Words can’t even begin to describe how terrible you are, how ruthless you are, but I’ll do my best.
You never just throw one punch. You won’t rest until you’ve killed two birds with one stone. Not only did you take my grandfather away, you changed my family forever.
You creeped your way into my life ever so subtly. You kept your presence scarcely known for a while, but that wouldn’t last forever. As much as everyone wanted you to disappear, as much as we denied your presence, you wouldn’t stay unknown. You thrive on attention. You love knowing that you are slowly taking an innocent life, and scarring that person’s loved ones.
First, you strike memories. Nothing major at first, just simple things like forgetting where you put your keys or missing an appointment. You won’t just stop there, though. You take away your victim’s sense of reasoning. You make them feel like they’re going crazy, and like it’s all their fault. It’s not their fault, though, it’s your fault. You love playing mind games. As if all of that weren’t enough, you take away their memories and recognition of their loved ones. You looked at a young girl with tears in her eyes, desperately wishing her grandfather could somehow remember her, and you felt victorious.
That’s already bad enough, but as your vicious nature progressed, so did the symptoms. Now, you took my grandpa’s ability to eat food or walk on his own. You loved this, didn’t you? You knew how much my grandfather loved to walk outside, and enjoy the fresh air. You take pure things and you crush them, destroying any trace of happiness. But did you stop there? No. You didn’t stop until my grandpa couldn’t eat, drink, walk, talk, or even breathe. You made his family literally watch him slowly die, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing we could do to stop you.
You’re happy knowing that I used to pray for miracles every night. You feel powerful in knowing that you had the ability to shake my faith, make it hard for me to not see a goodbye in every hello, and knowing how utterly terrified I am that you will strike again.
I bet you think you won, don’t you? Well, you didn’t.
Sure, you’re ruthless and lethal, but you’re also weak. You think you took everything from us, but you’re wrong.
Sure, you took his mind and body, but no matter how hard you tried, you could never take my grandfather’s soul. He died the same person he was before you entered his life. He had no clue who I was, but he sang to me on my birthday, even though he couldn’t remember all of the lyrics. He looked at me with a blank stare, but he cried and prayed when I was sick and had to go to the emergency room. He couldn’t tell you his own name, but he knew he loved God. You stripped away every physical aspect of him, but you couldn’t touch his soul. I guess you’re not as good as you thought you were.
You may have affected my family and I in ways that can’t be undone, but you never broke us. We had our rough patches, but we stayed together. We spoke words of comfort to each other, held each other as we cried, and mourned together. We also moved past you together. We won’t let you control our lives. You hurt us in unimaginably cruel ways, but you still didn’t win.
You may have shaken my faith and terrified me, but you’re done hurting me now. My faith in God is stronger than ever, and that is all I need to defeat you. He is my light, and I need not fear your evil ways when I have Him. I can peacefully live knowing that you have no effect over my grandfather anymore. You may have put my grandpa through hell, but you pushed him right into God’s loving embrace. When we have God, we always win, and you have no power over us.
You may have caused irreversible damage, but now you see that you couldn’t go anywhere near what is truly important.
In the end, you lost.
The girl who is done letting you hurt her
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