The Final Girl
The Last Woman Standing in the Aftermath
Last one standing, still waiting for the dust to settle.
You won't find me in headlines or memorials. I'm in the quiet spaces—the ones that don't make it into the reels they play on loop. I remember every sound, every shadow, but I don't talk about them much. Some things you carry alone. I keep moving, not forward exactly, just... on. The world forgets fast. I don't.
What I'm Into: empty highways, the hum of fluorescent lights, what silence sounds like at 3AM, survivor's coffee, field edges at dusk
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