The female strolled over with a coy expression on her leafage and innocently asked what was wrong in a creepy manner, whilst Alison just stood there, barely aware of her surroundings, with an even odder look of disapproval and the oddest look of fright on her face - as if she hadn't a clue why this person would even think of doing such a thing.
"By the way, my name's Cecelia;" she spoke as if nothing had taken place.
Proceeding to look at the beautiful infant before her, Jessica allowed the tears to roll down her muddled, inconsolable leafage; for she had permitted herself to be wrung by the ongoing, impertinent guilt of having done something wrong.
She muttered incoherently - not directed at any one in particular - having felt overwhelmed by a terrible loss.
In turn, she watched with an uncertain expression on her face as the baby unintentionally squirmed in her carriage.
Whilst Jenna proceeded to thrust inward - making out with this beautiful girlfriend of hers- she looked at the cognizant reflection in the mirror, and sighed, for she realized what she must do: she has to sever her ties with her longtime significant other.
And - even though the reflection appeared to be rather arousing - it was nonetheless occupied with guilt.
She withdrew her pursed embrace and lowered her face and opened her palms. Everyone who knew her knew that that was a sign that she was about to confess something; Shana in turn lightly patted her lover's back and watched in dejection as she bluntly rejected her display of wondrous, romantic consultation.
Alison knew this lady in front of her was her mortal enemy. She knew what she had done to her, how she had done them to her (and so on and so forth) but she could not help feeling empathic for her - and in turn for her mother - who was the victim of her captor's vast amounts of anger.
The tears rolled down her solid red cheeks, and in that moment she realized that she was troubled - and furthermore she realized that there would never come a way to heal those inconsistencies, especially not if she doesn't seek help right now.
"I... Need... Help..." Alison choked the words out - feeling the morbid constriction of her throat muscles and the conversion of her personalities and the frequented diminishing of the realities thereof becoming more evident.
She felt all this whilst Cece cried, and cried, trying to steadily and determinedly point the gun in Alison's direction, but unfortunately not being able to do so.
"I'm so... so... sorry;" Cece uttered, dropping the gun to the floor - to which Alison crawled forward, all the while staring straight up at her captor, whilst displaying unsettling baby eyes, and proceeded to obtain the gun, thereby steadying it in her own hands, retaining control, and heretofore pointing it at Cece.
"I am so... so... very sorry, Alison," she repeated, eyes widened, hands in the air - as she backed backward, to the wall, wherein she placed her head somberly back and proceeded to rapidly sob.
"Just kill me." She begged. "Please;" she continued. "Just kill me."
Both of their eyes were now muddled with the sobering alternation of tears.
TO BE CONTINUED