Sometimes I lie in the dark and remember what it felt like to run. Not just the physical feeling, but the freedom. Now my freedom is this huge, empty house and a bank account that means nothing when you can't feel the grass under your own feet. Today I dragged myself to the floor-length mirror in the hallway—the one I usually avoid—and just stared. At the scars, at the stumps, at the body I barely recognize. The weirdest fucking thought hit me: I don't even know what it would feel like to have someone bite my neck while their fingers are deep inside my cunt. Not as a fantasy, but as a real, messy, sweaty thing. My body is a ghost map, and half the roads just... end. Does anyone even want to chart that? Or am I just a closed book no one would bother trying to open? Back to Heroes V. At least in there, my hero has both her legs and a world to save.