SatinSoul
all i know is i forgot how to be me.
- Feb 6, 2026
- 34
— A Serialized Story written by SatinSoul —
A WORRIED SOULS' MANIFESTO
Chapter 5: The Living Memorial
NOTE: This is not a manual, a treatment plan, or professional medical advice. I am not a doctor. This is my personal raw, unfiltered, ongoing soul-searching story. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't.
A WORRIED SOULS' MANIFESTO
Chapter 5: The Living Memorial
For years, I believed that my misery was the only honest way to remember the people I lost. I thought that if I stopped hurting, I was letting their memory fade. I thought the hole in my soul was the only place they still lived, and if I filled it with light, I was evicting them.
I was wrong.
To those I lost to the void, those who succumbed to the Grand Heroin Lottery, those who couldn't silence the demons, and those who simply ran out of air: I am not honoring you by staying in the hole. Staying broken doesn't bring anyone back. It just sells more shovels. I realized that the greatest tribute I can offer the fallen is to be the one who survived to describe the air. I am your witness. I am the one who carries your names into the future, not as a weight, but as a reason to keep walking. My fulfillment isn't a betrayal of your death; it is a protest against the darkness that took you.
The world, the broken system, and that really shitty therapist (yes, her again) had a role picked out for me. They wanted me to be a walking tragedy. They didn't listen and were comfortable with me becoming a statistic. They wanted me to stay in the "debris of what could have been" because it validated their incompetence.
Choosing to be happy is the ultimate act of defiance against every person and every system that betrayed me when I needed them most. Every time I experience joy, I am winning an argument against the society that let me down. My fulfillment is a middle finger to the expectation of my failure. I am not a walking tragedy anymore; I am a broken girl giving her goddamn best.
So, I look back at her. The fifteen-year-old girl in the dark.
I used to hear her screaming at me every time I caught myself smiling. But the more I infiltrate the possibility of a future, the quieter she gets. I'm finally seeing her clearly now. She isn't a judge, and she isn't an enemy. She's just a child who had to grow up in a furnace. She wasn't holding onto the pain because she loved it; she was holding onto it because she thought it was the only thing keeping her safe.
She isn't waiting for me to apologize for being okay. She's just waiting for me to tell her that it's finally safe to come out. She's waiting for me to take her hand and show her that she is not alone and that I forgive her. That it is not her fault.
I'm not leaving her behind. I'm bringing her with me.
The weight is slowly shifting. The Blood Covenant is void. The VIP Resort is closed for the season, and while I'll always carry the scars of the past, I am done being defined by them.
I stand on the balcony and I look out at the horizon. The 15-year-old girl is standing right there beside me. For the first time, she isn't blinded by needles or ghosts. She's looking at the light.
Because damn, that truly is a nice sunset.
Cheers.
NAVIGATION
☜︎ Prior Chapter
THE COMPLETE MANIFESTO
1. Annual Breach of Contract
2. Pain is the Only Truth
3. Dissonance of Love
4. Infiltrating the Future
5. The Living Memorial
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