The Goal Of My Life Isn't Just...

Somewhere Inside Me Is A Merciful, Forgiving Person. Somewhere There Is A Girl Who Tries To Understand What People Are Going Through, Who Accepts That People Do Evil Things And That Desperation Leads Them To Darker Places Than They Ever Imagined, I Swear She Exists, And She Hurts For The Repentant Boy I See In Front Of Me. But If I Saw Her, I Wouldn't Recognize Her.

I See A Kind Of Thirst In Her Expression, The Same One I Saw When She Told Me About Her Brother In The Back Room Of The Tattoo Parlor. Before The Attack Simulation I Might Have Called It A Thirst For Justice, Or Even Revenge, But Now I Am Able To Identify It As A Thirst For Blood. And Even As It Frightens Me, I Understand It. Which Should Probably Frighten Me Even More.

I Was Angry With Him Before. I’m Not Really Sure Why. Maybe I Was Just Angry That The World Had Become Such A Complicated Place, That I Have Never Known Even A Fraction Of The Truth About It. Or That I Allowed Myself To Grieve For Someone Who Was Never Really Gone, The Same Way I Grieved For My Mother All The Years I Thought She Was Dead. Tricking Someone Into Grief Is One Of The Cruelest Tricks A Person Can Play, And It’s Been Played On Me Twice.

Beatrice," She Says. "beatrice, We Have To Run." She Pulls My Arm Across Her Shoulders And Hauls Me To My Feet. She Is Dressed Like My Mother And She Looks Like My Mother, But She Is Holding A Gun, And The Determined Look In Her Eyes Is Unfamiliar To Me.

Eric Walks Toward Me, And I Back Away By Instinct. I Try Not To Be Afraid Of Him, But I Know How Smart He Is And That If I’m Not Careful He’ll Notice That I Keep Staring At Her, And That Will Be My Undoing.