*looks away* Glittering eyes falter, then fade. The memories wash over me until I remember what I am- what I don't want to be. It's not my fault, but nobody wants to believe me. I only did what I was told. But that doesn't matter, the fact is that I did something bad, repeatedly. It doesn't matter that I did what I thought was right. Murder's still murder. I can't wash the blood off my hands, I look at my hands and I still see the blood again. Have you ever caught me looking at my hands? Don't watch me when I look at the blood on my hands, I'm ashamed of it. I just wish I could have been what you wanted. Instead of this... "thing" , that I am. *looks away* |