you always hurt the one you love — introduction .
[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: new times roman; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px;"]There was once a man that did not deserve her love, yet she loved him nonetheless. That had been Marceline's first mistake. Initially after Jackson's early demise, Marcy was angry. Angry that he had pushed her to her limit, angry that he had hurt her to begin with. But most of all, she was angry at herself for what she did. Every time she saw herself in the mirror, she wanted to shatter the glass just to feel something more than the resentment she felt towards herself. It had only been weeks following his death that she began to realise that the anger that she sat with had been grief all along.

Truth be told, a part of her died that day alongside Jackson. The skip in her step had dwindled, unwonted smiles simmered into a permanent frown. Her even temper soon bordered apathy over time as if she had begun to lose the fight in her. It was exactly what happened when every blow would knock her down to the ground time after time again; there'd come a day where she'd be reluctant to get up, but today was not one of those days. Instead, she persevered for the others, even whilst she felt so ugly on the inside. All that ugliness crept around inside her. All that guilt. All of the secrets she kept to protect herself.

On the porch of a quaint home in Ripmourne, Marcy sorted through a duffel bag of supplies to store in the cabin in the midst of the woods. Whilst it was by no means a plentiful bundle, it would be enough for her to camp out in the woods for the next couple of days to keep a watchful eye of her victims. As much as she disliked the act of killing, it was not because of any guilty conscience. In all actuality, the act of killing only meant that the fun was all over. It seemed more appealing to haunt her victims like a ghost, terrify them for long enough until it made the end result worth the wait.

Whether it was because of boredom, a desire to iron out any injustices, or the ominous influence of a black-hearted leader, Marcy had been sucked into this despicable lifestyle. For most of her life, Marcy had learned how to make it through life on her own but this was family. At least, the closest thing to family she would ever find. Even if she wanted to stop, the thought of losing her only family scared her enough to stay. And so, she made the most out of it, found enjoyment in the twisted nature of their wrongdoings.

Tugging the zip closed, Marcy rose to her feet and slung the duffel bag over her shoulder in preparation to leave town to head into the woods. ❝ Heading out to the cabin if anyone wanted to join. ❞ Murmured Marcy to no one in particular as she trotted down the front steps. ❝ Probably gonna camp out there a few days, check up on a couple of stragglers. ❞ Whilst all she seemed to know was how to hurt the ones she loved, redirecting her grief just felt so refreshing. Maybe it was the peer pressure talking, but Marcy was beginning to like the ugliness that lingered within her. It made her believe that she fit in, despite all of her flaws. Despite what she did to Jackson.

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 410px; text-align: center; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 125%; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 0.9px;"]BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 410px; text-align: center; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -5px; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 1.5px;"]AND YOU FIND YOURSELF PRAYING UP TO HEAVEN ABOVE.
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