You left her inside of a grave.
Sure, it hurt. It always hurt. But the louder she screamed, the harder you laughed. The further you walked away, abandoning her in the abyss; in the dark. She was afraid of the dark. The smell of blood was the worst part.
‘Heavy’ was the only way she could describe it. Even before it collapsed on top of her, she had had to carry it around with her- day after day- even though she longed nothing more than to leave it behind. It was always hanging over her, casting shadows and projecting its dull, gloomy outlook on life onto her own. Merging with her own views of the world; confusing her; becoming her own. It hung just out of her reach, tethered to a thread too fragile to hold the weight of something so heavy. She never knew what caused the thread to snap so suddenly, but it fell too fast before she could run, and it pinned her down. The weight of the world bore down on her, crushing her ribs and making each shallow breath more difficult and more painful than the last. No-one could help her, no matter how hard she cried for help. No-one else could see it- the weight that had been slowly crushing her. It was inside her head.
Only it wasn’t her head anymore. You made sure of that. You alienated her from her thoughts, her feeling; you warped all her beliefs and turned them against her. She hated herself, because you wanted her to. She hated you, because she knew you were right. You were always right. There was only one word thought of her own, left rattling through her head- on a constant loop, simultaneously taunting her and giving her hope. Her escape.
Her hands shook as she wrote on the piece of paper, the most meaningful words she had ever spoken.
I can’t do this anymore.