Tick tock tick tock tick tock.
Time was ticking, and she was the bomb. Her. Brenda.
Leah and Seth said it was bad. What was worse was that Sue was at a nursing conference in Seattle, and couldn't get home early. Her and Leah had been calling each other every hour, speaking in medical mumbo jumbo and trying to do what they could.
I was desperate. To come this far and then to know that Brenda could die so very easily was eating me up. My stomach ached constantly, and I felt like I had an ulcer. Seth was nice, as he always was, talking to me about it, and soothing Brenda, even though she hadn't woken up again. Seth was actually grave for once. The happiness that so normally raditated off of him in huge waves was gone, replaced by a determined concentration. This was taking its toll on him, too.
Ever since Leah had gotten off the phone three hours ago, she had left Brenda only once to phase and tell the pack what had happened.
I hadn't phased since the attack.
It was so hard, trying to stay calm. I was so mixed up about everything: worried about what would happen, mad at myself for what I had done, upset with what had happened, ashamed. There was everything jumping around in my angsty little mind.
I never really believed Brenda would make it. In my heart, I knew how strong I really was. And with all the care the Clearwaters' and I had been giving her, it really killed me.
Leah, Seth and I were there when she died.
Brenda never woke up. We gave her antibiotic ands painkillers, but she had so much infected and her body was weakened by me and the drugs. Basically, what happened was in the fifth hour since the infection was discovered, the bleeding and scabs grew worse, more ugly looking. I couldn't stop the flow of blood. Leah couldn't clean the wound. Seth couldn't soothe Brenda, because she had never woken up again.
The leech walked through the door when Leah accepted defeat. I was so preoccupied, I didn't even notice the awful, icy smell. My nose burned, but my eyes did too.
"We lost her." Leah murmured to the leech, Dr. Cullen. She was reigning in her disdain.
Seth was crying silently. He would get over it, because he was happy, but that didn't mean he wasn't upset. Through his tears, he elbowed me, "Leah's upset, I can tell. She's not even being a brat to Carlisle. I'm sorry man. I'll give you time. This totally sucks."
Damn Seth. Even grieving, he was still considerate enough to care about me and how I felt, and to notice how others were reacting.
I'm a killer.
The words rang through my head, not for the first time since this nightmare had begun, but now was the first time I knew them to be true. I shattered. This time, hope couldn't repair me.
"Paul?" I turned around to see the leech.
"What?" I said miserably.
"I am very sorry about the loss. I know it's going to be hard on the pack, and now the future is uncertain more than ever. But I want you to know, that, should you feel the urge to talk to someone, well, I also have a degree in counseling. I'm sorry about your loss."
I shrugged it off. Whatever.
I walk outside, where First Beach is literally in the Clearwaters' backyard. I killed her here. What happens now?
Oh my God. That was the question.
I'd taken away someone's life. Something I existed to protect, and had destroyed with those very abilities. Somewhere, a father had lost his little girl, a son his sister, a girl her best friend. Who had Brenda been? Did it matter? She was gone.
And as this crap ripped me up- I should be dead. I want to die.- I thought of what else.
The pack. They'd know what I'd done, see it through my eyes. Sam would be disgusted with me. All of La Push would. I'd killed someone! What would happen? I'd get kicked out. They would never accept me again- not that they did now, anyway. I had no imprint. I was totally alone.
I wanted penance. I wanted to die. But to do that would be to free myself from the agony. That wasn't enough. I would live with this and suffer. I hoped I did. For Brenda. For me.
I would never be a wolf again. I loved that too much.
Not caring about anything, I knew I was all alone, and I started running. I would get away from here, and live on my own. In the wild. A savage beast, my truest nature.
My feet pounded the sand. I wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop.
My mother said that I was like my father with my temper. He the abuser, me the murderer. We made quite the charming father/son duo, even apart.
No. I wouldn't think of that.
I know I killed her.
My mother says I'm like my father, the destroyer of life.
My mother was right.