fear of god [Matt Murdock x F!Reader]

Feb 17th.

Who am I supposed to turn to?

God doesn't care, or he wouldn't let these things happen. The police don't care either.

I don't have heavenly, divine power to stop evil. I don't even have enough power to write a proper article.
Or a novel.

It's February 17th and I'm tired. Exhausted. There is no energy left, only anger, desperation, and loathing. For everything.

I can't sleep. It's 11:47 pm.

And I have one last chapter to write, due in a month. One last chapter. Then my novel is done. It's the final. It's the ultimate end of all that work. It's supposed to tie everything together, take all those loose strands we call plot lines and sum them up in one perfect, well-worded portion of text. I've created characters only to put them through hell, through trials and tribulation. I've invented a whole world where nothing goes right for anyone.

And now, at the time when they're supposed to be resolute and peaceful, I do not know how to end their stories.

AND I can't believe I'm worried about a stupid novel that no one will read, when that person is out there. I'm hesitant to fall asleep, afraid I'll wake up to terrible news again. But the night, and the morning, comes whether I want it to or not. The endless cycle.