#fetchit

You don't understand.

You just don't ... FUCKING understand ... the amount of anguish that tears through your soul when you take a life. Not just any life, but the life of something - someone - you raised, you cared for, LOVED ... 

Someone who adored you and trusted you, who depended on you ...

To take that life with your own hands, to feel that life fading within your grasp and to know that you were the one who caused that life to move on ... 

It poisons the soul. The venom spreads through your veins like a toxin and you become numb to everything.

The truth is, even though I knew that if I didn't stop her she'd kill Letha and her baby - I held back with Christina. From the beginning, I didn't want to kill her. I just couldn't. Something deep in my soul, it just wouldn't let me. Just, every time I bit her, every time I crashed my claws into her, I felt a deep and sickening twist in my gut. Just like when I took Fetchit's life with my own hands.

Despite the murders, despite the rumors she spread about me, despite the threats on Letha's life ... she was still my friend. And even covered in white fur, with gold eyes and  jaws dripping with my blood, I still saw that lonely and confused fourteen-year-old girl with the pale, pixie face and skinny, knob knees writing in that damned notebook.

I miss her sometimes.