the first draft so comments and criticism are greatly appreciated :-)
This can be read as an alternate reality
(Elena) or the POV of a rare female mutt :-)
Disclaimer: Main character is mine. All others belong to Kelley Armstrong.
are two sides to every story. A
shines through the window, passing vehicles causing it to flicker,
like a torch in the last few seconds of its battery-powered life.
It's never as she expects. In the stories she has read, the
moonlight illuminates the room, bathes the helpless and hopeless
heroine in a warm protective blanket and chases away the darkness,
giving her hope that it will get better. Why
me? What keeps me here? Will it hurt?
Reality is a completely different matter. She knows that. She's always known it but, god, it's still a kick in the gut. There is no ending, at least not one that's been decided yet. She knows how it could end but she doesn't like to think about that.Hating her life is one thing but wanting it to end...she doesn't want to die. Hell, is she even alive? Running, crying, cowering, bleeding...is that what life is? Or is it family, friends, a home and a job? Does it matter as long as your heart is still beating and you're still taking breaths? Endless questions;
Why me? What keeps me here? Will it hurt?Always demanding answers yet she can never figure it out.
exhales. A cloud of breath lingers in the air before disappearing
into the moonlight, and for a second, she has an overwhelming urge to
follow it. Fade away and become a part of something bigger. She wants
to be warm and happy but she quickly squashes her thoughts, cursing
her weakness as she closes her eyes. Save
She winces as she lifts her shirt. Panic darts through her and she has to stifle the urge to call for help or find the nearest hospital. Human instinct. It's hard to imagine ever getting used to seeing that much blood. Will she even get the chance to?
god, I don't want to dieA tear slips down her cheek and she angrily wipes it away. Resting her head on the wall behind her, she smiles as she closes her eyes.
You know, it's funnyShe always pictured Death as an old man. A wrinkled face and steely grey eyes, large hands holding her down. Now she knows how wrong she was. Death is golden curls and cold blue eyes that give away nothing. No weaknesses, no hope for her. It'll be him that does it. He's had his hands around her throat too many times for her to come to any other conclusion. Lucky she lasted this long. She's strong but he's stronger...and he hates her.
Save MeShe can feel the blood before she smells it. Deep claw marks across her stomach. They sting and they itch but there's no need to worry about infection. Too late for that.
MuttShe can hear him snarl the word in her ear as if he's standing behind her, hand around her neck. She wants to tell him that she sorry, didn't mean to kill those people but she can't breathe and she doesn't think he'll listen anyway.
Next time, I'll be stronger
She wont. She knows that and she's getting tired of fooling herself. Always promising the same thing. It will never happen again but when she changes she can't think straight. Her instincts tell her to hunt and she obeys. It's wrong but she didn't ask to be bitten. What gives them the right to judge her? To kill her after she's fought so hard to survive? The unfairness of it burns and she wishes there was something breakable nearby, but there isn't and she's too tired to move.
Have they never felt the urge?
The desire to hunt?
I don't want to be bad
Have they never given in to it?
Now she's the prey. Hunted, for killing one human too many...it's just a shame that nobody ever told her how many humans one has to kill before they decide it's too late.