Shirese was sitting on the edge of the roof, hands tightly gripping the cement wall she was perched upon, tears streaming down her cheeks.
It was raining, and the freezing drops had thoroughly drenched the girl, making her wispy blond hair slick and heavy, her dress freezing, and her wiry limbs so slippery she was almost afraid to move, lest she plummet to her death.
And she didn't want to die, no matter what she said; especially not now when she knew she'd find a way to make it as gruesome as possible.
She would, she knew, and she hated the thought that she was so desperate for blood that she'd kill herself; although in her heart she knew it was the way they'd designed all of them, a fail-safe in case one of them went rabbit.
Another tear dropped, uniformly, from one eye; no emotion whatsoever was shown in the action. Just going through the motions, she thought, and hoped as she always did that it wasn't true.
For the first time in her life, she wished that someone would come and hug her or whatever it was they did to comfort each other, for a mother or a father or a sister - a real sister, not the sisters back at the service - to sit and listen and figure out all her problems while she slept.
She hadn't done that for a while, she realized. Slept, that was; not that she really needed it, that it was more then a formality, a desperate hope that she'd be human if she acted the part.
She was fast approaching the stage in her withdrawal, she realized, where she felt sorry for all the crimes she'd committed simply because of the kill or be killed echoing in her head; she wondered what it would be like to just lift her gun to her chin right now, feel the cold metal against her even colder skin, to pull the trigger and-
She inhaled shakily, wiping both tears and rain from her face and feeling so thankful that she'd thought to leave her gun in her room, her implanted instincts screaming at herself inwardly that she hadn't brought it with her. I need... She scratched the back of her left arm from elbow to hand, sharp fingernail twisting in just a way that had a red line oozing up her arm. Just a bit... She swiped her right hand over the blood, holding it out and "S'that enough?" she whispered, starting to cry again, hating herself for it. "Will you let me live now?"
No. She wrapped her skinny arms around her chest in a half-hearted hug, repeating the word out loud: "No." She glanced down at the ground far below, stomach turning involuntarily at the thought of her, spread out down at the bottom; perhaps someone she knew would find her, although she truly doubted she knew enough people for that to be likely. Just... Five more minutes. Her hazel eyes peered up at the angry sky, imploring the monster inside of her. Please.
It was raining, and the freezing drops had thoroughly drenched the girl, making her wispy blond hair slick and heavy, her dress freezing, and her wiry limbs so slippery she was almost afraid to move, lest she plummet to her death.
And she didn't want to die, no matter what she said; especially not now when she knew she'd find a way to make it as gruesome as possible.
She would, she knew, and she hated the thought that she was so desperate for blood that she'd kill herself; although in her heart she knew it was the way they'd designed all of them, a fail-safe in case one of them went rabbit.
Another tear dropped, uniformly, from one eye; no emotion whatsoever was shown in the action. Just going through the motions, she thought, and hoped as she always did that it wasn't true.
For the first time in her life, she wished that someone would come and hug her or whatever it was they did to comfort each other, for a mother or a father or a sister - a real sister, not the sisters back at the service - to sit and listen and figure out all her problems while she slept.
She hadn't done that for a while, she realized. Slept, that was; not that she really needed it, that it was more then a formality, a desperate hope that she'd be human if she acted the part.
She was fast approaching the stage in her withdrawal, she realized, where she felt sorry for all the crimes she'd committed simply because of the kill or be killed echoing in her head; she wondered what it would be like to just lift her gun to her chin right now, feel the cold metal against her even colder skin, to pull the trigger and-
She inhaled shakily, wiping both tears and rain from her face and feeling so thankful that she'd thought to leave her gun in her room, her implanted instincts screaming at herself inwardly that she hadn't brought it with her. I need... She scratched the back of her left arm from elbow to hand, sharp fingernail twisting in just a way that had a red line oozing up her arm. Just a bit... She swiped her right hand over the blood, holding it out and "S'that enough?" she whispered, starting to cry again, hating herself for it. "Will you let me live now?"
No. She wrapped her skinny arms around her chest in a half-hearted hug, repeating the word out loud: "No." She glanced down at the ground far below, stomach turning involuntarily at the thought of her, spread out down at the bottom; perhaps someone she knew would find her, although she truly doubted she knew enough people for that to be likely. Just... Five more minutes. Her hazel eyes peered up at the angry sky, imploring the monster inside of her. Please.