Understanding ones character

…..

An understanding.

The man's lip curled, distain showing through the emotionless mask that was his constant companion, the shaking man at his feet continued to beg, the floor beneath him already wet with his weakness.

"Mr Hampton do we have an understanding?"

Crisp words full of torture to come

Promises fell and shattered upon the concrete floor, blood rushed and slowed, harsh, begging breath fell silent.

"That was unnecessary."

The voice was of smoke and thunder, of cunning and perfection.

"He was expendable."

The woman turned, her thunder echoing

"We all are."

The man was alone as her footfalls echoed.

"Indeed."

…..

Wondered Regret

Years later she would wonder but never regret, years later she wondered about roads not taken and choices cast aside, years later she would wonder about words unspoken and promises broken.

In the present her daughter was small and her husband was loving, she watched him sweep Sydney up in his arms their child's delighted shrieks turning heads and bringing smiles to strangers faces. He turned his eyes knowingly finding hers, his spoke of unmoving love; hers shone dishonest emotion, changing.

Their daughter leaned into whisper a secret for his ears only.

Years later she would wonder but never regret.

…..

Sometimes.

Sometimes when she was alone she cried, but only sometimes because big, brave girls don't cry, they smiled and forgot. Sometimes she went to their park and swang on the swings, big girls don't go on the swings but sometimes all she wanted to be was little.

Sometimes she went looking for her dad but he was never there, then slowly she stopped looking and started hiding.

Sometimes she remembered forgotten events and the sound of half whispered promises.

Sometimes she laughed and smile and forgot her mom was gone.

Sometimes was always just a dream a teardrop away.

…..

Blood and Bruises

Mornings were always the hardest; in the grey hours she was bruises and broken ribs, bloodily scratches and a broken mind. Each morning she stood looking into her half empty closet, she couldn't stand wearing black but she wore it anyway, it hid the stains.

Mornings were grey skies and an empty house another reminder of a life taken away with gunfire and broken mirrors.

Morning stretched to evening, which was full of greasy food and alcohol that burned on the way down, nights broke with nightmares and a crushing, knowing dizziness.

In the grey morning the stains always showed.

…..

Disclaimer: I have this strange feeling that these characters aren't mine and never had been, pretty strange huh.

A/N For The Twinness, the fun in my dysfunctional.

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