Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2009-07-23 03:59 pm
enjoythe_ride) wrote2009-07-23 03:59 pm
[TM] Take someone out.
She wasn’t a murderer, at least not in intention.
She’d never actually killed anyone before, not with her own two hands. And while she knew that there were instances where she had wanted her parents dead, she never thought that the girl she hadn’t realized was a demon would follow through on that kind of thinking. She just wanted to be out, away, far far away, and in the end that was what she had gotten—but with far more blood in her hands than she had even realized.
Here, though, here she would be crossing that fine line. She’d shot people before, sure. Hell, she’d shot Sam before. But this—this was a whole other beast. The difference between being what she thought she was and what she claimed not to be. This was crossing a line that she would have never seen herself crossing under any other circumstances, and that wasn’t a light decision to make, but at the moment, the blood on her hands wasn’t what she was worried about. This choice, this had to do with survival. Whether or not she should take this opportunity as presented to her, because this was her Hail Mary pass.
This was her last ditch effort to save herself and everything in her body screamed for her to survive. It wasn’t a matter of right or wrong—it was survival or not, and if she didn’t survive, then all she would be left with was this mess of her life, and no chance for her to redeem herself in any way. She would be sentenced to Hell, all for just being desperate to survive in the first place in a place that was suffocating the life out of her. As far as she could see, this wasn’t really much of a choice. She would survive in the end—it was what she always did.
As far as she was concerned, she was damned either way.
325 words
She’d never actually killed anyone before, not with her own two hands. And while she knew that there were instances where she had wanted her parents dead, she never thought that the girl she hadn’t realized was a demon would follow through on that kind of thinking. She just wanted to be out, away, far far away, and in the end that was what she had gotten—but with far more blood in her hands than she had even realized.
Here, though, here she would be crossing that fine line. She’d shot people before, sure. Hell, she’d shot Sam before. But this—this was a whole other beast. The difference between being what she thought she was and what she claimed not to be. This was crossing a line that she would have never seen herself crossing under any other circumstances, and that wasn’t a light decision to make, but at the moment, the blood on her hands wasn’t what she was worried about. This choice, this had to do with survival. Whether or not she should take this opportunity as presented to her, because this was her Hail Mary pass.
This was her last ditch effort to save herself and everything in her body screamed for her to survive. It wasn’t a matter of right or wrong—it was survival or not, and if she didn’t survive, then all she would be left with was this mess of her life, and no chance for her to redeem herself in any way. She would be sentenced to Hell, all for just being desperate to survive in the first place in a place that was suffocating the life out of her. As far as she could see, this wasn’t really much of a choice. She would survive in the end—it was what she always did.
As far as she was concerned, she was damned either way.
325 words