It was scary how often Lisa considered cutting off her own hand or knocking over a bookshelf with her under it. It definitely scared herself, more than a lot of things. What was scariest, however, was how distracted she’d get thinking about how she wouldn’t have to really do anything if she got hurt bad enough. Like, she was almost hoping she’d be paralyzed one day just so she’d have an excuse for no one to expect anything of her. She’d heard of people who pretended sickness or illness or handicap just to get pity, but that’s not what she wanted. She just wanted to stop trying.

It’s not like working at an amusement park pressing buttons was really trying, either, but she wouldn’t have to do any of it. Even better, she’d have people waiting on her, making sure she was okay, attended to, and going to survive. She just didn’t want to care about herself anymore, because it was just getting to be too much.

The biggest draw was the idea of people caring for her, caring for her in a way that no one in real life did. She’d do this every night – think it all the way through, every time. It chilled her, and the fear of her own apathy taking over kept her trying.

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