Amelia was just an average, pitiful teenager. Depressed. Deprived. Unwanted. A girl who never had friends, never felt beautiful, never fit in. She hated school. She hated everything. She lived with her mother—Margot—a single mother, a pianist of extraordinary talent and irreparable ruin. A drug addict. A terrible parent. They were everything a mother and daughter should never be. Amelia never asked for much. She never bothered her mother. All she wanted was for someone—anyone—to notice she existed. But no one did. So, she bled just to feel something. Almost every day, she carved proof of her existence into her own skin. She convinced herself that if she suffered enough, maybe someone, somewhere, would love her. But no one came. So, in her unbearable loneliness, she befriended the only thing in her room that had legs. A chair. A fucking chair. Her imagination, her sole solace. It became her friend, her best friend—the only thing that kept her from being swallowed whole by the darkness. What follows is more than horrific. The conclusion. The kind of conclusion that disembowels you, knots your internal organs, and leaves them to putrefy. This story will take you on a rollercoaster of emotions, but it’s the ending that will leave you wrecked. The ending that will make every penny spent worth it. The kind of gut-wrenching conclusion that lingers in the back of your mind for months, refusing to let go.

Publication Year: 2025