No one could understand the pain of memories. To be plagued with them every night, swimming and whispering in your head, reminding you of things you've done or should have done. To some, they have grown accustomed to the feeling, ignoring for more pressing matters, like what to wear to an important event with their boyfriend or girlfriend or what to eat the next day. What to put in their coffee in the morning, what to get at the grocery store, or what to do about the dirty kitchen floor.
But others cannot think of those things.
For one, her memories reel in her head about how much pain she is in. How it was much worse than the day before. How much the screaming had grown louder and more pain filled through the years. How she went from a small child to a young woman in the span of sixteen years. How she recalled the times she begged, prayed, pleaded, wished, hoped the pain would end with death. Death was so appealing to her, if only to escape the pain and pay for the sins she was accuse