This story is nostalgic for me, but for a different reason. I know you guys probably won't care about this but I was molested as a child, and from ages 12 to 16, I followed and read this story as a method of mental self-harm. I used it to compulsively re-traumatize myself by self-inserting as Sara. Like pressing on a wound, but in my head. At that point, I just kind of craved any strong feeling and this story did it.

Funnily enough, OP, you never updating kind of helped me heal. You taking so long to update made me eventually lose interest in the story, and eventually stop coming here entirely. Eventually I was able to start healing and now, at 24, my many years reading this story seem like a dark and distant memory.

It's odd to think back on it. It makes me sick just remembering how I used to be. It makes me sick to remember how the inside of my brain used to feel, if that makes sense? Distorted. Mangled. Unrecognizable. It's really upsetting to be back here, but at the same time, the fact that this upsets me is kind of comforting. It didn't before. It took a long time and a lot of healing to become this upset at the idea being taken advantage of.

To OP: The warmest and most complicated "Fuck you."

All my best,
"Sara"