She didn't like being needy.

But she was her whole life. Always needing someone to take care of her, bring her food, make sure she doesn't die from the next time that damned poison attacked her body.

She needed him to take care of her. But her whole life, she tried to pretend that she didn't.

(Even if he was the one who made her so helpless in the first place).

As years went by, she tried to do little things to prove to herself that she could be at least somewhat independent.

She bought her own clothes online. Well, most still belonged to her mother, but she was allowed to buy boots, accessories, even new wigs for when she didn't feel like using her regular one.

She cleaned the room by herself. She snuck downstairs, and attempted to cook.

All of this, she thought, made her ready.

Shilo Wallace was ready to take on the world.

But now, Shilo Wallace has taken on the world, and she was very, very far from being ready for it. Because the world that looked so promising turned out to be terribly sadistic, and an exact oxymoron of what it was supposed to be.

As she walks the streets after that opera, wearing her mother's dress, her necklace, shoes she bought herself, and shoulders soaked in her godmother's blood; she realized how much she needed someone.

Anyone to take care of her. To at least tell her that everything hadn't fallen apart completely.

Because the world was now depending on the dependent Shilo Wallace to make the terrible world better.

And fuck, she hates herself for not being able to handle it.

(She reminds herself who did this to her)

She was angry at him for doing this to her.

She was angry at herself for not figuring out that her medicine was just glorified poison.

She crouches next to the dumpster, waiting for someone that will never come until she dreams, and begins to feel another withdrawal symptom coming on. Coughs wrack her system, followed by her weak lungs shutting down. Dark spots cloud her vision, and she wonders whether this will be the time when she isn't able to make it.

There were no footsteps. The alley was abandoned.

They would find her in the morning, she supposes. They would find her smiling like Blind Mag had. She wouldn't be smiling because of any kind of happiness, but because of the fact she was free of a world that falsely relied on her, and a body that was dependent on that world and the people in it too much.

A/N: Don't forget to review! :)