A/N: Here it is, the sequal to Fetch. Thanks goes out to all those who read and reviewed Fetch and special thanks to my Beta Kristen for helping me with Fetch and now Bittersweet. She is also the one who wrote the introduction for me.
Introduction:
"To sacrifice is to gain, and to gain is to sacrifice." This is the law of alchemy, an unbreakable standard of science, but sometimes one that applies to life. To kill or even die that others might live is among the noblest acts of love perceivable... and tragically enough causes us, those left to mourn and remember the greatest of heartbreaks…
Preface:
Lily stood in the bathroom before the vanity and mirror, staring at her reflection. All she could see was… hollowness masked by a pretty face, her father's face, her father's eyes in shape and color, his jet black hair, his fair porcelain skin. She was his shadow, his phantom.
Phantom…
She didn't remember…
Lily lifted her hand to her face, touching her lips faintly, leaving a thin smear of crimson blood to color them.
When it had happened… When it ended or when it began…
She didn't recognize… the person staring back at her in the mirror. Who was she?
This person, the one in the mirror did everything everyone wanted her too, played into expectations… This girl was her father's daughter in almost ever way, or tried to be because she idolized him. But should she idolize someone when she knew…
This specter should have died a long time ago locked inside a box instead of playing the game of life and hanging on so that others might be… what happy? No, they couldn't be. One person could disrupt the flow of the stream but they couldn't really correct it or make it flow easier.
Meaninglessness; lies, hiding…
Her tongue slipped passed her lips to lick away the blood there. It tasted… bittersweet, almost had a metallic tinge to it. Interesting… She was surprised it didn't make her stomach turn but it didn't and perhaps it was because it was her own.
She could feel the tiny trickle, the rolling of a scarlet stream traveling down the inside of her right thigh head for her ankle and sat upon the toilet seat, setting the small pocket knife upon the vanity counter.
Staring at the small wound, Lily wondered why it was she never felt alive unless she'd done this. Why was it she felt more alive when she inflicted pain upon herself?
Lately, no over the last few months or so this had been…
There was no excuse.
But it just felt so… It was what she could control. It was her choice. The pain she dealt upon herself and the blood that flowed from her was her release, her outlet, let her know she was really still living.
The cuts were thin and light at first, didn't leave any scars but this one she supposed might leave a little one.
No one ever had to know. It was her secret and hers alone and no one could take it from her.
The blood was nearing mid-shin now; she'd better bandage the wound or risk getting blood upon the nice white and blue bathroom.
Once she'd done that she flushed the toilet and washed her hands, washed the blade of her small pocket knife and slipped it back into her robe pocket. Then she looked back at her reflection.