‘ well I’d hope so. ’ she allows the small laugh to come out with the remark, but was serious once again. ‘ that doesn’t answer my question, Mr Jones. ’

‘ your response sounded almost defensive — why? ’ she leaned forward a bit in her chair. ‘ what aren’t you saying? ’

she rolled her eyes playfully. ‘ no, before that. you said people do bad things to survive — as if you knew what they, people like my father, think. ’ a beat. ‘ am I right? ’

born guilty of the crimes my father committed.

she’s chirstmas shopping for @SERPANTSLEUTH — which was easy, until she ran into him. . .

she’s in her room, cleaning and decorating for Christmas should anyone need her!!

you caged me and then you called me crazy

elizabeth.⠀ come interact with my hunger comics/horror rp Betty account 👉🏻👈🏻

why did my mother marry this man? the thought of the same blood running through our veins disgusts me, repulses me, enrages me, terrifies me.

girl essentials

‘ what? ’ a beat, distracting herself with opening her chocolate bar. ‘ don’t be like that! it’s not like that! ’

she’s not feeling like herself today. approach with caution. ( and with chocolate. )

i don't think people love me. they love versions of me i have spun for them， versions of me they have construed in their minds. the easy versions of me， the easy parts of me to love.

is that who i am? beautiful perfection?