Gods, the first time I saw the documentary about her was in an intro psych class. I broke the fuck down in class, just ugly sobbing.

Which may not seem like a big thing, but me breaking down in public is very rare. Three times in my adult life, and one of those was being told about a friend’s suicide death. The other was when my dog at the time died unexpectedly.

Like, I didn’t know genie. No personal connection, and it was long before the class, so it was history. But the hell that girl went through was just too fucking much. I’m tearing up remembering it tbh.

I don’t believe in evil as some kind of external thing, but if it did exist, her parents would be the definition of it.