You lost. You lost. You lost.
The sun bled red into the sky, reminiscent of the blood spreading through pure white, darkness hinting on the edges.
You lost. You lost. You lost.
And he thinks about that day when he believed he had broken her. When He had foolishly celebrated his absolute win.
She had retaliated. And not in the way he had imagined. He had owned her, she should have lived by his will and should have died by his will too.
Broken dolls did not conspire their own death.
Broken dolls did not fight for their own self.
Broken dolls did not look at him with rage and fire in their eyes and slap him in the face with defeat.
“You lost.”
She had spit, with blood gurgling out of her mouth, anger and resentment boiling over her lips, eyes blazing with fury and a man othe
