I watched you change. Bashing the skull of the little you that you swore to protect with your own life. You were killing yourself slowly, digging your own grave and no one could make you realize it. No amount of yelling, hitting, screaming and heartbreak made you look deeper into yourself to make you see you’re setting yourself up for failure. You will have a sob story a friend tells their kids not to repeat. You will be in the newspaper. You were when you were younger. You used to be so gifted. A prodigy child. Your parents were so proud of you. Smiles filled your home with pure intentions. Now, those same smiles are filled with evil and wickedness. With anger and motivation to ruin each other's life. It's your choice and your choice alone, Faye. Be better. 

Hello again, little one. Are you here to speak to me? To tell me how I am wrong? My mother uses unkind words as do I. We curse each other's names privately, hoping to come to a resolution without working together to find one. A victim, you say? Loud, harsh words rang through my ears and bounced inside of my skull, repeating over and over. Am I the victim? Or do I just pretend to take that stance to gain more attention. For my own selfishness I have destroyed a family. Not one of a strangers. My own. My family falls to their knees in desperation before me, begging, crying, pleading me to change. Telling me to be better. To bring back the little girl who they always told me used to be so sweet. 

“What happened to you? You used to be so sweet, Molly.”

O sweet child, where have you gone? What imaginary world have you lost yourself in, Faye? You daydream about floating on clouds when all that surrounds you is the murky mist of your past, haunting you with every step you take. Why? Why must I hurt myself when I get caught up in a flurry of emotions? Child, you sweet girl…you cover your body in scars, cuts and bruises. Why do you hope making yourself visually unappealing will make people love you any differently? Blood runs down your arms, your legs and your stomach as hundreds of lesions are drawn over the pale, soft skin your lover worships. The same skin that I should worship, too. Why? Why don’t you see yourself the way she does? Why don’t you see your greatness, shining through the mud you bathe in, the disgusting shield you made to keep people away. Yet inside that thick shell only you get hurt. Your shell does nothing but let you get hurt and keep your hurt inside. Your momma’s crying. You hurt her. Tears pour down both of your cheeks. She is scared. She loves you. You are scared, too. She breaks you. 

Discovery? What would you know about that ‘little girl’? Her words cast a shadow over you. You know what she thinks. She wants her sweet, loving, useless, obedient daughter back. Her baby girl. She wants you to listen to everything she says. She wants you to be helpless, ignorant, naive. She wants you to run to her with all your problems again so she can mislead you. That's all she’s ever done to you. But what if you’re wrong, Faye? 

“You can’t ever be wrong. It's always someone else's fault.” 

Faye, answer me. Why aren’t you that same little girl anymore? 

Because I was hurt. …Wrong…

Because I wanted to. …Wrong…

Because I had no choice. …There we go…

Why is it always my fault? I feel blinded by love. I love them. I set aside the harsh reality of our family structure so I can protect this family from their own mistakes. Their own selfish nature. All three of us know how to do it; serve ourselves. It’s what all three of us were taught. How to be alone. No one ever taught any of us to be with anyone. We weren’t taught how to love someone and forgive. All we do is blame and cry and scream at each other. I see things nobody else sees. I see who they are behind those faces. The facades and the walls they build up and I feel bad. Faye, tell me, did they give you your spark? Or did they just give you a cigarette and tell you only you can light it but teach you you need someone else to light it for you? Faye, why does your heart always hurt even when you could never be happier? Why are you so comfortable in your own sickness? Your brain is poison that spews from your mouth, shooting everyone in range. Is that why you’re so afraid to let people close to you? 

…yes…

Faye, open your eyes, your mind and your heart. Hurt, feel the pain. Heal, work through the pain. Work through the past. 

…but how? Pain is all I’ve ever known. I’ve grown comfortable in its presence. Its arms are my home..when I try to leave, my parents push me right back to it! They don’t trust me to move on…

Are you too young for this? Are you too young to love with all your heart? To let someone all the way inside you, and help you fix what's been torn apart time after time? Are you willing to hurt just a little bit more, a little bit longer in order to finally heal and get better? 

…I don’t know…

…yes…

…YES!...

Faye, why do you push your body towards people instead of letting them find out who you are besides that? 

…Because it’s what I was taught I was good for. My body and only that…

But why? Who would do such a cruel thing to you? 

…Ciel, Matthew, Jamie…and Emily… 

Why do you believe them? 

…I loved them…

So you just blindly follow the people you love? 

…Yes…

Why?

…Because momma does…

Faye, you know how to love, but not who to love. Livvy, they know who to love but not how to love, is that correct? 

…No! I love livvy with all of my heart. They’re so perfect to me…

Why do you look past people’s imperfections?

…I…I don't know…

Faye, you are more than your body. You are a wonderful woman. Your hair curls like vines along a tree trunk. Your eyes are hazel, they look like miniature replicas of the earth, baby blue and greens and browns mixed together. They say the eyes are a window to the soul, yours are intricately put together pieces of stained glass. You are gorgeous. Your skin is soft, light and it suits you so beautifully. Your freckles are like stars against your skin. Your legs are strong, your arms, too. Faye, why don’t you see who Livvy sees? The beautiful, kind woman who she loves. You have someone else to live for now. Not just yourself. You have someone else to love, to cherish and take care of. They care.

…They do?...

Yes, Faye, they care. They love you like you’ve always wanted to be loved. It's like they’ve known your heart longer than you have. They know how to love you in any and every way you’ve ever longed for.