Isabella Swan let the soft leather shirt fall over her, letting its smell drift, her eyes so much wetter than she could ever remember them being. She had spent all day in the house grasping at the things that where left behind hauling them all onto the table, she loved every object all of them seemed perfect but useless for she had found nothing valuable. And she still couldnt get it out of her head his death replaying in her mind, she had watched it happen, watched his eyes widen in realization. Bella ripped one of the parchments bitterly, regreting it instantly. She bit her lip till it bled.
Her fathers death had been waiting in an alley for him and Bella had been waiting for it to happen. While he was alive he had been an exacutioner a job that came with enemys, Bella had never had a real friend in her life and had never expected to when he had the nasty habit of killing there parents off. She had been refused a child hood with all the things that came with it, christmas was payed for with multiple murder, the church banished her declaring that no amount of praying would help her father and her grandmother treated them like strangers or worse. She laughed a hard laugh imagining the scene when her father had declared to her what he wanted to do for a living.
She caught the old black mask lifting it too her head, she raised the axe high and atacked a log, practice makes perfect she thought. She would only do it once there was no harm in that not if it would happen anyway not she argued to herself if they had murdered someone. Atleast then she could get away.
A flash of lightning made her drop the axe and when the huge clouds started to rumble the rain hurtelling through the air with the terrible thing slipping in her hands as if it could not wait to cut. She ran through the streets catching her self in the reflection of a window she had cut her hair so that it didnt betray her, she looked the part slim and tallish. She had never learnt to walk the way her grandmother would have wanted. She was glad as it wouldnt have done much good.
The throb of people of vultures as she thought of them where waiting behind the gate, she felt the buzz as she sliped through feeling someones breath on her neck. An old woman with no teeth glared at her, she looked away not liking the fire that burned behind her gaze. Blood dripped from nowhere as she walked, her stomach turning on her. She wiped her hand and walked up to the podium. The vultures started to flap there wings in exitement screeching with all there might. She looked up at the captor quickley, she recognised him a royalist, mabey a kings adviser certanly he deserved his sentence more than most. She knew people like him people who would order murder with easy words. He didnt look scared his hansome features not yet distorted with fear. She could almost feel the adrenaline ozzing out of him. Daring death to come for him. Tears started to fall between the mask and her face. Her hands shook. She sucked in air. Readied the blind fold. He looked up and caught her gaze, probably a little worried at my continuous starring considerring im supossed to be a bloke she thought.
His eyes where gold. She held the axe tight.
"Im sorry.."she said.