Claire - 1

Tides were inevitable. The waves moved farther up the shore, then back down, over and over in the endless cycle. Claire especially liked to watch when the high tide would lap at, and eventually wash away, the debris left on the shore by the low tide. Erasure of the past, painless cleaning away of past mishaps and leftovers: if only the human mind worked the same way. Assuming she was still – or ever had been – human, that is.

She knew better than to wish for the past to be erased, really. Forgetting the past meant forgetting all the lessons she'd learned, dangers she'd faced, mistakes she'd made, etc. And she knew she really shouldn't forget. The dangers were still there, would still be there even if she forgot about them. The liars would still lie, even if she forgot who they were and how to recognize them. At least she knew who she could trust to do what.

Noah Bennet. Claire felt as if "roller coaster" was not nearly strong enough to describe her relationship with her adoptive father over the last couple of years. Deep down, she realized she probably still loved him (she knew she did, really), but his constant repetition of the same line was wearing down her patience and her ability to forgive him for each new obstacle he threw in her way. Love, protection, and devotion were all well and good, but she wanted to have a life. The protection crap had gotten old even before she had become disillusioned with the world.

She was tired all the time now. Monotony defined her everyday life. Sure, it was a new town and a new school. But her family did the same things. Her mom petted the dog, her brother remained oblivious to everything going on around him, and her father continued to lie "to protect the family."

And she continued to lie and pretend right along with them, acting like everything was fabulous. She often felt a bit guilty for holding so many things back from her family, but she hated so much right now. All the time, just hate and anger and frustration.

After their initial reaction of fear and shock, Claire didn't mention her problem anymore, and for some reason, they all seemed to forget what was wrong. Maybe they were all in denial, but if that was the case, surely they were just coping with something they couldn't mentally handle. She should be more understanding. Her family, her life shouldn't bother her so much right now. She shouldn't feel so…

Her thoughts slammed head-first into a mental brick wall, refusing to set so much as a toe into the "forbidden" area. She grimaced; she'd tried so hard over the last few months to push any thoughts of feelings out of her head. But how could she forget something like that?

"Feelings, nothing more than feelings…"

I think one of the lines in that song goes, "Trying to forget my feelings." Sounds like a great problem to have: having so many feelings you have to forget about them. Of course, the singer was probably talking about emotional feelings. I have plenty of those: anger, fear, frustration, disgust…just to name a few.

Let's start with anger: you. You are the basis of my anger. You did this to me. I feel like my entire body is wrapped up in layers of insulation, keeping me from any physical sensations at all. Pain, pleasure, hot, cold, soft, rough: I've got nothing on that front. And the worst part is, the last physical sensation I felt was from you. Of all the people in the world, I would have personally made sure you'd be the last to touch me. Irony?

And you broke me. You don't even know, and you wouldn't care even if you did. Some days, I almost wish you had killed me like you did those other people. At least then I'd know why I have no feeling. I know you said I couldn't die, and I know it's a cliché, but you killed a part of me when you were inside me. I thought you would kill me, and your contempt still rings in my ears.

"Claire, that's disgusting."

Enough anger. Let's move on to fear. We both know you'll come back. You aren't famous for letting your victims go; I've seen what you do to people, what you really wanted to do to me. I heard the tone of your voice even over the slamming of my heart in my chest and the wind tunnel of my terrified breathing: you enjoy what you do to people, what you did to me, you sick bastard. You violated me and took part of me, leaving behind a battered, barely-animated corpse (more a zombie than anything else). You enjoyed the torture, the pain before and the fear during and after; that's what scares me the most about you. That's what still scares me. Your focus and obsession, that hunger that drives you. I saw the hunger in your eyes. That sight didn't leave me when you did. I see it every day when I blink, every night when I close my eyes to sleep.

And I'm afraid I'll live to see it again in person.

Frustration is defined in my life as the fact that the person (monster) who has made my life a hell, who hunted me for over a year, who tortured me and my family, who took all my physical sensations: you are now my obsession. You started this, but I can't finish it.

Why won't you get the hell out of my head?

Frustration is also defined as the fact that my last feelings (real, physical sensations) were given to me by you. Hardly an equal exchange for what you took; I doubt you'd agree. And now I can't stop my thoughts from returning to you, constantly returning to you. You made me a victim, and your memory is keeping me one.

Which leads me to our winner: disgust. I want to think about you. I don't want to forget that day. I wish I could remember it better. And why? Because when I think of you, all the rage and fear and frustration build until I can almost physically feel you here with me. When I think of your voice, I can physically feel the shivers running through me. I can almost feel your eyes, your hands, your breath on my skin. The fear, the anger, the memories of you: I want them. All I can feel is your memory, and I won't lose the last thing I can feel. I disgust myself. I can't…No, I won't let go of those thoughts, of the rage and pain that drive me now, because I can feel them inside me. I can actually feel them.

And I can feel you inside me.

Author's note: The song "Feelings" was performed by Albert Morris and belongs to the copyright holder.