This is written from Piper's point of veiw. Its her thoughts about losing an innocent.
I just want it to stop. The guilt, it seeped into me the second it happened. Swirling around in my stomach, nothing makes it stop, nothing.
They say it's not my fault, that there was nothing I could have done. But how can they expect me to believe it? Saving the innocent is what I do; it's why I'm a witch. It's why I was lead to the woman in the first place!
So now I'm walking. Trying to clear my head. Trying to rid my conscience of her death. Its not working, I start to cry. People ask me what's wrong. 'Nothing' I say, 'that time of the month,' I joke through the tears. How can I joke?
Oh god. It hurts, why does it hurt? Since when did a conscience hurt? If only Leo could heal it away from me. If only… This kind of pain takes time to heal, but how much time?
The crying stops, I wipe my eyes. The wind blows leaves around my feet. I bend down and pick one up. I hold it by the stalk and twist it round. Its rich reds and browns calm me somehow. Suddenly I crumple it in my hand and discard it. It falls to the ground. Something once so beautiful and alive…reduced to litter. Like her life. One move and its gone, extinguished. And there's no coming back, no return.
I carry on walking, the leaf forgotten. The wind stings my cheeks and my eyes blur with tears. I don't care, not at the moment. I move to a bench and sit down. Its cold, but I don't care. Should I care I don't care? Isn't caring the most important part of living?
I play it over and over in my head, trying to see what I could have done. Reacted a few seconds earlier, or maybe used my power quicker. I know it's pointless, that worrying and obsessing won't do anything to help. I feel like I should do something, feel something. Feel anything. Just to feel alive.
I walk slowly home. My family greets me. Ask me if I'm ok now. What do they think? Doesn't it affect them at all? They give me a drink. I hold the cup in both hands, embracing the warmth. It spreads through me. I look around at the faces surrounding me. Concern and love fills them. The tears start to form again. They cluster around me. Arms and surround me and I know I'm safe, that they'll always be people for me. They'll protect me.
As the days pass the guilt subsides, to become a distant ache. The ache fills me with a desire, a desire to stop it ever happening again.
I just want it to stop. The guilt, it seeped into me the second it happened. Swirling around in my stomach, nothing makes it stop, nothing.
They say it's not my fault, that there was nothing I could have done. But how can they expect me to believe it? Saving the innocent is what I do; it's why I'm a witch. It's why I was lead to the woman in the first place!
So now I'm walking. Trying to clear my head. Trying to rid my conscience of her death. Its not working, I start to cry. People ask me what's wrong. 'Nothing' I say, 'that time of the month,' I joke through the tears. How can I joke?
Oh god. It hurts, why does it hurt? Since when did a conscience hurt? If only Leo could heal it away from me. If only… This kind of pain takes time to heal, but how much time?
The crying stops, I wipe my eyes. The wind blows leaves around my feet. I bend down and pick one up. I hold it by the stalk and twist it round. Its rich reds and browns calm me somehow. Suddenly I crumple it in my hand and discard it. It falls to the ground. Something once so beautiful and alive…reduced to litter. Like her life. One move and its gone, extinguished. And there's no coming back, no return.
I carry on walking, the leaf forgotten. The wind stings my cheeks and my eyes blur with tears. I don't care, not at the moment. I move to a bench and sit down. Its cold, but I don't care. Should I care I don't care? Isn't caring the most important part of living?
I play it over and over in my head, trying to see what I could have done. Reacted a few seconds earlier, or maybe used my power quicker. I know it's pointless, that worrying and obsessing won't do anything to help. I feel like I should do something, feel something. Feel anything. Just to feel alive.
I walk slowly home. My family greets me. Ask me if I'm ok now. What do they think? Doesn't it affect them at all? They give me a drink. I hold the cup in both hands, embracing the warmth. It spreads through me. I look around at the faces surrounding me. Concern and love fills them. The tears start to form again. They cluster around me. Arms and surround me and I know I'm safe, that they'll always be people for me. They'll protect me.
As the days pass the guilt subsides, to become a distant ache. The ache fills me with a desire, a desire to stop it ever happening again.