Childhood dementia is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.
You’re fourteen. You don’t have mental disorders. You used to be sharp. Yet, you’re not really there anymore. But your mother didn’t smoke during pregnancy, and you did nothing to deserve it.

Your personality, memories, everything that makes you “you” just rots away. There is no cure. You’ll never fall in love, never have your first kiss, your first boyfriend, never travel the world, never be a prom queen, never marry, never have kids.

You’re dying, and you’re too far gone to realize it.