I want her to suffer. I want her to feel regret. I want her to repent. I want her to have uncurable mortal disease, and to look in her sad lifeless eyes full of pain while she's on a badsheet.
You don't know how I hurt. You don't know what I am capable of feeling. I am the scapegoat. I am the freak. I am misunderstood.
I am in pain.