Revenge After Death

Perhaps I was unsettled, so I couldn't sleep soundly. After all, I had nearly been raped and trafficked.

I wondered how the old Stephanie Carlson would have handled it if she had been in that situation. She probably would have attacked Howard and Bobby with the knife before handing them over to the police, wouldn't she?

Regardless, I wasn't that Stephanie anymore.

Sometimes, I couldn't help but wonder if I was the Stephanie Carlson whom Steven loved. If Steven still loved that Stephanie, then was I - who had lost those memories and personality - the person he loved?

If a person's character had changed, would they still be considered the same person?

"Stephie... I want you to live on, that's all I ask."

"Steve... You can't hold me back."

"Stephanie Carlson, please don't be so cruel to me."

"But I have no heart... "

I had a nightmare. In the dream, I kept hurting myself, trying to end my life with all kinds of methods. I was seeking an escape.

Steven chained me up, cried, and begged me not to continue. He even went as far as hurting himself in front of me, threatening to end his life alongside mine if I wouldn't stop hurting myself - I watched him coldly, without intervening.

want to die, I'll go with you; if you want to hurt yourself, I'll

gazed at him coldly, struggling to break free from the chains. "It's no use, Steve. We can't escape from this... I'm a monster. I won't genuinely have feelings for you. Even if you were to die in

blood dripping from his fingertips. After a long silence, he spoke with reddened eyes, "Are you hungry, Stephie? I'll go buy you

left, consumed by deep

my chest to ache terribly. I wanted to shout out to Steven, to

heavily, sweat dripping from my forehead and

me from behind and whispered, "Stephie... did

at Steven, still breathing heavily, and after a long pause, I leaned into his

now reliance, or perhaps something more... With those missing pieces of my memories, I wouldn't label it as love, though. "Please don't hurt yourself anymore, okay?" I said softly,

body noticeably tensed as he held me. "Does it pain you

he was hoping for a certain response, as though he had been waiting for this answer

myself that I had to give him the answer he wanted, even if

held his wrist and whispered, "It pains me if

kissed my forehead

was left speechless, finding

"I protested, ending up lying on top

was too intimate; with one wrong move, something

couldn't help but marvel at his stunning eyes, though I had always been aware