I stood amidst the ruins, my chest heaving with exertion. The institution lay in shambles, a testament to my rage. But as I gazed upon the destruction, a memory burst forth, unbidden.
I was a child, playing in the park, laughing with my parents. The sun shone bright, casting a warm glow. My mother's voice, gentle and soothing, whispered in my ear, "I love you, sweetie."
The scene shifted, and I saw my family's smiling faces, happy and carefree. But it was a fleeting moment, shattered by the sound of screams and chaos.
I stumbled backward, the memories flooding my mind. The institution's cold walls, the experiments, the pain – it all came rushing back.
Tears streamed down my face as I relived the trauma. I felt the weight of my past, the loss of my family, and the destruction I'd wrought.
The flashback subsided, leaving me breathless and raw. I realized I'd been running from the pain, trying to escape the memories. But they lingered, haunting me.
As I stood there, surrounded by the wreckage, I knew I'd never be the same. The past had left its mark, and I was forever changed.
The darkness closed in, and I let it consume me. I was a shadow of my former self, lost in a sea of sorrow and regret.