and you shouldn't have to pay for your love, with your bones and your flesh
Author’s note: The following hasn’t been beta’d, nor have I done more than a cursory edit so there will be tense switches galore. Sorry about that. It’s not a happy fic, it’s me using Darcy to explore my own memories and the abuse that left its mark on me and left me with depression and anxiety and a really fucking hard time loving myself. My therapist said writing about past events can help take the power from my memories, so that the pain lessons and I can write about me now saving me as a kid. I didn’t really get to the saving part, but it took a lot to write this so I’m sharing it here. Maybe it will find itself on ao3 one day if I have it in me to write more and give Darcy a happier ending than how mine is.….
They’re fighting again. Screaming so loud she thought the paint might peel off the walls. Maybe if they kept screaming she would melt away too. Melt like the bad guy at the end of Raiders and she wouldn’t be there any more.