Seven Years Guarding My Kidnapper’s Relics
Language: en
Seven years. That was how long it took for Stockholm syndrome to hollow me out, leaving nothing but a ghost. The psychiatrists deemed me a lost cause. I spent my days guarding an abandoned warehouse, surviving on hallucinations and dust. The childhood sweetheart who once swore to save me had returned to the scene of the crime. He brought his new wife with him. I stayed curled up in a pile of rotting hay, my arms locked desperately around a bloodstained men's jacket. He sneered. "What, still holding a vigil for that animal?" "You didn't hesitate to stab me for that kidnapper back then. Why…