The outside world, as Anthy had feared, was not safer than Ohtori. She knew this, made some mistakes, but it was still so much better to fuck up in freedom than slowly suffocate like a flower in amber. Still, there were some hazards that tripped her up again and again.
"Talk to a therapist" someone had said. "Go see a counsellor." said another. "What the fuck. What the fuck. You want me to kill him for you? Because I'll totally kill him for you." said a third.
Anthy didn't want another prince.
She went to a therapist.
"Why are you here today?" the therapist asked.
Anthy said something pleasant and false. Anthy left.
She went to a therapist.
"How do you feel about your mother?" the therapist asked.
Anthy said she loved her mother. Anthy left.
She went to a therapist.
"Compulsive lying, self sabotage, learned helplessness, history of self harm, clearly you have a personality disorder. For your own safety, I'm having you committed."
Anthy packed her scant belongings before the doctors could suspect a thing. Anthy left.
Therapist after therapist after therapist. All trying to shut her into coffins. So many aimed swords. Anthy wondered what to do. Was it really her? Did she do something wrong again? Something stupid? She can't be better off in the rose garden. Not after all this.
After a while, Anthy met the murderess at a cafe. Tea and cookies.
"I don't want to be rescued." Anthy said. A confession.
The murderess shrugged, more casual than even Utena had been. "I'm not trying to. But women like us, we gotta look out for each other, right?"
Anthy looked at her teacup. "Like us?"
"Yknow. Hurt. Bitches. Dykes. Crazies. Abused and shit." The murderess munched freely. "I dunno how much applies but I remember wishing someone would off my old man when he hit me, yknow? You looked like you could use the offer."
"What are you offering?"
"Community center holds meetings sometimes. Pick any you like, there's womens' support, an LGBT thing, or just general abuse survivor mutual support. There's a board with schedules but I can give you a pamphlet if y'want."
Coven [ableism, attempted institutionalizing, d-slur (positive)]
"Talk to a therapist" someone had said. "Go see a counsellor." said another. "What the fuck. What the fuck. You want me to kill him for you? Because I'll totally kill him for you." said a third.
Anthy didn't want another prince.
She went to a therapist.
"Why are you here today?" the therapist asked.
Anthy said something pleasant and false. Anthy left.
She went to a therapist.
"How do you feel about your mother?" the therapist asked.
Anthy said she loved her mother. Anthy left.
She went to a therapist.
"Compulsive lying, self sabotage, learned helplessness, history of self harm, clearly you have a personality disorder. For your own safety, I'm having you committed."
Anthy packed her scant belongings before the doctors could suspect a thing. Anthy left.
Therapist after therapist after therapist. All trying to shut her into coffins. So many aimed swords. Anthy wondered what to do. Was it really her? Did she do something wrong again? Something stupid? She can't be better off in the rose garden. Not after all this.
After a while, Anthy met the murderess at a cafe. Tea and cookies.
"I don't want to be rescued." Anthy said. A confession.
The murderess shrugged, more casual than even Utena had been. "I'm not trying to. But women like us, we gotta look out for each other, right?"
Anthy looked at her teacup. "Like us?"
"Yknow. Hurt. Bitches. Dykes. Crazies. Abused and shit." The murderess munched freely. "I dunno how much applies but I remember wishing someone would off my old man when he hit me, yknow? You looked like you could use the offer."
"What are you offering?"
"Community center holds meetings sometimes. Pick any you like, there's womens' support, an LGBT thing, or just general abuse survivor mutual support. There's a board with schedules but I can give you a pamphlet if y'want."
Anthy took a long sip of the tea.
"I'd like that."