my hearts in the right place
Everything blurs together after a while. The weight of the darkness and silence in the small cramped space only remind her of how little she knows. She doesn't know who she is, and yet, here she is, trying to do something, anything.
All she has is time to think. So much time to think. She doesn't know how long she's been here. She gave up on trying to have any concept of time a while ago. How long, she doesn't know. Trapped alone, with her thoughts and her hunger, in the dark.
At first, she thought she could handle this. She laughed it off. She thought that he couldn't possibly get to her. All he had done was lock her up. Like this could do anything more to her than his lips up against her neck.
But then... things changed. The smell of blood is still heavy on her, rank and old, but it sets her teeth on edge. It keeps the hunger from going away at all. There is not one moment she can stop thinking about how much she just wants to set her fangs into someone. Anyone. And that thought scares her.
She took to biting herself, scratching herself, just trying to get it out of her system. But as time went on, it didn't help. It didn't do anything at all. And she started questioning herself. Her memories. Everything. If she doesn't even know who she is, how can she trust anything?
Maybe she killed her friends. Maybe she had double-crossed them. The CLF is all she remembers, and even some of that is fuzzy. It doesn't make sense, but then again, since she'd woken up, surrounded by death, nothing had. Nothing makes sense anymore. She had survived. She was what they hated. And if that is true, it only makes sense that she was the one who did it.
There were times she tried to apologize. She could see their faces, drained of blood. Oh, she could remember the taste of it in her mouth. How she wanted more. How she couldn't possibly stop herself. If she couldn't stop herself then...
She would apologize to them, soft whimpered cries, like they could hear her from beyond death. But they were so silent, their faces. They never talked back to her. Even in death they had no pity for her.
When things would get bad enough, so dizzy from hunger, she would smash her head against the floor, just trying to pass out. But even then, the dreams were vivid. She couldn't make them go away. In the dark, she isn't safe. She can't get away from what she's done.
Eventually, all she wanted was to die. But not even that would happen.
She couldn't even die.
The hunger gnaws at her, taking over every fibre of her being, even when she has an ounce or two of sanity. She's in so much pain, and she just wants it to stop. The pain reminds her that she's alive.
It's hard to be angry at Romeo when she's been left with herself for so long.
One has to choose between the lesser of two evils.
[This is likely to be ljalkdjfinga I DON'T KNOW. Read at your own risk.]