He who use to over power her, holding her wrist whispering words in her ears.
He who use to make her shed tear, lock herself listening to his voice every evening unable to sleep.
He who hates to see her smile, pulling her away from what she once loved.
He who is the worse thing she could have encountered, making her regret her very existence.
Relapse has become her daily meal, looking at her half scarred wrists craving to remove this mental pain.
All her efforts to make it out of there; looking at the bright side of life, love herself but all in vain.