Sharing Our Pains

Sven Carlson was sitting down on his chair, in his house, in his living room. He was reflecting about his entire life. Today marked a whole year since he had been in this very world. He met some great people. He had made great friends, and for three months now, he’s been in a relationship with his girlfriend, Mira Petrov. 

Sven loved Mira a lot. When she fully overcame her wary and preserved nature of him, she was very bubbly around him. She was still wary as well as being shy and preserved, which made the trust she had for him that more special. She was very lovely, kind, and overall a really nice gentle person to be around.

After all the trauma he went through and after all whatever trauma Mira went through, they felt a sense of something they hadn't felt before, or at least, not since their earliest stages of childhood. Peace. They spent months talking about how one day they'll meet new Stevalxians together. Their life was moving as forward as it could from their gutter-like past.

Mira also taught Sven a lot in his way of thinking. Mira showed him that there were good humans after all, just by being... well, her. For a long time, Sven hated other people. But with Mira now being his girlfriend, she broke Sven's bitterness and disdain for other humans. He couldn't just hate all humans anymore. Hating other humans would mean hating Mira, and he definitely didn't hate Mira. Mira had been a turning point in his life, she was his best friend, and now his girlfriend. Mira had played an important role in his life, and he couldn't owe her more, he just couldn't.

Both Sven and Mira felt they had some resemblance of peace. While they were definitely happier than they were back in their respective dark pasts, their relationship only acted like a plaster over a deep wound, a type of wound a plaster couldn't stop indefinitely.

As the night dawned, Sven yawned as he stretched out his arms until he heard his shoulders click. Buddy, who was sitting next to him on the sofa, growled. He was enjoying the nap and using Sven's lap as a pillow. Buddy barked, and looked at the stairs.

"Haha, of course you can- join me upstairs." Sven giggled, yawning in between. As he was ready to go upstairs, he heard knocking on his door. The knocks were irregular in rhythm. "Coming!" Sven exclaimed.

He opened the oak wood door. He was surprised, it was Mira, who was shaking and crying. She walked in without saying anything. Her steps were clumsier than the steps of a heavily drunk person.

"WOAH- you alright? Mira? Mira!?" Mira was hastily walking and she tripped, but luckily Sven caught her. Buddy, being a dog who was also very smart, used his head to push the front door shut. Buddy then headed upstairs, waiting for Sven and Mira to join him. As a dog that was trained as a therapy dog, Buddy picked up that Sven and Mira needed time alone together.

Meanwhile, Sven helped Mira to the sofa. He helped her sit down, and went to grab Mira something to eat and drink, but she had a hold of Sven's right hand with both of her hands. Sven, knowing something was very wrong, sat down next to her instead.

"Mira, what's wrong?" Asked Sven. He was very concerned for Mira.

Mira trembled. "C- can I- I stay the n- night h- here p- please? I- I'm s- so s- sc scared..." She was trembling so much, Sven felt physical discomfort in his body. But despite this, he stayed, as did his protective hug.

"Oh Mira..." Sven whispered, gently grabbing and holding her left hand with both of his hands. "You're more than welcome to come here whenever you want to." He reassured.

"Th- thanks..." Mira murmured. Her trembling stopped for the most part. But the trembling was still strong, notably in her voice. The inside of her chest felt like they were gouged out, she was that out of breath. Her throat was painfully swollen, it felt like it was pumped up by air, she was that scared. Her teary eyes felt so achy they felt like they were about to pop or simply roll out, she had been crying that much.

"C- can I a- ask you s- something?" Mira asked, and Sven nodded. "How... h- how d- do you b- battle y- your p- past?" Mira asked, then gasped, before covering her face. "N- no, don't a- answer th- that! That was too personal and wrong of m- me t- to ask..." Mira hid her face with her hair and hands. But Sven gently moved her hair and hands out the way. Sven's very dark blue eyes and Mira's purple eyes met opposite each other.

"It's okay... and, it's been on my mind to tell you for a long time... but..." Sven took a deep breath. "It'll change how you look at me." Sven glanced away slightly. Mira saw Sven was feeling guilty about something.

"Y- you can share w- with me anything y- you want t- to share w- with me." Mira was still wiping her eyes.

Sven took a really deep breath. He was now holding back his own tears. "The reason I didn't ask you to get me anything for my birthday is... is because I forgot my birthday. I tried to forget about the date of my birthday so hard until… until I did..." Sven paused for a moment, rubbing his eyes. Mira was taken off guard from hearing that. Sven's tears started to begin breaking through and run down his cheeks.

"I lost my parents in a car accident on my birthday as a kid-" Sven covered his eyes, trying to not cry, trying to 'be strong'. How was he meant to be strong for her when he wasn't strong for himself?

"S- Sven... I- I..." Mira had no words. If she lost Sven, she would be so broken. She cared about him so much. She dreaded and didn't dare to think about what it must be like to lose two important people. "I- I am s- so sorry to hear that- I- I..." Mira stuttered and stammered, she didn't know what to say. She held Sven's right arm with both hands.

"It's not me you should be feeling sorry for. It's the people who I took my anger out of after the car accident taking my parents." Sven ominously replied, taking a deep breath. "I didn't try to erase the memory of my birthday solely because I lost my parents... it's because of the monster I became that day and how I dealt with it." 

Mira was confused and concerned. "Wh- what do you mean?" She questioned, slowly letting go of Sven's arm, now slightly terrified.

"The other person in the accident survived- it wasn't fair he lived and my parents died- IT'S NOT FAIR!" Sven faced away as he screamed, but still causing Mira to flinch and briefly hide her face behind her hair. 

"Sorry... I- I didn't mean t- to scare you..." Sven stuttered his apology. Mira slowly uncovered her face. "I didn't forget my birthday just because of my parents dying. It was mostly because of how I handled the pain." Sven took in multiple deep breaths. Mira slowly nodded, telling Sven to continue.

"I knew the survivor was our neighbour. His kids- who were my age, they went to the same school as me. I often bullied them, because their dad- their name was Bobby by the way- their dad was the same neighbour who survived the accident my parents died in." Sven paused for a moment, so Mira could digest what was said.

"I... I u- understand..." Mira hesitantly nodded. She felt uneasy, because she was a victim of bullying herself. But this was also very different, very different. She understood and totally got why Sven started picking on and bullying these two said kids. He didn't become a bully to seek power, he became a bully because he harboured so much hatred for anything and anyone related to Bobby.

"If you think that was the worst bit, no... oh no." Sven's tears stopped coming. His voice became more cold. His heart still felt strong resentment. "I had been plotting for 'true vengeance' since the day I found that Bobby survived. But it required a lot of planning, because one slip-up meant I would be caught." His voice sounded much colder.

"When I became a teen, I became friends with someone. It was only because I knew his parents had a pistol- easy type of gun to discard after you finish using it." Sven stated. Mira was a bit shaken. She saw where this was going, but she didn't know how deep it would get.

"One day, I went over there for a sleepover. During the night, I snuck into the bedroom of my friend's parents, took their pistol and hid it in my bag." Sven started explaining the story. "After being dropped back off at my aunt's, I hid the gun for obvious reasons- I then began to work on making a mask replicating the face of Bobby's wife." Sven explained. "I also lied to my aunt about having a girl, just so she didn't question me getting girl's clothing." Sven added.

"D- did you k- kill Bobby?" Mira asked. She didn't know what else to say or ask. She just wanted Sven to know she was listening.

"No. At least not at first." Sven shook his head, and started to glance away from Mira. "I planned far worse things for Bobby." He ominously added, making Mira feel even less easy and cringe more, but she continued listening, she saw he was hurting like she was. "After getting clothes and footwear that Bobby's wife often wore, I bought a ton of batteries, and extracted the acid and put all the acid together. Then I used the CO₂ fire extinguisher that was in the house to increase the acid levels enough to a point it could melt metal you'd find in guns." Sven paused for a moment, as his eyes swelled with extreme guilt and regret. His shifted glance and less eye contact with Mira became more and more apparent.

Sven then continued. "Then I was ready. A few days later, I snuck out the house, and headed for Bobby's house, looking like his wife." Sven stated. "When I got there, I didn't kill Bobby, I shot the joints in his shoulders and hips. Then I stomped on his shoulders and joints, just so he'd be left unable to use his limbs and be wheelchair bound for life. For good measure, I kicked Bobby's head really hard, so he couldn't remember details." Sven sighed and took a moment to pause again. The deep guilt and shame in explaining his life decisions made those memories fresh again, memories he had done really well to forget up until now.

"Summarised up- dissolved the gun in the acid, tipped the acid out in the garden and headed back to the place I was staying that night, all while unnoticed. Then... well, Bobby made a recovery, and he thought it was his wife who made him wheelchair bound. His wife got life without parole and the kids had to go into foster care as their dad, Bobby- he couldn't look after them anymore." Sven shook his head, no longer able to look Mira in the eyes as he explained all of this to her.

"The wife then hanged herself in prison apparently- and then, yeah, Bobby's life was destroyed... like he destroyed mine... I was satisfied at the time... if I weren't allowed to have my family, then he wasn't allowed his..." Sven muttered, internally trying to 'justify' his violent wrongdoings, but that only made his guilt worse.

Mira, despite feeling very uncomfortable hearing this, she completely understood Sven. "B- but... you r- regret it now... r- r- right?" Mira didn't blame Sven. She knew what he did was very wrong on so many levels, but he was a kid, a kid who was very clearly hurt. While understanding Sven’s pain and seeing he deeply regretted what he did and was trying to be a better person, deep down Mira was also really troubled by it, and his story of what he did to Bobby as well as his kids beforehand, scared Mira.

Sven sorrowfully nodded as he tried to retain eye contact. "Yes, deeply... it was the monster I became that pushed me to force myself to forget anything to do with my birthday... concealing it into my hatred for other people- don't ask how I got away with what I did, I just did." Sven then sighed, wiping his tears away, but more were coming out of his eyes than he could wipe away.

"How... how am I a reliable person for you to put trust in... given what I have done?" Sven then looked away, but Mira twisted him back round so he was facing him, and then climbed onto and sat on his lap. She then kissed him, showing him that she still trusted him.

Mira, while condemning what Sven did, she also understood his pain. He was stripped of his childhood, just like how she herself was stripped of her childhood. She didn't just see or understand, she got his pain. 

"Whoever y- you were b- back then... I don't kn- know you a- as that p- person... I- I know you as the p- person who a- always l- looked out f- for m- m- me..." Mira stuttered, then planted her head under Sven's chin, and squeezed him tight with an embracing hug as her eyes got all watery again.

"Y- your past w- won't st- stop me f- from loving you... nothing will... you're n- not that monster... y- you're my shield, a- and you'll always b- be my shield... and I'll g- gladly carry and s- support my shield..." Mira didn't blame Sven. She didn't support his violent actions against Bobby at all, she internally condemned his actions strongly. But she also knew he had a very deep regret for it that ran deep into his mind.

For several minutes, they filled the silence of the living room with each other's cries. They hugged each other, supporting one another. Both of them were hurting, both of them needed each other's hug.

"Y- you didn't ask f- for this t- to happen to you..." Mira hugged Sven tighter. Sven then returned the hug, and cried with Mira. "Y- you a- accepted it a- all... unlike me... a- as in w- what h- happened to m- me..."

Sven stopped hugging her for a brief moment, surprised by hearing Mira self-blaming. "What... what? It wasn't your fault- whatever happened... it wasn't your fault..." Sven gripped Mira with his embracing hug again, with an even more emotionally warm element to it.

"You can tell me without fearing being blamed..." Sven tearfully reassured Mira. Mira was strong for him. Sven now needed to be strong for Mira. "You seemed to have been blamed for what happened... but you won't be blamed by me..."

Mira gulped, as she searched within herself the strength, before hesitantly nodding. "O- okay..." Mira trembled as she hugged Sven even tighter. She didn't want to let go. "F- for wh- what I'm a- about to e- explain t- to you... I w- wanna st- stay hugging to you..." Sven nodded and assured Mira that it was okay.

Mira trembled like the vibrations of an earthquake, as she began attempting to share her experiences. "B- back when I w- was living in K- Kursk in Russia- I... I- I came from a p- poor family, a- and... m- my parents turned t- to drug d- dealing t- to make money..."

Mira's voice began to feel heavy. Her eyes began to ache and sting from the sheer amount of tears they're letting out. Her throat began to feel swollen as it was difficult to speak about her pains. "I h- had to a- always inhale th- the stench of weed... and that w- wasn't the w- w- worst of it..."

Mira buried her face into Sven's chest, and hugged him tightly, as her cries delved into deeper tearful sorrows. "I- I can't sp- speak about it- it's t- too difficult... b- but I- I also w- want y- you t- t- to know..." Mira couldn't speak about what she endured. Her eyes, throat and chest hurt too much whenever she tried to speak about what she had to endure as a child. Her eyes ached too much, her throat felt too swollen, and her chest felt too heavy.

"P- pen... p- paper-" Mira stuttered. Speaking became too painful. Her mindscape was thrown right back into the past. She couldn't speak about her trauma, it was too painful to speak about it as she would be thrust back into the thick of her past.

Sven had post-it notes and a pencil in his pockets. He kept them on him at all times, as he discovered that it was a good way to communicate with Mira when she had brief moments of going 'mute'. Sven didn't say anything verbally as he gave the plastic notes and pencil. Sven never spoke verbally when Mira had 'mute moments'. He didn't speak, as a gesture to show Mira she wasn't alone in her suffering.

Sven pulled out a whole pack of post-it notes. They weren't those small cheap ones, they were big enough to be called sheets of paper in their own right. It was like comparing Pluto to the other planets. It was smaller than all of the planets, but it wasn't small enough to be classed as anything less. The post-it notes were like 'dwarf paper sheets', like how Pluto was a 'dwarf planet', but with both the post-it notes and Pluto still being gigantic in their own rights in their respective categories of size.

Mira placed several post-it notes to Sven's muscular hypertrophic chest. Knowing she was using his chest as a 'table' to write on, Sven laid himself across the sofa, while Mira, who was on top of him, wrote down her experiences. Tear drops falling from her chin after running down her cheeks, either landed on the notes and were absorbed, or they fell onto Sven, and rolled down the sides of his body.

With the pencil, Mira began writing a small paragraph for every post-it note each with her writing hand. With each post-it note, she struggled, but pushed through and managed to write every traumatic event she went through on the post-it notes. The hand she used to write, her right hand, vibrated like a mobile device would when receiving notifications. She struggled to relive those moments in her head as she wrote down those events, but her resolve and willingness, as well as how much she trusted Sven, she wanted to share her story. It was painful and difficult, but Mira wanted Sven to know, she was ready to tell him what she had been through. It took hours for Mira to write down her experiences, and those hours to her felt slow and excruciating, because with each part of her experience, she was living through that experience in her head again. She wasn't just living through them again, she was also feeling every single pain from them again.

Mira had finished writing, but for a few more minutes, she pretended to continue writing. She flipped the pencil onto its more round end, and pretended to continue writing. She was ready to share her trauma through the post-it notes. But she was feeling equally scared and petrified to share it with Sven, because of the environment she grew up in which made her strongly believe that it was her own fault, and she still believed to an extent what she could've done. Sven knew it wasn't her fault, but he didn't say anything, because one word could put Mira off from writing everything down on the post-it notes.

Each event Mira wrote down, she didn't just live through it again as she was writing it down on the post-it notes. She went through it again in her head, almost like a video tape in operation. Flashbacks and panic attacks came crashing down, which made it difficult for Mira to write. With her left hand, she grabbed Sven's right hand and held onto his hand with a vice-like grip, as she struggled to write with her right hand. Her face was washed with tears, but she didn't let that stop her from writing the events down. Mira was petrified to share her past, but her resolve to share it with Sven, the man she deeply trusted, was stronger, way stronger, even stronger than Mira herself knew.

Mira gulped as she hesitantly tossed the pencil onto the floor. With even greater hesitation, she pushed herself up, off of Sven, before retreating to the complete opposite side of the sofa she was sitting on with Sven. She pulled her hood over her head, so she could use all of her hair to cover and bury her tearful face.

For a brief moment, Mira felt some weight being lifted off of her by writing down her traumatic events. But the void that the lifted weight left behind, was very quickly filled with anxiety and fear. Her chest compacted even more. Her throat no longer just felt swollen but it began to excruciatingly hurt and ache. Her breathing became irregular, short-paced gasps. Her heart was exponentially beating to the point it felt like it was about to explode. Her adrenaline rose, which provided brief respite from this, but as soon as the adrenaline wasn't effective, all of what she was feeling became much worse by a dozen fold. Sven's story about what he did to Bobby and his two kids didn't help her headspace either, which raised her adrenaline again, which in turn, continued exponentially raising the other emotions she was feeling.

Sven sat back up, and started taking them off his chest one by one. He didn't read them as he was putting them in order, but he did catch some major words with his glance. Each post-it note he took off himself, he saw Mira's already trembling body jolt with panic and fear, she felt a mixture of intense fear and shame. She curled more and more into a ball to protect herself from what's around her outside.

Sven began reading the first set of sentences. Mira's handwriting was small, and while it was messy, it wasn't unreadable.

Post-it note #1:

"As well as being Russian, I'm also half Ukrainian. But my mum, where I got my Ukrainian heritage, believed in Russian nationalism. She viewed herself being ethnically Russian only, she believed Ukraine was always 'Russian'. My dad was an even more extreme nationalist. Every time I even mentioned anything about Ukraine, I was heavily scolded. One time, my dad was drunk and he began beating me with a portrait of Vladimir Putin. It didn't help that I naturally had a more Ukrainian accent, and I was belittled for something as small as that. So since then, I have had to force myself to sound 'more Russian'. So on top of what was going on in my home environment, I couldn't even acknowledge a part of who I was. On top of what was being done to me, I wasn't even allowed to have some sense of pride in who I was. All this time, I've been speaking to you with the Russian accent I was forced to adopt and learn. I was scared to tell you about my Ukrainian side of me, because I had to self-suppress that part of me, in fear of my parents' anger. I still carry that fear to this day, I've been scared to tell even you that I was half Ukrainian, because I feared being rejected for who I was, because of how I was treated for who I was as a child."

Sven's eyes swelled with pain as he read that post-it note. He trembled with sympathetic sorrowful feelings. He wanted to speak and give Mira words of comfort verbally, but he couldn't. He willingly and consciously stuck by his self-imposed rule of not speaking when Mira was struggling with 'mute moments'. Meanwhile, Sven picked up the second post-it note that Mira wrote, hoping there was some sense of hope or at least some improvement. He couldn't be anymore wrong. On this post-it note, there was two very heart-wrenchingly painful paragraphs.

Mira whimpered as she leaped off the sofa and ran upstairs as Sven began reading it. She didn't want to be in the same room as Sven while he was reading the next post-it note. Sven’s story also overwhelmed her in this way, but not nearly as much as post-it note #2.

Post-it note #2:

"I am also a victim of rape. I was raped not once, but twice. It happened once when I was ten, and again at fifteen. The first time it happened, I was so confused, scared, petrified and in extreme pain that left me limping for days. But the rape itself wasn't the worst part, far from it. It was what followed after the rape, that was the worst part of it. I was blamed for what happened to me. If you didn't know, in Russia, everyone believes victims of things like rape and sexual assault was always the fault of the victims, because of the 'tough Russian culture' or whatever, and that people who suffer pain either 'consented', or they didn't do enough to fight back and that it was 'their fault'. I slowly began to believe that my first rape genuinely was my fault, and I still question to this day what I could've done, the culture is still that ingrained into my brain. I was told it was normal, that it was my fault and I needed to suck it up. The only kind of ‘advice’ I was given was to deal with it, so it didn't happen again. So, that's what I've been trying to do ever since."

“It wasn't your fault Mira…” Sven sobbed sorrowfully as he read that. He would've provided support immediately if he had known this part about Mira's past earlier. He wished he did more to support Mira before this. His left hand was clenched with empathy for Mira, and with absolute hatred for the person who raped Mira. Sven was emotionally struck down, shocked, and in complete anguish to hear that happen to Mira as a child. A part of him didn't want to continue reading the post-it notes, but Mira used all her might, just to show him her struggles, and to make the might she struggled to exert be all in vain would be outright senseless. Sven then continued to read the

second paragraph, and there was a lot more writing in the second paragraph.

"So, I began taking the 'advice'. I started wearing multiple layers of clothes to feel safer as well as look bigger than what I actually was. I also taught myself how to box, because I was scared of going to a professional. I used to go and walk outside to escape home. But the rape made me very fearful of going outside, I only went outside when I really had to. But then I was caught self-teaching myself how to box. This was when I was fifteen. I was then forced to go to professional classes. For a brief moment, I was glad, because I met and made a 'friend'. He was much older than me, I think he was in his twenties, I don't know, but he was very tall and very big. I thought I finally had a friend, but I couldn't have been more wrong. One day, the 'friend' wanted to teach me boxing at his house. So, I went over to his house, and I very quickly regretted doing so. I remember the second rape much more vividly than the first one. The second one was worse, because I remembered more about the second one. I remembered it lasting for hours without end. It was so excruciating. I couldn't sit properly afterwards, I was in so much pain. I had nowhere to go either. I started lying to my parents about attending boxing lessons still, while in actuality, I was going back to self-teaching myself how to box. In my headspace, I was avoiding going out because I feared being raped again. When I started venturing out and attended things like those boxing lessons, what happened? I was raped again. The second rape reinforced my fear of going outside. I also couldn't open up to anyone as I had a strong feeling people would just turn around and go 'well I am a boxer and I could've defended myself, so obviously ‘I consented'. So, I believed the second one was also my fault, because that's what others in my home environment would've said. I couldn't tell my parents for obvious reasons. I had no friends to vent to. I only had one option I could take, which was to internalise it."

Sven hadn't cried like this since whatever the day was when he lost his parents. This part of Mira's past, Sven found extremely difficult to read. Eventually, he stopped crying, not because he stopped by choice, but because his eyes were now 'dry'. His eyes became very irritable to every touch from the air. His chest hurt deeply, he had so much empathy for Mira. He was also glad he finished reading that post-it note. He tossed it to the floor, he was that disturbed. If he was feeling that disturbed, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Mira must've felt when she went through all this.

Sven wiped his eyes with his left hand as he picked up the third post-it note with his right hand. It was still difficult for Sven to read, but it wasn't nearly as heavy.

Post-it note #3:

"The two rapes I thought were terrifying. But what was going on felt so constant, it almost felt worse than the rapes, and at times, it did felt worse. I don't know if that was because I was told the rapes were my fault or the ‘advice’ I was given to ‘deal with it', I don't know, all I remembered at the time was, other aspects of my life felt worse. I was always bullied for being taller than average compared to other girls. I was so isolated. Isolation eats away at you, and it gets worse and worse, and when you try to fight it, the isolation has already eaten so much of your will away, and it traps you in a chronic constant state of giving up the will to fight. The only way to fill the void where your will once was, is to fill it with fear. I was already a shy person even before the worst of my trauma, but the trauma made my shyness so much worse. This was also when I roughly began developing the speech impairment that I still have today. That is why I stutter so much."

Sven felt a punch in his stomach and gut as he read this paragraph, especially the last sentence. He saw that the unhealthy culture and ideals were so ingrained in Mira, she thought the sexual violations committed against her were ‘not as bad’. A lot of the ‘not so bad’ was evident that not only Mira was desensitised, she couldn't openly express her pain, due to her fear of judgement. The environment was that scarred into her. He would be crying much harder if it wasn't for his eyes being so dry and irritated by his cooled tears already. Then, he noticed he missed a short sentence at the bottom of the third post-it note.

"The bullying and the isolation felt worse. Then my bullies also found out I wasn't 'fully Russian', and it made me feel even more alienated. Now I was bullied for being half Ukrainian, and for my height. What was I doing wrong, what did I do? Why is having a bit of Ukrainian in me bad? Why, just WHY!? It was constant, it got to a point where I felt enduring home was better than enduring school. I dropped out and began to lie to my parents about me still attending school. I not only had zero willpower, not only was I denied to acknowledge the Ukrainian aspect of myself, not only was my dignity violated away, not only did I have no true friends, not only did I feel isolated, I couldn't even be authentic with what I said anymore, the last part of who I really was, an honest person, which I tried to maintain for so long, my honesty. As soon as I started lying, the last of whoever I was, was gone. I was killed without being killed."

Sven took a moment to take a break from reading the post-it notes to breathe. It was a lot to see how much Mira ranked her trauma, as she was made to believe things were ‘not as bad’ or ‘worse’, when all trauma was terrible and needed to be looked at.

Sven then flinched, as he didn't notice how shallow and short-paced his breathing was. He noticed, and all of a sudden, he felt this sudden feeling of weight lifted off his chest. It provided momentary relief from that heavy chest feeling, giving him strength to read more on the post-it note. He flipped it, as he noticed it had writing on the other side.

"I always feared my home in Russia. It always smelt of weed due to my parents also being drug addicts as well as drug dealers, and that was on a good day. On bad days, it'd stink of all sorts of drugs. But home eventually became a place of refuge at times I was meant to be at school or at boxing sessions, particularly the attic. But still, I always hid upstairs when the drug dealers that came to buy drugs from my parents. They always looked at me weirdly, and I saw in their eyes they'd do whatever to me if they was alone with me. That's also why I don't use my ovens at my home on the mountains outside the 'Red Sector' of the village. Even 'cooking smoke' triggered flashbacks of the smell of drugs."

That post-it note was also really difficult to read and immerse himself into Mira's shoes. He wanted to stop reading the post-it notes, but he continued, because this was Mira's way of opening up to Sven. She was strong for him, he must be strong for her, and so, he picked up the fourth post-it note.

Post-it note #4:

"At 16, my parents found out I dropped out of school as well as boxing lessons a year ago. I was shit scared, because I knew I was in for a severe beating. I barricaded my bedroom door as I was throwing out my bed mattress and pillows and blankets, then packed whatever I could into my pockets, my phone, charger and money, whatever I needed. I then jumped out the window and landed on the mattress. I was then on the run from home. I knew I was in for a really big beating if I was caught. I luckily still had stamina from the boxing as well as my adrenaline, plus my fear fueling me if my stamina or adrenaline failed. Eventually, either the outside world, my parents, or my own hands even, were going to kill me. I needed to run, I was scared for my life. But then I was then grabbed by two men, and I was dragged to a black car. I was screaming as I struggled to free myself. But I then heard a gunshot. One of the two men was hit in the head and died, and the other fled. An old man had an old pistol on him, he saved me. He offered to take me home, and I was very hesitant to go with him, but with no other choice, he offered the easiest way to escape my home in Kursk. It turned out that going with him was the best decision I had ever made up until that point. He was that veteran I would occasionally talk about with you, the Sergei guy I talked about sometimes. I haven't told you much about him, because as happy as he made me during my younger years, losing him was too painful for me to revisit. But I am ready to tell you a lot more about him."

For the first time reading these post-it notes, Sven was relieved. It installed some sense of hope. But he also knew at some point, Mira also met the First Curse. But when did that moment come? When did the ontologically perfect malevolent conceptual being come into the picture? Sven was originally happy, because at last, Mira seemed to find some fleeting moments of happiness, relief and respite. But he remembered Mira later on eventually met the First Curse. Sven eagerly, but cautiously, grabbed the fifth post-it note. It was a really big paragraph, but it was mostly heartwarming as well as heart-wrenching.

Post-it note #5:

"His name was Sergei Petrov, as I said. He also shared the same surname I did. Petrov is my surname by the way, I don't think I told you Sven. Anyway, Sergei was the kindest person I met, other than you of course Sven, you'll always be the kindest in my heart. But before I met you Sven, Sergei was the kindest person I met. He asked if I had a home, I replied yes, but also said I couldn't go back. He didn't question why, but he took me in as if I was his daughter. He told me that in the Second World War, he lost his daughter or at least he believed he lost her, and when serving in the Red Army, he said he suffered an injury to his groin area and both of his testicles were just gone, which left him unable to have more children. It didn't matter that I wasn't his blood, he still saw me as one of his children. For the first time in my life ever, I genuinely felt loved, something I longed so long for. Sergei shared with me many stories about what life was like when the Soviet Union was still a thing. He shared with me what Soviet culture was like, how everything was cheap, how people felt safer back then than in post-Soviet Russia. Whether the USSR was ‘safer’ I don't know myself and I still don't, but at the time for my 16 year old self, it sounded like the USSR was a safe place at least compared to everything I've been through at that point. I wanted to share my trauma with Sergei too, but he must've seen worse, and I was scared and worried about potentially him rejecting me for what my past was. While I was too scared to share my own trauma, knowing I made someone's last couple of years filled with happiness felt empowering. He also explained how he felt when the Soviet Union collapsed, and how deeply saddened he was when it collapsed. So, I not only listened to his stories, I tried to recreate a 'Soviet environment' in his home the best I could, by acting how people in the USSR did. For example, I did my very best to recreate a Soviet-like atmosphere in his home. It made him smile, and for the first time ever, it made me have a genuine smile too, and all of this was when I began heavily investing my time to personally study the history of the USSR, it provided me with some form of disassociation, and escape, so much so, during that time, I didn't even feel like I was Russian or Ukrainian, I felt like I was a 'Soviet'. Calling myself a 'Soviet' became some sort of way to disassociate myself from my previous trauma up until that point. Calling myself a Soviet provided me with some sort of escape at the time. My Russian and Ukrainian identity was associated with trauma, my Ukrainian half being the part of me I was forced to erase, and the Russian half being the part I was forced to exaggerate. But I had no traumatic history with a 'Soviet' identity, it felt fresh, like, a new start, a new me where I could be me. Although now I do have a genuine interest in Soviet history, back then though, it was something I could use to finally move on and be a new person with my new self-adopted 'Soviet' identity, or so I thought."

Sven couldn't help but smile at hearing about Sergei's input. Mira may have very well not been here today if it wasn't for whoever Sergei was. While Mira's disassociation wasn't healthy, it did seem during the years she lived with Sergei, she was happy. Sven then continued onto the next post-it note. It was a really big and emotionally charged paragraph.

Post-it note #6:

"I made Sergei's last two years the best years of his life. He felt at peace, I felt somewhat at peace, despite the flashbacks and panic attacks. He didn't become my dad, he WAS my dad, he loved me when my parents didn't. My parents weren't parents, Sergei was my true parent. He found peace in knowing he got to raise a girl even if he was only there for two years, while I found peace that I finally found the love I longed for that my blood-related parents never gave me. But it all went downhill a couple of years later. When I was 18, he was dying, he was 101 years old. I still remember our last conversation vividly. He told me to not be sad that he was going, but be happy that he was there. He then asked me why I cried on some nights. I would've felt much worse if I didn't tell him now, so I told him pretty much everything that happened to me. Sergei told me, word for word, “You should've told me sooner. I could've gone and shot every single damn one of those bastards.” I don't know what his overall thoughts were, I was in so much distress from explaining that, on top of losing him. As he was about to go, I held his hand, and we sang the Soviet Anthem together. He was smiling as he sang, but I was crying, as we sang the old 1944 version from the Stalin era. He passed away after we sang the last line of the anthem, Путь от победы к победе ведёт, 'pust ot pobedy k pobede vedyot' being how you pronounced it, which means 'may it lead from victory to victory' in English. Sergei died a few seconds after singing out the second 'victory' at the end of the line. The pain of losing someone I loved hurt much more than my trauma did. I was crying more than I ever did in my life, not even my trauma made me cry as much as I cried when I lost Sergei. Losing someone who loved you deeply when no one else did was so much worse. I dug out a grave in his garden for him. After I buried him, I put on his old Soviet army uniform and Soviet ushanka which I was able to find around his house. I then saluted, and sung the 1944's version of the Soviet Anthem again, for the last time, to pay my respects to Sergei. For the rest of that day, I couldn't leave him. Even at night time, I couldn't leave him. I just simply slept on top of his grave, hugging the gravestone which I also carved out and scratched his name onto. I couldn't leave the man who made me feel loved and important, I just couldn't leave Sergei. It was so uncomfortable and cold sleeping outside that night, especially as it was raining, but I couldn't leave him, I just couldn't. And my 'Soviet' identity I gave myself no longer provided me with the escape and disassociation it once did.”

Sven was again back into tears at reading that post-it note. He thought he ran out of tears, but Sergei's death and Mira's pain seeing him pass was very touching. Sergei had made a positive impact on Mira's life. But his death was so painful for Mira. Reading the emotional attachment she had for the man made Sven cry and weep. This person was also a parental figure for Mira, and Sven knew all too well what it was like to lose parental figures, like his own parents. He understood and got the pain Mira felt when she lost Sergei. Sven then grabbed the next post-it note. He gulped, because there is the first mention of curses.

Post-it note #7:

"Sergei was a sense of hope for me. His daughterly love and care for me made me feel somewhat safe. His loss was devastating for me, more devastating than any pain I experienced, it was really painful. I was petrified of my parents finding me, I was petrified of reliving my other traumas, I didn't feel safe anymore. Sergei was my safety, and he was now gone. This was one of my lowest points in life, I contemplated 'giving up' if you know what I mean. Then, a few days later, at night, I had a 'dream', I tried waking up to get out of it, I couldn't, and that's when I met him face to face, the being who was the opposite of the being who gave out blessings, the First Curse. He spoke to me through ‘whispers’ in the past, but this meeting was different, I don't know how to explain it, it just felt different. The First Curse offered me infinite power, power to regain control of my life, power to protect myself, and power to exact 'karma' upon everyone who hurt me. He only asked for my obedience, by lending him 'some control' of myself. I didn't care about the other parts of the deal, it was the 'power to protect myself' part that made me accept his deal. At first, it went great, it felt good having power for once, it felt great not being powerless. At the time, the curse didn't feel like a curse, it felt like a blessing, it really did. It didn't feel like the biggest mistake I ever made."

Sven gulped, because he knew this was the beginning of everything going wrong. He then went and grabbed the next post-it note to read. It got worse, much worse. Sven didn't want to read more, he was already struggling to fathom Mira's past, but he continued, because of his love for her, and his respect for the fact that writing all of this wasn't easy for Mira. This post-it note had a lot of writing on it.

Post-it note #8:

"The First Curse spoke to me through whispers in my head mostly and through visions. He said that I need to exact revenge upon the people who hurt me in order to take the first step to heal and unlock 'infinite power'. First, he showed me vision-based replays of my trauma, which at first made me spiral into a shivering tearful wreck, but overtime, during that period, I became numb to it, he was numbing my ability to feel emotions. But at the time, I felt immune, I felt a sense of power and invincibility, I felt powerful. I couldn't describe what I felt, it was so incomprehensible in scope of what I was feeling, the First Curse's power was that immense, I can't describe it fully, through verbal or written descriptions. The curse helped me learn how to speak English, but all of my conversations with the First Curse were still all in Russian. Next, as my parents denied me from doing so, I learned the Ukrainian language, and for a little while, I did feel some of my Ukrainian roots back. I was lured by the ‘gifts’ and I fell for them hard, and the First Curse continued to ‘gift’ me. Next, he told me to go after the people who raped me. With my newfound sense of power at the time, I did as I was told. First, he flat out told me where to find the first rapist who raped me. I would've had a massive panic attack, but I was numb to feeling emotions, I woefully believed my sense of power. At the time, like I said, he numbed all of my emotions, then installed in me a strong lust to regain control of my life, with whatever means necessary."

Sven took a moment to pause while wiping his eyes. He had very mixed emotions. He felt a mixture of being pleased as well as feeling discomfort. He was somewhat pleased that all the people who hurt Mira got some sort of karma. But his feeling of discomfort was much stronger in scope. He also knew this was all part of the First Curse's plan to have Mira under his thumb. The First Curse didn't care about anyone but himself. After taking the moment to pause, Sven continued reading.

"I then found the first person who raped me. The First Curse then told me I could manifest weapons and tools into my hand at will. He told me to think about any weapon, and the first thing that came to my mind was a sword. I then instantly saw a purple glowing sword in my right hand, it was so hot it hardened blood. Then, being charged by my lust for having control, I struck my first rapist down, and I trampled all over him, and I began stabbing him repeatedly. I felt a surge of satisfaction each time I stabbed him. I was the one crying when I was 10, but now at 18, eight years later, it was the first rapist that was crying. Then, I left him alone. I didn't want to kill him, because I wanted him to suffer, like he made me suffer."

Sven knew exactly where this was going. Mira was about to go on a cruel, merciless but very understandably vengeful rampage. Sven struggled to continue reading, because of his guilt when he exacted 'revenge' on Bobby. His feelings were a mix of relief and concern, relief that Mira gets some form of justice but at the same time was concerned at how far Mira would go. But nevertheless, Sven continued reading, to gain more insight to Mira's view at the time. He flipped the post-it note, as there was another big paragraph of writing.

"Then, the First Curse helped me hunt down the person who raped me when I was 15, but this time, he made me do some of the work. But still, the First Curse did most of the work. The second rape was still raw and fresh in my mind, it had only been three years ago when I was raped the second time. Like I did with the first rapist, I struck down the second rapist with my sword. The First Curse whispered to me I also had the ability to curse others, for as long as I was obedient to him that was. So, through his authority of power, I cursed the second rapist with an unstoppable disease that ate him from the inside out, sparing his brain and heart until last, making him suffer a slow and agonising death. I wanted him to suffer like this, because that was what I exactly felt when he raped me during those long hours that the second rape lasted. Then, he focused my vengeful eyes on my parents. The First Curse told me to do anything I wanted to them except killing them, but to curse them with bad luck once I was finished, and that he'd do the rest. So once I was done, I cursed them, then the First Curse used their induced bad luck to have my parents arrested and have them falsely accused of saying bad things about Vladimir Putin. I knew that political dissidents in Russia were beaten badly, so knowing my parents were being beaten up the same way they beaten me up was comforting. At the time, the power that surged through me felt so liberating, I felt a sense of healing, I felt invincible, I felt powerful. But little did I know that was the First Curse's whole plan, using me as a vessel to harm others, not just the people who hurt me, but literally everyone, including myself. He wasn't interested in healing me, he was interested in molding me into a puppet. But, I realised that far too late. I ended up hurting genuinely innocent people."

Sven trembled and felt cold as he read that. Many people would cheer any victim of trauma to exact revenge on the wrongdoers. But Sven knew this was going to go south very quickly. The First Curse was malevolently manipulating Mira to do his bidding. The last sentence of that paragraph especially, where Mira talked about how her path of vengeance was all part of the First Curse's plan to control her and that she was a puppet. That was the coldest sentence out of the entirety of post-it note #8. With great hesitance, Sven moved onto the next post-it note. It was a really large paragraph.

Post-it note #9:

"Everything went well so far, up until the First Curse told me to torment the old school I used to go to. I did so, but I only targeted the bullies that were still there, mainly those who hurt and wronged me. With me still being able to curse people at the time, I cursed them by giving them cognitive disabilities, ranging from extreme anxiety, all the way to losing the ability to remember or learn things. I only stopped when those who were innocent got caught in the crossfire because innocent people not understanding what and why I was doing it, stepped in to help. I was so full of rage and lust for revenge, I don't even know how many innocent people, I only know that I have. Then I targeted genuinely innocent people, because when they got in my way, I saw them as bad as the bullies who hurt me. But I was very quickly crushed with profound guilt, which was another feeling that I never knew until then, and I shortly left the building, I couldn't continue. Then, as I was leaving the school, time froze, it literally froze. Then, I saw the First Curse physically in person, instead of him just being in my head. His presence felt so cold, his mere physical presence evoked emotions that were worse than all of my traumas and pains combined times by ten. His presence alone traumatised me, he was that terrifying and awful in that form. He then told me he wanted me to burn the whole school, with everyone in it, even those that were innocent. I still had some sense of empathy for others, because Sergei was still fresh in my mind. His kindness proved to me that there was the odd good person out there, and there were innocent people in that school, some of whom I hurt which also contributed to the guilt I felt when I tormented people at the school. This was when I realised I was slowly being manipulated to become a tool of destruction for the First Curse to use. I was crushed by my guilt and traumas, I couldn't continue hurting innocent people. So I refused to follow through with that order, and from there, my partnership with the First Curse started to deteriorate. With my previous acts of vengeance, the First Curse protected me from being caught by the Russian authorities by making something go wrong for reasons, whether it was a logical or even an illogical reason. He had the power to rewrite literal existence from top to bottom on a whim. He viewed my life as if it was a mere ‘narrative’ as he called them, and above my ‘narrative’ was an endless set of these… narratives… and that endless set of narratives was within another endless set of narratives, so on, all with no understandable beginning, end, top or bottom in any of the separate ‘sets’... and all of them in some confusing hierarchy of superiority or whatnot in quality and so on. I have no idea what narratives mean cosmologically, only that narratives and anti-narrative worked differently, I don't know, it's too confusing. That is the scary thing, because the First Curse is above all these confusing possible and impossible narratives and these ‘anti-narratives’ and could rewrite all of those endless sets within endless sets of narratives with the mere tips of his fingers, and what's even more terrifying, is that isn't even a fraction of what he could truly do with his power. His power at the time wasn't scary, as at first, he protected me, because I was obedient to every command he gave. But with that last order, I flat-out refused, and all of a sudden, that power became so frightening. So, the first thing the First Curse did, was make me face the authorities. At the time, I was also one of the most wanted females in Russia, because of my seemingly apparent ability to stay a step ahead of the authorities and my capacity to inflict harm. When the authorities arrived to my location, Sergei's house, which I was living in since the day he died by the way. Anyway, it wasn't the police who came after me to deal with me. It was the Spetsnaz special forces that came after me, and they weren't there to deal with me, they were there to kill me."

Sven was now truly out of tears. Sergei's death in the previous post-it notes forced out any remaining ability Sven had to shed tears for the time being. He felt empathy, for both Mira and even the Spetnaz. He felt way more empathetic for Mira. But he also felt a tiny bit of empathy for the Spetnaz too. He knew that by Mira still being alive today, he knew what the outcome was when Mira went up against the Spetnaz. There was a mix of empathy, concern, and a small but very sick sense of awe. With even greater hesitance than before, Sven moved onto the next post-it note.

Post-it note #10:

"I couldn't curse any of the Spetsnaz sent after me. That ability isn't a part of the seven abilities that come with my curse. That ability came from my obedience to the First Curse. But, I still had the curse that was in me, and I was still able to tap into my seven abilities from it. As the Spetsnaz opened fire on me, I was expecting to be hit, but I noticed I wasn't. The bullets were like, I don't know, going at a crawling pace? But the bullets were coming to me slowly from my perspective, so slowly, I was dodging them easily. Then on impulse, with my sword, I deflected each of the bullets, and that raised my adrenaline. I then simply walked up to the Spetsnaz soldiers and sliced them to pieces with the sword, without them even getting a chance to react or respond. They didn't even fire another round. They didn't even move or flinch. I took them down slowly, one by one, and there were about twenty of them. All the way to the twentieth Spetnaz unit I had slain, none of them even moved or opened another barrage of fire."

Sven covered his eyes with his hands, and slid them down his face. He took a few minutes to have a break from reading the post-it notes. As he was about to go for the 11th post-it note, he felt a nudge on his knee. It was Buddy the therapy dig, who came back downstairs holding a folded sheet of paper with his teeth. He dropped a sheet of paper on Sven's lap. Sven picked it up, and unfolded it. It had writing on it, it was Mira's writing.

"I'm so sorry I ran off upstairs like that. It was so difficult to write all of those experiences. I am also sorry for interrupting your venting by dumping my stuff on you before you finished, it sounded like you had more to say. I was really struggling, I couldn't verbally communicate my past. The post-it notes and written communication helps, but even then, it was really difficult. I am so sorry I ran off upstairs like that, I needed to separate myself from the post-it notes."

Sven, with the pencil he grabbed off the floor, began writing underneath what Mira wrote on the sheet of paper.

"You don't need to be sorry. You also didn't interrupt me, because I paused. I wanted to let you have your turn to speak. I wanted to create an environment so you felt safe to open up to me. And please don't think any of that was your fault, because it isn't. I am really sorry to hear you went through that. Just know all of that wasn't your fault.”

Sven then wrote underneath his response, a question.

"Do you want to continue talking by doing this, me come upstairs, you come downstairs? What method of communication is most comfortable for you right now?"

After Sven finished writing the question, he folded the sheet of paper, then gave it to Buddy. The dog opened his mouth, grabbed the folded piece of paper with his teeth, then jogged back upstairs, so Mira could read Sven's written response. Then, a few minutes later, Buddy came back down, holding a folded sheet of paper with his teeth, which Sven took the folded sheet paper out, and began unfolding it. There were two separate, but equally emotional paragraphs.

"Writing it out feels more comfortable for me right now. It is too difficult for me to verbally share it, it hurts to. Even writing it out hurt me a lot. I was always told stuff like this was my fault. I was always told to hide my pain like a true Russian, but what is a true Russian? I was forced to exaggerate my Russian half of my blood and pretend my Ukrainian half didn't exist for so long, I don't know who I am anymore."

"I never shared any of this with you, Recon, Rose or anyone before, because of how much I was taught to hide everything. I was taught that anything bad happening to me was my fault and didn't do enough, or that I allowed it. I was also scared to share all of this, because I feared rejection and judgement. I feared rejection for being half Ukrainian like I was back in Russia. I feared judgement, because of the judgement I received, not just for my identity or height, but because of the other things as well."

Sven then noticed something at the bottom of the second paragraph. Mira had a question of her own. The question was also a paragraph.

"You're the first person in my life to say all of what I've been through wasn't my fault. But I grew up thinking it was, Russian society told me it was, my parents told me it was, which made myself think it was. I don't know if it was my fault or not. Do you really mean it when you said it wasn't my fault? You're the first person to say it wasn't, and it's fresh air, but I don't know any more. I had many identities I tried creating for myself to disassociate from my situation, and now, I don't know who I truly am anymore. I know nothing about myself or anything to do with me anymore.”

Sven took a moment to think about what he had to say. Sven knew Mira wasn't at fault, but he didn't know how to reassure her. Mira was torn by what her parents brainwashed her to think, how Russian society shunned her, and how much psychological damage the First Curse did to her. Sven knew reassuring Mira it wasn't her fault through written exchanges and making his reassurances feel and sound genuine, would be extremely difficult.

He began writing his response to Mira's question.

"No, it wasn't your fault Mira. You weren't at fault for anything that happened to you. Nobody should've subjected you to endure any of what you described. Please believe me when I repeat this, it wasn't your fault, Mira, it wasn't your fault. You're a beautiful person Mira. Please tell me how I can help you. I am here for you, please don't fear judgement or rejection, because I love you for who you are. It broke me hearing about this and seeing you this hurt. Please, I really mean it, I really want to help you heal."

Sven finished writing his response. He then folded the sheet of paper, then gave it to Buddy. Buddy grabbed it with his teeth, then jogged back up the stairs. Then, less than a minute later, Buddy came back downstairs with the same sheet of paper. Sven didn't need to unfold it. He flipped it to the side that had Mira's response.

Sven finished writing his response. He then folded the sheet of paper, then gave it to Buddy. Buddy grabbed it with his teeth, then jogged back up the stairs. Then, less than a minute later, Buddy came back downstairs with the same sheet of paper. Sven didn't need to unfold it. He flipped it to the side that had Mira's response.

"Please come upstairs to me. I need to speak in person. There's a few things I want to speak about that I feel more comfortable talking about verbally."

Sven then put the folded sheet of paper to his side. He then pushed himself off the sofa, and stretched his arms and legs. Then, he began making his slow walk upstairs, followed by Buddy. The first thing he was going to do when he walked into his bedroom was give Mira the warmest hug he could give her.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Mira was on the bed, hugging onto a pillow. She soaked the end facing up with tears. He was rocking herself back and forth. It took all her inner strength to write down all her experiences. The sheer weight of what she held inside herself for so long being lifted off of her made her feel so light, this feeling felt worse. She didn't even know if it felt good or if she should regret it, her story was now known to someone that isn't her. Somebody else now knows her weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

Mira jolted when she heard the door, immediately looking in that direction. Sven walked in, and Mira’s posture became more relaxed.

“Hey…” Sven whispered with a soothing voice. He didn't know how to verbally speak whilst being delicate. He loved and cared about her, but he understood this was a very sensitive topic.

“H- hi…” Mira stammered as she hugged the pillow tight.

“Is it okay if I sit next to you, or do you want me to stand here?” Sven delicately asked.

“F- for the m- m- moment… s- stay there…” Mira trembled and gulped, thinking of what she wanted to say and how to say it. “W- w- where you s- said you b- b- bullied Bobby’s k- kids for who they w- were, B- Bobby's k- kids… it r- r- really t- triggered me…” Mira hesitantly stated, gulping as she spoke about it, and hid her face behind the pillow as her body trembled more. “B- b- because, as y- you know… I- I was b- bullied f- for who I w- was… d- different reasons, a- and I sympathised w- with y- y- you a- a lot don't g- get me wrong, but me b- being honest… I sympathised w- with B- B- Bobby’s k- kids more… a- and I was s- scared to say that e- earlier…” Mira was trembling mods the more she used even more of her depleted energy to continue challenging Sven’s life choices. “That is a- another r- reason why I- I- I ran u- upstairs… and when y- you s- said about B- Bobby being k- killed w- w- without being k- killed… that w- was e- exactly word f- for word h- how I- I- I felt… a- and it r- really t- triggered me...”

Sven sat down on the floor, on the spot he was standing. He looked down with even more guilt and regret. “I see.”

“Look at me…” Mira demanded. Her tone was quiet, but also forceful in a different way. Sven looked up, his eyes looking at Mira’s hurting eyes. The look in her eyes was very different. Her eyes were hurt, as well as they were serious.

Mira gulped as she tried to say what she wanted to bring up next. “If I was one of Bobby's children… and you knew that when we first met… how would you have treated me then… would you have tried to take it out on me too… for being who I am?” Mira cringed further and circled more around the pillow she was hugging, burying her face deeper into it. She was really scared of what the response would be.

Sven was stunned by the challenge to his moral compass. He had no good response to the question. It wasn't a question demanding an answer in the traditional sense. It was a question that demanded Sven’s current colours as the answer.

“I'm sorry I upset you, I really am.” Sven spoke with guilt in his tone. He had no justification for himself. Mira struck Sven really deep with this question. There was no justifiable excuse for what he did to Bobby, and he deep down always knew. But he was running away from it for so long with so much hatred, it ate away at his inner self. His moral compass was stained so much by his chronic resentment and bitterness. That question shook his foundations.

“If you’re scared of me and you no longer feel comfortable being around me, I understand. If you don't want to talk to me ever again, I also understand.” Sven understood how much it hurt Mira when he told her that he was a former bully, and especially what he did following that. “If you want me to even go as far as moving out of the village cluster to make you feel safe again, I will do that for you. I really, really love you… and if I scare you… the most loving thing I can do for you… is to go as far away as I can so you're never scared of me again.”

Mira was really heartfelt by Sven’s response. “I w- would've left your h- house long a- ago if I w- wasn't comfortable around y- you.” Mira stammered. She saw Sven truly and genuinely regretted what he did in the past. She saw that he was a different person back then. Mira saw and understood Sven’s guilt was raw as it was real and true.

“I- I am still o- offended and h- hurt… from hearing that y- you bullied Bobby's k- kids and e- especially what you did next… betraying a- a friend of yours by t- taking their parents’ gun a- and doing w- what you did to Bobby… I- I strongly c- condemn you f- f- for that…” Mira confessed and openly admitted what she truly felt. She took a moment to pause, so what she said had time to sink into Sven.

“B- but I also s- see that y- you are n- not that person a- anymore… and I- I don't know or s- see y- you as the m- m- monster you w- were back then…” Mira continued on what she wanted to say to Sven. Unlike earlier, she wasn't being soft or afraid with what she was saying. But she wasn't saying it from a place of hate, but more so from a place of deep love.

“I know y- you as m- my shield… my d- doctor… my protector… my boyfriend… my lover… that is w- who I- I know you as.” Mira, amidst her deeply complex pain, a really strained and faint, but warm and comforting smile manifested. She extended and opened her arms. “And I- I wouldn't change a- any of that for s- someone else.”

Sven, overwhelmed, leaped off of the floor and hurried over to Mira, sitting down next to her. She gently climbed onto his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling each other close. They shared a kiss as their bodies pressed together, then rested their chins on each other’s right shoulders. Meanwhile, Buddy left the room. He understood and knew this was a time between Sven and Mira, and them only.

The room was quiet. The only noise was each other’s breathing and beating hearts. The hug was really warm, filled with affection, and lasted for several minutes. Both of them were clung to one another in a sweet embrace.

“Is there anything else you feel comfortable sharing?” Sven sincerely asked, pulling his head back, as did Mira. “You also don't have to worry about your accent. I won't reject you, I promise you that. Do what you want to and do what feels most comfortable.” Sven reassured Mira. He wanted her to know she can be comfortable the way she is around him.

“O- okay…” Mira gulped. She spoke with the Russian accent she was forced to speak with for so long it felt natural, rooted in her fear. She trembled as she tried to speak with her truly natural accent.

“H- h- hey Sven…” Mira bravely spoke with her natural Ukrainian accent. It felt so uncomfortable, it didn't feel natural. She was forced by her parents’ extremism to erase everything about her that was Ukrainian to such an extent, an old mental scar reopened, playing flashbacks when her parents got mad when she spoke in her natural accent. But that scar was quickly healed and closed for good when Sven responded positively to her true accent.

“Wow… that's cool.” Sven complimented. He was surprised, but quickly gave a compliment to encourage Mira so she was more comfortable. The difference in her accent was surprising. Her natural Ukrainian accent sounded way less monotone and more melodic. The pronunciation of the vowels was clearer and much softer. Her natural Ukrainian accent, obviously, sounded way more natural on all levels, and not anywhere near as forced as did the Russian accent she was forced to adopt.

“Y- you like my n- natural accent?” Mira questioned, again using her natural accent. She got emotional, the positive kind of emotional. Sven also noticed Mira didn't stutter as much with her natural accent.

“It’s beautiful… I'm so sorry you had to hide that for so long. Your voice is beautiful.” Sven again supportively reassured Mira, who started weeping, followed by the wiping of her eyes. The stark difference of the accents struck Sven even deeper emotionally. Mira’s cheeks blushed, albeit, the blushing was brief or faint, she felt some sense of who we was being reclaimed, not a lot, but it was nice.

“W- which… p- post-it n- note was y- you u- up to?” Mira stuttered as she fought her speech impairment. Her accent slipped and fluctuated between her natural and forced accents as she was trying to be more comfortable speaking in her natural accent.

“I got to the bit where you took out the Spetsnaz soldiers.” Sven realised he said it too bluntly. “I didn't mean to say it like that, I was meant to say it in a way that it didn't trigger you.” Sven very quickly apologised. “I can go back to reading the post-it notes if you want me to. You were more comfortable with that, right?” Said Sven.

“I… I w- want to t- t- tell you the r- rest… v- verbally, or a- at least I w- want to t- try to…” Mira said as she took a deep breath. She wanted to get it all off her chest, verbally. She remembered all her conversations with the First Curse in perfect detail, because of her curse. It was something she could never push to the back of her head.

--------------------------------------------------------------

In Russia, mid 2021, afternoon (Just pretend all speaking is done in Russian)…

It was a completely one-sided engagement. Mira slayed all of the Spetsnaz soldiers sent after her. The blade of the sword she held was so hot, it either hardened of evaporated the blood as she sliced their bodies to pieces in a way that no blood was splattered everywhere.

“N- n- n- no! W- what have I- I- I d- done!?” Mira threw her sword to the side and pulled at her hair, pulling herself to the ground. That only exacerbated more flashbacks, especially flashbacks from when she was grabbed by the hair and pinned to the floor when she was 15. She screamed and whimpered, curling into a ball. “M- make th- this s- st- stop!” She cried, and her cries were loud, but ignored.

Meanwhile, the First Curse in the background looked at Mira with contempt. As he manifested himself physically again, everything around him and Mira froze. Mira's gaze was fixed upon the First Curse, with rage and anger as well as a huge sense of fear.

“You are so close to achieving infinite power. Isn't that what you want? Power and invincibility, so you are never hurt again?” The First Curse twisted and swayed his manipulative words and forced them on the narrative Mira exists on.

“I w- wanted t- to be SAFE! N- never t- to hurt th- those I h- have n- never m- met- THESE SOLDIERS DONE NOTHING TO ME OTHER THAN WHAT YOU MANIPULATED THEM TO DO! YOU USED ME!” Mira screamed, and lashed out violently, lunging forward at the First Curse with a punch. As her fist came close, before she even made contact, she was repelled and flown back, and smacked into a nearby tree “AGH- ow…” Mira fell back down to the ground, getting winded as she landed on her chest. “Agh- ow ow… ow…”

“Don't be so foolish Mira!” The First Curse scoffed. “You cannot harm me. Even Sabre knew that.” He took a few steps towards Mira, who was lying limp on the ground in pain. Mira fearfully looked back at the First Curse’s glowing cold violet eyes.

“No matter what idea you have as to who or what I am, your idea and whatever descriptions you apply to me will never match and suffice.” The First Curse retorted, as more of his true malevolent colours showed.

“You can't even begin to comprehend my being. You see existence as you see it. I see existence as a mere fish bowl. You're the fish, and the water is existence, and the air in the bowl is nothing’s nullity.” The First Curse began ego boosting himself. “Beyond the bowl is what you can't can't comprehend. I am from beyond the bowl your narrative is in. Who you see and comprehend this form of me as isn't even the tip of my fingers. I am beyond the very idea of total existence and total nothingness as a whole.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Back to the present, in the Overworld, 2025…

“I- I c- continued t- t- to r- resist h- his orders, a- and the F- First C- Curse j- j- just said ‘have it your way then’ t- to me a- and l- left…” Mira stammered and stuttered, fighting from within, her voice fluctuating between her natural Ukrainian and her forced Russian accents, wiping her eyes.

“Then the c- curse… a- a- actually b- began to f- feel like an a- actual c- curse… the c- curse w- was so m- much w- worse than a- anything else…” Mira trembled even more. “I- I tried l- leaving Russia w- when I was n- nighteen, b- but then the R- Russian a- army invaded Ukraine i- in F- Fe- February in t- t- t two thousand a- a- and twenty two… s- sanctions a- and travel r- restrictions prevented m- me from l- leaving… a- and…” Mira gulped in an attempt to relieve the pain in her throat, but it only exacerbated the pain, making her head jolt.

“I- I not o- only felt m- more t- trapped… I… I began t- to g- genuinely h- hate m- myself…  e- especially w- when I- I had n- no access t- to n- n- news outside of R- Russia, and o- on- only knew w- whatever Putin revealed a- and that the w- west hated u- us… s- so n- not only R- Russia h- hated my Ukrainian h- half… I- I- I then g- genuinely thought the West h- hated Russia- Russia h- hated me f- for being h- half Ukrainian and the W- West would a- a- apparently h- hate me f- for being h- half R- Russian…” Mira gulped, out of fear and attempting to hold back her tears, which got more and more difficult.

“I was s- so crushed b- by e- external and m- my own internal h- hatred of m- m- myself… w- which only exacerbated when I- I m- managed t- to access western in- internet a- and asked f- f- for help a- and then g- got verbally a- abused by s- someone o- online f- for being R- Russian w- when I was t- trying to s- seek help t- to escape… I- I was c- called a- a… ‘Nazi bitch’… w- which really h- hurt m- me… because it a- almost h- hurt m- my ability t- to remember Sergei a- as h- he fought Nazis… a- and me b- being c- called a- a Nazi… it r- r- really h- hurt…” Mira scrunched her eyelids shut, doing something else to hold her tears back, as other methods of holding them back made her chest feel extremely heavy and tight, and her throat painfully swollen.

“I- I began r- really h- hating m- myself r- right then e- especially after c- called that… I w- was n- not just h- hated for b- being part Ukrainian… I e- experienced h- hate f- for me b- being part R- Russian as w- well… I f- felt h- hated e- everywhere…” Mira paused, as her tears got more difficult to hold back. But she didn't pause for too long, she was scared to continue crying, especially after crying earlier as the more she did the more she heard her abusive parents screams and felt the beatings from them. “This w- was when I- I began t- to contemplate c- committing s- suicide…”

“Whether you're Russian, Ukrainian, or whatever, nobody should ever hate you. And you're Mira Petrov… not Vladimir Putin. And you're especially not a Nazi just because you're Russian.” Sven delicately responded, then began to think what else to delicately say. He gently planted his right hand on Mira’s right shoulder, only her eyes moved, looking back at Sven.

“Everybody should only judge people for their actions alone, not what they look like or where they are from.” He added. “And you weren't those soldiers who invaded Ukraine. You were an innocent citizen who was so hurt and manipulated, you only wanted safety… you were acting with what you had access to, which wasn't a lot. You shouldn't hate yourself or hold yourself accountable for what happened to you or what others are doing to others.” Sven finished with a very lovingly gentle reassurance. He couldn't think of anything to say that could ease Mira’s now-revealed self-hatred of who she was.

“B- but h- how was I- I meant to l- like how I was w- when I w- was forced t- to hide one h- half of n- myself, and th- then b- began t- to feel h- hatred f- for my o- other half b- because of the g- geopolitical e- e- ev- events? Mira’s eyes swelled with the exacerbating build-up of tears with each word and even each syllable she verbalised.

“And m- my curse… it g- got s- so bad o- over two thousand a- and twenty t- two into t- twenty th- three… it m- made me want t- to commit s- suicide… and I- I attempted to k- kill m- myself b- by overdose late tw- twenty three…” Mira's eyes gazed down, expecting a response, a negative one.

“I- I was th- then saved a- and then b- blessed by the F- First Blessing, b- but it d- didn't” s- stop the c- curse completely… the c- curse w- was so much worse than e- everything e- else… th- the blessing a- and l- leaving E- Earth behind and b- being in th- this ‘Overworld h- helped a- a lot… b- but n- not c- completely… I sh- should b- be happy I- I'm n- no longer in R- Russia o- or even E- Earth… b- but I'm n- not… I- I should b- be h- happy and h- healed a- and n- not this b- broken w- woman that I- I- I still a- am…” Mira's heart was very heavy with pain. She felt a bit of pain go away being able to express her pain at long last, but everything else was so heavy and raw.

“It doesn't mean your pains are any less valid… it's okay to ask for help, help to face all of them. I also noticed you rank your trauma in severity. Don't, it's all severe and needs looking at.” Sven gently reassured Mira. “Even if you waited until you were seventy and only revealed your trauma then, your pain and well-being matters. You still matter, especially to me.”

Mira glanced away. “B- but I've a- always b- been told it w- w- was m- my fault… the b- b- bullying, the b- beatings, the r… the…” Mira quietly stammered, quivering and curling as she thought about that dreaded R word. “W- what could I- I have done to a- avoid it?”

Sven pulled Mira close to him again and hugged her firmly. He cried. “It wasn't your fault… and if society says it is… well, to be quite frank, fuck society.” Sven rubbed and patted Mira on the back while also keeping her in his embracing hug, then gently grabbed and stroked her ears. “You didn't ask for any of that to happen. You didn't deserve any of that to happen to you. I don't know how I can convince you it wasn't. But you weren't at fault Mira.” Sven wiped his eyes. Mira was powerless and helpless. But saying she was powerless and helpless, will not help her feel better, or even worse.

“If you still think it was your fault… at least know that I believe it wasn't your fault, and that you are safe to express yourself to me.” Sven didn't know how to convince Mira it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault, he knew that for a fact. But it was going to take a long time to undo all of the messages that her parents, as well as the societal norms in Russia, that conditioned Mira to believe and think this way.

“I… I d- don't know…” Mira's throat swelled and her tone got heavier. She wept, relaxed her chest on Sven’s, and rested her chin on Sven’s right shoulder. “B- but… thank y- you… th- thank y- you f- for l- listening t- to me… b- being a- able to ex- express it o- openly… it’s…” Mira took a deep breath, struggling to process the feeling of all that weight being lifted off of her in express her pains. She didn't know what she faced was her fault or not, or whether it was relieving or not, it just felt… weird, a nice kind of weird.

“I- I was t- t- told it w- was a- all my f- f- fault and t- to just d- deal with it… a- and e- ever since… that's w- what I- I tried t- to do…” Different parts of Mira’s body began easing as well as tensing up in a loop. “I- I thought p- playing ch- chess by m- myself w- would c- cure m- my t- trauma… I- I thought m- many things w- would… b- but nothing w- works…”

Sven began gently patting Mira’s back. He hesitated to respond to that. Trauma will never go away, for him or her. “I can try and suggest different coping mechanisms that may work better for you.” Sven very carefully and delicately crafted his response. Saying trauma will never go away with the state of mind Mira was in may exacerbate her emotions rather than ease them. “But you aren't at fault, and you never were.” Sven continued whispering and reassuring her. He began to gently rock her, wrapping his arms around as much as he could. “You’re no longer alone in this. You're safe with me.”

Mira nodded, which Sven felt on his shoulders. “I- I w- was scared of w- what y- you'd think of m- me a- after I sh- shared all of that…” The harmful narratives that had shaped Mira into who she was now were very slowly, but very surely, being undone. “It w- was also w- why I w- was hesitant t- t- to teach y- you b- boxing at f- first… it m- meant g- g- going b- back to the p- past…”

Opening up to him about this was really difficult for her, and the more she spoke, the more her chest retracted. “I… I've d- dissociated for s- so l- long… m- my o- old self if s- such thing e- ever e- existed d- died a- ages ago… I- I don't e- even know who I- I am… who I- I w- was… I- I don't know…”

“Uh… you could teach me Ukrainian. Helping you feel in touch with your Ukrainian side could help with your healing… maybe?” Sven thoughtfully suggested. “I don't know… anything to help you…” Sven with both hands, delicately held one of Mira’s hands.

“I- I uh…” Mira hesitated, stammering as she tried to respond. “I- I'll think a- about it… I- I know y- you won't hurt m- me, b- but it's s- still r- really difficult t- to show m- my Ukrainian half… e- even s- speaking w- with my natural accent a- again… I… I not o- only h- hear, b- but f- feel m- my p- p- parents b- beating me- it h- hurts…”

“I understand.” Sven empathetically nodded. “It's just… being so fearful of showing who you are… it hits hard.” He added. “I want to help you find yourself again.”

“What w- w- will help m- me f- for now… is y- you just b- being there t- to listen t- to me…” Mira stuttered. “J- just having s- someone listen t- to my pain… e- even if it w- was my fault… y- you listening m- means more than y- you w- w- will e- ever know…”

“It isn't your fault… okay…” Sven's voice grew weak in sorrow. It hurt to hear Mira blaming herself. It struck him like a punch to the gut. It hurt him seeing her suffering in this much pain. It hurt him more by merely thinking about how much she was suffering in silence when she was alone.

“You don't have to suffer alone now… you're not alone in this…” He whispered with a soothing tone, reassuring Mira, gently lifting her chin up, and closed his eyes as he gently rested his forehead on Mira’s forehead. Mira was trying to hold back her tears, a part of her was still scared to cry, she still felt like her parents were looking at her. But she couldn't stop all of them, she was so overwhelmed by Sven’s abundant love and empathy.

“I'm there for you… you don't need to fear being hurt… I'll never hurt you… I promise… you'll never get hurt like that again…” Sven’s eyes wept, his chest felt compacted, and his throat felt more swollen and achy the more he whispered in so much sorrow. “Even if protecting you one day costs my life…” His hug around Mira became tighter, whose eyes began swelling.

“Nothing was your fault… and you don't have to suffer alone… it's okay, I'm here, I won't let anything hurt you…” Sven pulled his head back, then began gently rubbing Mira on her back with one hand, and softly petting her head with his other hand, as well as running his fingers through her hair here and there. Mira was barely holding back. Sven’s loving words felt so validating, it was overwhelming. “I'm there for you to cry to… it's okay to cry…” Sven continued whispering.

Overwhelmed by the love and empathy, Mira’s eyes thunderously released her tears, and her lungs let out all the air in them in her howling cries. She buried her face into Sven’s chest, and Sven leaned his head over, and gently rested his chin on her head.

“There- there… it's okay- it's okay…” Sven rubbed Mira’s back as both of them hugged. Mira’s cries filled the otherwise silent room. Sven gently kissed her on the top of her head, then began rubbing his right cheek over Mira’s head. He wanted to make sure Mira felt safe to cry, and felt safe in general.

“Th- that- tha- ank y- y- y- yo- ou…” Mira’s words were broken by her really heavy, suffocating cries. Her chest was compacted as far as it could go. Her stomach was pushed as far back as it could go. The ear-destroying cries were that suffocating, she was that overwhelmed. She was petrified to let go of Sven. He was her safety, her refuge. He was a blanket, and in the past, she had no blanket. He was a pillow, and in the past, she had no pillow. He loved her dearly, and in the past,she was never shown any love or kindness.

“C- can y- you look o- over m- m- me t- tonight p- please? I'm r- really tired…” Mira began murmuring, her eyes were slowly shutting, but then instantly opening in order to stay awake.

“You didn't get good night sleep last?” Sven asked.

Mira shook her head. “No…” She then looked away. “I- I didn't s- sleep a- at all…”

“But you uh, do get sleep regularly… normally… right?” Sven questioned. He was concerned, and his concerns were exacerbated when Mira shook her head.

“I- I always t- try to avoid sleep if I- I can… I h- have many s- sleeping disorders l- like insomnia a- and sleep apnea… which I deliberately developed and try maintaining…’ Mira shared with Sven. This was something she didn't want to share, but she was too tired to notice what she was saying. “

“What do you do to avoid sleeping and maintaining the inability to dream?” Sven asked in a sad and soft tone. He was very concerned for her health, both her physical and mental health. He saw while Mira was in this tired state, he could get answers, and they were exactly what he needed. With more answers, the better understanding he has in helping her.

“I- I drink f- fizzy drinks b- before bed… a- and I… I- I often sleep o- on the f- floor a- and while s- still in m- my r- regular clothes…” Mira yawned, too exhausted to shed more tears, but the heavy emotional weight getting heavier and her chest compacting more. “A- and I o- only sleep sixteen hours a- a week… three d- days a week w- with no sleep- I was d- desperate to d- destroy m- my ability t- to sleep… it was the o- only way t- to stop m- my nightmares… tiredness w- was a s- small price t- to pay…”

This type of exhaustion mirrored the other times Sven saw Mira exhausted like this. It all made sense, but in a very bad way. He now knew why Mira was often very exhausted, and why she was avoiding sleep. This ‘sleeping’ cycle, if it can even be called that, was going on for at least longer than a year. Mira hadn't had good sleep in over a year or longer. It also explained why she started getting more and more exhausted lately. This cycle was killing Mira.

“You're safe to sleep tonight, okay. I'll stay up and ward off bad people if they come okay.” Sven whispered. Mira barely nodded as she fell to sleep. Sven noticed in Mira’s eyelids that she had to force her tearful eyes to shut. Mira had completely destroyed her ability to sleep properly.

Mira rolled and groaned as she tried to get comfortable. Eventually, she did get comfortable, and sobbed as she struggled into a fractured state of sleep. Even when she was in a state of sleep, she was violently wriggling about, before very quickly getting out of bed. Before Sven could catch her, Mira fell to the ground, and rolled about, before curling up into a ball, then again entered that fractured state of sleep.

Sven felt his chest and his lungs ripped out. He was ‘paralysed’ in deciding on what to do. Sven didn't want Mira to sleep on the floor, but at the same time, albeit definitely not in the most ideal conditions, she was sleeping.

Buddy barked as he jogged into the room. He laid down next to her. He nuzzled his muzzle forward, until his head was under her arms. Sven got off the bed and pulled off the pillow and blanket. He first nudged Mira with the pillow, and she grabbed it, immediately hugging it. Sven then wrapped the blanket around himself as he crossed his legs and sat on the floor. He pulled Mira and the pillow into the embrace of him and the blanket, Buddy joining them. Sven then closed up, and the blanket.

“You alright there…?” Sven whispered. “This doesn't look or feel comfortable…”

“Th- that's the whole p- point… I- I don't w- want to e- enter a- a state w- where I c- could have d- dreams…” Mira whimpered, snuggling up to Sven as much as she could. “I- I haven't h- had a fizzy d- d- drink tonight e- either…”

“You don't need a drink to sleep. In fact, come back on top of the bed. I'll stay up all night and protect you as you sleep.” Sven desperately pleaded. “I just want you to sleep well… deep down you want to rest, but you feel you can't. But you can rest with me.” He reasured. “Please…”

“F- f- fine…a- alright…” Mira groaned as she tried pushing herself up, which she was able to do, but barely. She was so overwhelmed by reliving what she went through, she felt very weak. She fell and landed face-first onto the mattress. Sven helped push her two legs onto the bed, while also grabbing the blanket and delicately draping it over her. He then rejoined her under the blankets.

Mira crawled on top of Sven, then collapsed on top, closing her eyes, resting on top of Sven as if he was a raft, and the bed was a relentless body of water. “W- would y- you like t- to finish o- off w- what you w- were s- s- saying?” She mumbled, her voice barely audible. “Y- you didn't g- get t- t- to f- finish- I'm s- sorry…”

Sven began stroking the back of Mira’s neck. “No need to be sorry. You have nothing to be worried about, okay.” He reassured her in a gentle soothing whisper. “And it's best that I leave it as a topic for tomorrow. I don't want you to focus on anything else other than sleep. You need sleep- and you know if you need me, I'm here, or Buddy as well-”” As soon as Sven said the name of his dog, he leaped onto the bed and began licking Mira, which usually brought a smile onto Mira’s face, but Mira was so overwhelmed, she could give no response facially, which made Buddy whimper with a sense of sadness.

“Mira just needs rest.” Sven reassured Buddy. Sven then goes back to what he was saying. “As I was saying… just take it easy and rest, I'm here…” Sven repeated his reassurances, in the same whispering and soothing tone.

“Mmmphemphhh…” Mira struggled to nod as she sighed out a very heavy ‘mhm’. She then went limp all over, again entering that fractured state of sleep. However, this time, she had actually entered into a somewhat decent state of sleep, albeit, still way too fractured for her to enter a state where she would have a dream. Her breathing was slow, but irregular in rhythm. Her body was staying still, but she still shook. She didn't snore, yet her inhaling and exhaling of air was inconsistent. She was asleep, but her body was still alert enough for her to wake up.

Sven wept at the awareness of Mira’s long and silent suffering. Behind her smile, each night she suffered alone, and each of those nights were normal to her, almost twenty years of no one hearing, answering nor understanding her cries. It was also extremely hard for Sven to see how much damage Mira did to herself. She was very intelligent and intellectual in her own right. This made it all the more tragic, as Mira had evidently invested so much to dissociate and avoid her nightmares and traumas, at best she was tired, at worst, her brain was getting exhausted, and the latter had begun to occur more and more often.

While staying up all night in case Mira needed him, Sven took time to think of how to help Mira. While he still felt guilty about his own past, Sven had accepted his past the best he could and was able to recover in some sense, and while not perfect, he had a somewhat ‘normal’ life. While still recovering and healing himself in a lot of areas, Sven had a more ‘stable’ mind.

Mira on the other hand, had been masking her emotional wounds and psychological scars for so long without anyone knowing with no one being able to help. It was all but inevitable she would inevitably crash under the weight, and today, she did crash under the weight. He saw that she felt so broken and lost. Mira was a very smart and intelligent young woman, but the past chained her down so heavily, it limited her ability to use the cognitive gifts very few get to have. Mira was soul-destroyingly traumatised and a very deeply scarred individual. Her psychological scars however were vastly outnumbered by her open and unhealed emotional wounds.

The longer true recovery and healing for Mira was delayed, the much more difficult it would become to begin. Sven spent the night he promised her he'd stay awake, to think of ways to approach Mira to ask how he could help her. Mira’s issues were so severe, saying they were issues would be a very insensitive and offensive understatement. Mira had injuries, she was profoundly injured. Her injuries were not entirely visible, and have remained hidden for so long.

Sven and Mira carried burdens alone for a long time, and now they were no longer alone. They had the support of each other. But their love and care for one another wouldn't heal them alone. They both now needed to seek help from others, whether it was professional help like therapy or just sharing with a trusted network of friends, they needed to reach out and ask for help.