to ask for help, but I hate it so much. My punishment for my defiance of fate is to just lay here for hours until someone notices me. If I lived alone like I wanted, I would probably be like this for days. So during this time, I wonder. Would I be happier if I remembered my old life? My old name? My old life sent me to the hells. Would I be thankful for what I have now or would I be upset at what I lost?
Though, no matter the doubts, I always come to the same conclusion. I crawled out hell to live, I will live through this.