A/N: Written for my friend xeliara some time ago.
Disclaimer: Silent Hill is not mine and belongs to its rightful owners, creators, etc.
Oh, she had sinned.
She was a whore and a drug addict. She knew these things, knew they were true, and yet she refused to believe them. She wasn't a whore, not at all. After all, she was only having sex with her boss, only one person, and sleeping with only one person certainly did not make her a whore.
And she wasn't a drug addict either, no sirree. Sure she shot up White Claudia every night (and every day), filling her arms with tiny little holes, but that didn't mean anything, nothing at all. After all, her doctor (technically her boss wasn't her doctor, but he was a doctor nonetheless) gave it to her, so it certainly couldn't be bad.
Lisa was a sinner, oh, she knew she was. But she could pretend she wasn't, couldn't she? She could pretend she was pure and sweet and wonderful. She was, in some ways. She really did love helping the hospital patients, she really did. She liked to help people. She did.
Until that girl came into her care. That girl covered with the burns. That girl who should've died but just wouldn't, just couldn't. Lisa changed her bandages every day, every single damn day, and she grew to hate it. Not the girl, no, she never hated the girl, but she hated the routine, hated touching the burns.
She wanted to stop, oh, she did. But she couldn't, just couldn't. Dear old Dr. Kaufman made sure of that, kept her White Claudia tucked away safe until she changed those damn bandages.
Finally it all stopped.
But when it stopped, she bled. She bled she bled, oh how she bled. Blood pouring out everywhere. From her eyes, her mouth. And Harry wouldn't help her, he just let her die.
Oh, she had sinned, Lisa Garland had sinned and she was a sinner.
But at the same time, she wasn't. Not at all.
i'm the same as them.
