You would do anything, you would try anything

[parasitus]

There is a certain level of despair that one can reach that very nearly numbs them-- a crushing weight so absurd, so horrifying in its magnitude that it renders one effectively dead. Genie had never experienced its likeness before-- certainly, she had known sadness, loss, but nothing of the caliber, the blackness currently crushing her as she lay, curled, on her bed, wracked with horror and pain.

Her purpose could no longer be fulfilled. Death meant nothing there-- a mere slap on the wrist, at worst, certainly no permanent solution. She had, at last, been rendered obsolete, and she couldn't even die to be freed from that wretched tomb of a body.

Her form shook with terrified sobs-- she couldn't accept it. She just couldn't. She didn't even react when she heard the door open and someone enter, nor did she really care.