My innocence didn’t fade—it was ripped from me the moment the light drained from my family’s eyes.
They were all I had. The lie I clung to.
The promise that we would be okay… that I wouldn’t be alone.
But it was a lie.

They smiled while the world bled me dry.
They whispered hope while sharpening the knife.

I do not rest.
I do not tire.
I do not break.

I will walk this path soaked in blood and memory—
and I will not stop
until the debt written in my veins
is paid in full.

There was nothing quiet about Elena Millicent in her youth. She burned through her teenage years with reckless vitality, a tomboyish extrovert whose spirit crackled with motion and mischief. She existed in a constant hum of energy, as though pausing would mean losing something she didn’t yet know how to name.

She favored the rough weave and loose fit of boys' clothes, finding a deep, satisfying comfort in roughhousing and wrestling with her few loyal male companions.