My mother, Barbara loves to tag me in all these social media posts about girls being attacked—or worse. As long as all of her friends can see her being a ‘good mom’ then all is right in the world. Her world anyway.

My world has always been lonley. The truth is, I have only ever known saftey in solitude. My mother never knew where I was or what I was doing. She didn’t notice when I would stay in my room for days without eating or showering. IF she noticed, it was only to tell me how disgusting I was. She wasn’t wrong, but as a mother how could you not notice your child struggling so much. Maybe when you’re obsessed with keeping yourself in the spotlight you learn to not be bothered with ‘overly sensetive kids’. Except I’m not a kid anymore. One could easily argue I’ve never been a kid. I’ve always been a professional scapegoat for my narcassistic mother to project her own miserable feelings of herself on me. Sometimes, even professionals drop the ball. You see, while spending my entire twenty-four years as her personal sacrificial lamb, I lost myself. There was a time I thought the world was at my finger tips. After having all my flaws (what _she_ considers flaws) pointed out daily and used as a weapon to exile any last ounce of confidence I had—I started believing all of it. I wasn’t good enough for my own mother to love, who else will?? What’s the point in all of it? I became numb. So much so that I feared life far more than death.

"PLEASE let me pick you up, Cass.”

I get text messages like this from my sweet boyfriend Chris everytime I work late at the hospital.

“you know I love walking at night. I’ll see you at home. Love you!”

It’s true. I do love walking alone after dark. I don’t fit in with the daytime world. Everything and everybody just seems so bright and happy. So…_alive_. No thank you. Sticking to the darkness and hiding in the shadows is where I belong. Chris is terrified something bad will happen to me. I feel bad for making him worry. I feel even worse for hoping something bad _does_ happen so I can stop feeling this constant ache of dissapointment I am.

_no Cassidy…NO! You deserve to live a life you love. _I hear this on repeat in my head whenever I start questioning myself. She’s right and so is Chris. It’s not safe for a woman to walk alone especially after dark in the city. After tonight I will try to not be so selfish and think of the man I love and our future kids I hope we have someday. Before leaving the hospital I dig my phone out of my scrub pocket and send Chris a text.

“Leaving now. Meet me at Joe’s for drinks? I want to tell you something that you’ve been waiting to hear for a long time now. Be there in 15”

…………

_what happened? where am I and why the hell does my brain feel like it’s going to explode? I can’t see anything. Did I drink so much I blacked out? It feels like I’m in a car. Chris must be driving us home. Why can I not see though? AND OH GOD WHY DOES MY HEAD HURT SO BAD. I keep trying to ask Chris what’s going on but I can’t speak. I’m in so much pain and just so tired. maybe if I close my eyes and take a short nap I will wake up better. I just…need….to close..my…….eyes……. _

_————————————————————————————————————————————————_

_ _

_ Barbara_

_ _My daughter is dead. She went out and got her skull cracked open by some psycho in the city. Why would any woman be out past dark unless she was looking to draw attention. I guess she never thought what it would be like for _me_ when everyone discovered I raised an attention whore. I am just sick everytime someone looks at me with those ‘poor lady’s_ daughter was murdered’ _eyes. I don’t need their pitty, besides, I always told her to never walk alone.