An Ode to the Daughters of Darkness

by Forfun100

"One more thing, when they call you a bitch, tell them thank you. Thank you very much." Olivia Gatwood. What was, what is, and what has yet to come. Six teen girls, who know more about our world than they'd ever be given credit for. Drabbles, head cannons, and character studies for the girls who represent the best and worst of the human spirit. Non linear. Non cannon (sometimes).

13. Ashley – Blood

Every time that I have been to a funeral I have been on my period.

Which is to say, that I do not know how to say goodbye without blood and water. That my body is not willing to let go until it pays homage to your life in the form of a sacrifice.

I am thirteen and met with blood for the first time at my grandfather's funeral, I feel like the world is ending.

Sixteen, my aunt has died suddenly and I am told tragically; knowing what I know about death now, I hardly find staying asleep to be tragic, but I bleed to say goodbye all the same.

I remember the Washington's burying empty caskets and the blood seeping out of me despite not knowing if they are in fact dead. My blood melding with the woodgrain because I cannot bring myself to move, until Jessica shoves a tampon into my hand and tells me to get cleaned up.

Despite these sacrifices, I give myself a chance to play redeemer; go away with my friends so that we can leave the blood and tears behind us.

But death catches up quickly, and she craves our penance.

So I bathe in Josh's blood, a sacrifice left unfinished until his mind collapses on itself; Chris's blood splattering against the window panes as I desperately wait for his return.

And Emily, how her blood leaks into my soul when I realize what damage I have caused. I wonder how much of Jessica's blood was left as paint for wood as I so recklessly abandoned her.

How bravely Matt must have bled for Emily, cut open his wrists so she could stand a chance. Michael, bleeding on the inside, never one to show weakness as that beast wrapped his body around a column.

I don't know how it happened, but I overheard the rangers talk about Sam's body. That she was ripped in half, and burned alive; I imagine the buckets of blood she gave for me.

I tell myself that they gave me their sacrifice, that their death was meant for my life. It doesn't make me feel better, but it's all I have.

Seven funerals in three days, I am a walking artifact from a war I did not know I was fighting. And I bleed for them, I sit in the back of funeral homes weeping until I cannot breathe before moving on to the next tragedy.

I do not want to survive alone; I did not want my oozing blood to pay homage so constantly, so necessarily.

I try to close my eyes at night, but all I see is red; like I can never escape the soul crushing agony of knowing what it took to get me here.

I could not stop bleeding if I tried; part of me thinks that if I let enough of it go, my debts will be paid and I can be at peace.

But I am tired, and death… She catches up quickly.