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This was nothing unusual for a Tuesday. Criminal scum never stopped being criminal scum. The so called law enforcers don't want to deal with it, so someone has to. The joys of being a vigilante. I don't know why I did this, high school bullies must have got to me after a while.

She stops for a moment, thinking about what to say next. Recording her story wasn't something she ever had the desire to do. She didn't know why she was starting now.

I guess, being a female had its advantages. I can get into almost anywhere, just find an old man foolish enough to want some young company and no one questions me. The ability to change my appearance enough to throw them off is helpful as well. I mean, give it long enough between visits and you can get in anywhere with a different hairstyle and eye color.

If the old man isn't available, the next easiest option is to use a young boy. They never think about anything once a bit of skin is shown, he will do anything you want and some. In this situation, seduction is key. That is the most enjoyable of the two options, but more questions are asked, that means you need to be more prepared... Sometimes, that's just not possible.

She giggles slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, and looking in the mirror, contemplating whether to use any more mascara. She decided against it.

I'm not game enough to try out the major criminals... yet. They tend to be more organised and the last time we... I... tried that Bridget's cover got blown. I always told her they would recognise the hair... She was stupid and didn't go done up like we had planned. Some criminal recognised her from when she use to be a police officer... I do miss her, and those days. There wasn't a worry in the world, and nothing we couldn't handle. She was my best friend, my only friend.

She looked across and towards a photo on the dresser, it hadn't moved since that fateful day, she shook her head and thought to herself she had to get it framed before it got ruined. She sighed.


Anyway, That stuff happens in this line of work. Yeah, I regret letting her get involved. That was stupid on my part.... No, no I can't have regrets. Emotions get in the way of work. Sadness makes you look out of place in a bar, regret makes you question and rage makes one do stupid things. What happened has happened, I can't change it, I need to move on.

She looked across at the pile of clothes thrown on her bed, one last check to make sure she didn't have anything better.

I don't know who I am any more. That got lost with the bad guys. I can't go down the street to buy a loaf of bread without worrying about being seen by someone. I can't have friends, and after a falling out with my family, I couldn't tell you if they were even alive, let-a-lone how they are doing. It is a lonely life, but it is one I have chosen for myself. Sometimes I wonder why I do it, I don't enjoy being lonely.

She smiled, her eyes full of sadness. Once again she was trying to come up with a reason in her head as to why she didn't stop. Did the fact that she almost enjoyed it make her as bad as the people she was killing?

My only 'friends' are a gun and a knife. But even then, seduction and innocence are all I have to rely on.... without them - I have nothing.

I am nothing.

I need to focus. Tonight is a big night.

I had succeeded in the first part of my plan. Getting a ticket to the bar was an easy part. It only got harder from here. I knew that all too well. Finding a 'date' is simple, anyone can do that. What anyone can't do however, is find a date in the right social circle. There is always the risk you will go meet this not-so-good looking man, and be stuck bored to tears all night for no reason. It happens often, and believe me, it kills all motivation to want to go on a date again. Men are awful creatures.

She stopped talking for a few moments, debating what to say next.

I'm not the best at my 'job'. In fact, half the time I don't know what I am doing, I'm not an undercover cop, and I really don't have the tools needed to become one. Most people wouldn't pick it, but that's how it is. What's more is I do enjoy the thrill of it, the attention and the anonymity of it all. No one knows who I am, yet they all want to meet me. I never get the blame, I'm just a pretty little girl who knows how to sweet talk.

I guess you could call me a killer, but I kill for the right reasons. The thief's and the drug addicts, the murderers and the likes. I take out the evil in the world, even if it means I must become an evil in my own right. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. I don't know. All I do know is that I need to justify my actions so therefore it must be wrong in some way.

She was completely indifferent while looking at dresses to the fact that tonight she once again would murder someone. That was her life. It didn't matter any more.

Tonight is just another dealer, cardimine, he is selling it to children and getting them addicted before they even know what it is. Mothers are loosing their baby's because of this man, and I can not let it happen any more.

She nodded as she changed into a little red dress.

Perfect.



He was late, men always are. At least, the ones I seem to meet. But, I am at the bar and I am doing my best at being an innocent girl. It seems to be working. At least, he seems to be taking my word for it. "Cigarette? Oh, I couldn't." I let him talk me into it, make him think he has control. Men like that.

She tried her best to make it seem like she had never had a cigarette before, he laughed at her. She relaxed a little, it seemed to be going well.

This place really is a back ally joint, run by criminals, for criminals. The mutual respect amazes me, there isn't any sign of a fight breaking out, and no one has even attempted to leave without paying. Honour amongst thieves does exist if this is anything to go by. The lighting is dark, but not dark enough. If this is the guy, I will need to lure him somewhere more quiet. I don't need to make myself known. As it is I am getting sideways glances, and it isn't because I'm pretty.

She continued to analyse the situation, possible risks and witnesses. A bar fight would have been ideal, but that didn't look likely. The man excused himself and went to speak to a young boy by the door.

There is a hall leading out the back, and steps to a cellar, both of which are too busy for a deed like this. I need no witnesses, I need to be able to return to this place. I have to act quickly, it would seem that even on a date, he has buyers waiting. I guess that is the problem with it. I can't cure the children already effected, but I can prevent more from becoming caught in his web.

The bar was starting to become quieter, it is getting late and she is running out of options, fast.

I can feel the alcohol taking effect now, I need to think clearly. I wasn't expecting him to be the dealer, I can't let this opportunity pass. I have been invited to his house, he must be know something isn't right. Surely he wont let me into his home this easily? He seems serious, he seems interested. Maybe he is just too drugged to realise when danger is approaching.

She followed him back to his house, not believing her luck. He stumbled up the steps, and into the lounge. She excused herself for a moment, using the bathroom as an excuse.

I have everything I need here, it is all set to go. Poison is my method of choice tonight, I want to make him suffer. He needs to realise what he did was wrong. It will take about an hour, maybe less with the amount of alcohol in his system. Getting it in his drink may be the hard part, He wont be foolish enough to just take it. Or will he?

She walked back into the living room, where he was sitting on the couch. Taking a seat next to him, she pulled a small flask out of her handbag.

The good thing about people like him is that there is no need to clean up. No one will notice he is missing until thieves take everything he owns. The police don't bother with DNA testing, there is no point. It will only turn up a dozen of the planets most notorious scum. The honour doesn't extend past the walls of the pubs with these people. They will get their time, in turn.

"Here, try this, its a new drink, I had it imported from Gallia.... Yes, I know it burns... It wont last long, drink it quickly, and it wont be as bad. There we go, its all gone? Good." I can only imagine how it feels to dehydrate from the inside out. Obviously painful, he has realised it isn't what I said, but its too late now. He can yell as much abuse as he wants, I'm not the one dying a painful death so what does it matter to me? He wont make it to see another sunrise, hear the sound of the water on the beach, settle down. He wont ever have a family. Children are safe from this monster. His journey ends here, and I was the angel of death.

She watched him suffer for forty five minutes, to make sure the job had been completed. Once she was satisfied, she walked out of his house. Making sure to leave the flask behind, a torn label claiming to be 'Gallia's finest' covering the warning. he really was a fool.

Maybe I am not like him after all.

Last night was a success, as far as successes go. In fact, I think that was the quickest job I have been on for some time now. He really was an idiot. He failed in one of the most important rules, Never take candy from strangers. I guess that just made my job easier, to the point of I almost pity him.

She picked up a pen and began mindlessly drawing on a bit of paper.

I knew someone like that, the poor fool. He got caught up in the wrong crowd and I couldn't let him get away with it. Even if he did claim to love me. He tried so hard to get me out of this line of work, but once I started I found it to be like a drug. John was a sweet boy, stupid, but sweet. He didn't realise he was being used by someone who claims to be a drug lord. He stole away many souls, many people became dependent on him. And like any other male the power got to his head. John was my first at eighteen, and he is now in a better place. My method of choice that time was a knife through the heart.

She shrugged, and smiled slightly. Never knowing love was something she held as both a blessing and a curse.

Love is a dangerous game, it isn't worth playing. It only brings in a second person who you are supposed to trust and rely on. Its human nature to betray one another if the price is right, just as it is human nature to fight wars. Without betrayal and war, people would get bored, and thus in turn a war would start. They use religion as a cover. Religion, Fuel, Land, but its all the same thing, without it - the soldiers are lost. It is there life, like this is mine. I have made it this far without the problems love cause and I don't need it now.

She looked over at a clock, 11am. She sighed and looked at the paper, putting the pen down before continuing to talk.

I dream about what life would be like if I were 'normal'. Maybe I would be a mother and have kids of my own, and I would know love. Maybe. But sometimes the dream is different, its dark and dangerous. A series of death and destruction. I prefer those ones, it makes me think my life wouldn't be too different to as it is now. Well, different, but not in the way I would like it to be. Who am I kidding, I know what it would be like. I wouldn't be this lonely. Sometimes, when the world doesn't know you exist, all you want is a someone to care, even just for a moment.

She looked across the table at a packet of tobacco, some papers and filters.

I'll have one last cigarette before I quit. One last cigarette and a night off.

What can I say, its been dead the past few days. Hardly anything happening. One last cigarette turned into one more as it always does.

She finished rolling the one in her hand, and lit it, inhaling the toxic smoke.

They found the body - Cause of death, suicide by poison with no signs of foul play. That's just the police brushing it off so they don't have to actually put any effort into figuring out what really happened. I mean, why bother, Its not like the police really have the resources to look into every death of every gang guy or dealer. I guess its a good thing, takes the thrill out of it a bit though.

She smiled slightly, but it was hard to tell what it meant. Her eyes were showing a different emotion entirely.

I like to try make things a little more interesting, leave something behind as a mark of me being there. Only something subtle, something small. Hardly noticeable, but it is there. I wont tell you what it is yet I'll leave you to guess. Its not expensive, but it adds a bit of mystery you see. What they don't realise is it is all relevant to them, that would be why its over looked more often then not, and when it is noticed, nothing more is thought of it. When they realise the connection, heads will roll.

She looked out the window of the old warehouse she had made into her home.

I use to come here as a child, before we moved, before we had our falling out. It never looked like this as a child. It was a castle. The giant walls and high ceilings made the perfect climbing walls, and the rooms were our safe houses. This was where I had my second, I was eighteen and a half. It was in the back room, down the stairs - I never was able to get rid of all the blood. Her name was Sandy, a spoilt little girl if I ever knew one. Her Daddy was in the H-fuel business and Mummy was a lawyer. She was a thief, stealing everything kids like me had. It wasn't until she took Leon's new bike that it was a problem, he had been doing a paper run for three years to buy it. No toys ever went missing again after the job was done. My method of choice that time was messy, something I learned not to do again; Partially beheaded. No one thought it would have been me. I was a little girl who couldn't possibly have the strength, or guts, to do that.

She glanced toward the back room before looking to the floor and sighing.

The kids I use to play with are all long gone. If you stayed in this part of town, the girls became street workers, and the boys ended up dead. It was always the same story. Drive bys, hit and runs, arson, outright murders. I guess that's why I stay here, at least no one will risk looking for me in the middle of gang territory, and my targets would never expect me to be in their back yard.

She quickly looked over the small area she could see out the window to be sure no one was there.

I have some intel I will be looking into. Bar tenders will give you anything for the right kind of tip. Tomorrow will be a big night, off Manhattan even. I have my Stinger all prepared and ready over there in the corner, as there is a big party on Erie. All the rich and famous are going. That means I need a date.

She stood up and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the workshop part of the warehouse. She pulled a key out of her pocket and opened it.

And apparently one of the waiters has a really bad habit.

I was reminded of something important today.

She took a seat on a stairwell.

Humans have a bad habit of assuming they know someone, even if they haven't met them. It is an interesting thing. One might say the lady down the street is a crazy cat lady, when all she did was start rescuing cats to pass them onto new home. The man at the butcher might be a scary man because he has scars over his face, when he received those rescuing a child from a burning building. I might look like an innocent young girl when I am really a killer. No one can ever know for sure what someone is doing, or what their intent is. But as it is human nature, one will instantly assume the worst.

She fixed up her top and straightened up her hair after a gust of wind messed it up.

Today, I fell into the trap of assuming things were as they seemed. I went to a nice cafe, to try and get a ticket in to the party. The waiter seemed to be a shady sort, he was always somewhere in the background, far enough out of sight to not be a problem, but never completely gone. He had the appearance of a regular synthetic marijuana user, I don't know what it is but you can always tell. I still wonder if he is... I guess I will never know. This waiter earned my respect tonight, regardless of what he does or doesn't do. No amount of feminine charm would get him to betray his wife and children. Its times like these, a small amount of faith in human kind is restored for a while. It never lasts long.

She smiled sadly and looked across a small field to some children playing on a swing set in the playground. This was a different part of town to what she was use to. Friendly, people were smiling. She felt so out of place.

Sometimes I wonder if someone can become the exact evil they are trying to stop. I reason with myself. Just one life will protect many. But does it matter how many lives you save if you destroy one? What will happen if there is an afterlife, will they look over this, or will I have been dragged too far into the darkness? I guess that would all depend on whether there is an afterlife. It doesn't seem likely. For that to be, there needs to be a divine ruler. And what kind of divine anything would let their creation end up like this.

She watched the children on the swings a while longer before noticing the wind starting to get cooler.

There are people on the streets with no place to call home, they have no friends and family, not a credit to their name and they will still give their shirt off their back if you need it more then them. There are murderers with partners and kids, living in incredible houses fuelled by drugs. Children go missing, thrown into slave camps or sold for large sums of money to a new family because they have the right sort of hair. Grandparents and old soldiers are forgotten, thrown into 'luxury' accommodation worse then prisons. And no one cares. The media thrives off the misfortune of others and portrays it in such a way that makes it ok. Sometimes I am glad I don't exist.

She looked up, noticing the sky was as red as blood.

My third was because of something like this. It was two weeks after my second. I don't know his name, nor do I care to know. He kidnapped a child, a little bright green eyed, red headed girl no older then 3. Red heads were in high demand back then for adoption. He created a false identity for this girl, and sold her to a wealthy family for a considerable amount of money. She grew up, and her new 'father' began beating her. One day, he killed her. The 'father' was jailed for life - I would rather have seen him suffer. But the man who stole this child away from her loving family got off without any convictions. He then had the nerve to brag about it. I was in the right place at the right time. A red headed teenager, all alone and vulnerable in a 'new' town. He was doing well for himself, had a house with a pool even, oh, it was a tragic 'accident'. My method of choice, and still my favourite to this day; drowning.

It was dark now, the playground was silent. She stood up and began to walk back towards the warehouse.

Its going to be another cold, lonely night. I guess I should be use to that by now.

Well, I failed. Can't get into the party and believe me, I tried. I even tried to slip in unnoticed and it didn't work. In the end, I caused quite a stir.

She shook her head, remembering the events of the night so far.

The social-hierarchy of the human race is something I find quite funny. People are dependent on it for life to continue on the way it is, and there is an uproar if it is changed. You have the lower class people. The ones like me, trying to make ends meet, working hard for nothing. Then there is the middle working class, the respected white collar workers, mechanics, teachers, the people who get bored of life and go jump off a bridge. Then you have the upper class politicians, famous people and royalty. The ones who think they own the show and can do anything, because money will fix there mistakes. Everything revolves around looks. If you look different, then you don't fit in. That's why I am good at my job. I can be anyone I need to be. I can't function knowing there wont be another role I have to play. I don't know anything outside of the characters I play in the story of life.

She shrugged. This didn't phase her as much as it use to.

I made the decision to go home, but there is a police officer calling me over, he is looking for a good time. People seem to like trouble making, well dressed red-heads, I don't understand it. He has called me over, and wants me to follow him to his car. I know this could be dangerous, but that's where the fun of it is. I am cautious, always cautious. A police officer on duty shouldn't be doing this, maybe I was two steps behind them at all times. It was the first moment I have ever considered that they might know what I am doing, and this was a coy to ambush me. It turned out it isn't.

She smiled slightly, playing along with the police and his game.

His crime was corruption. You don't realise the corruption of man kind until you see it first hand. By the time we get to his car, I have my small flip-blade out and thankfully it is small enough to hide in my closed hand, I wait to see how this will play out. It went how I thought, he has pushed me up against the car, and tried to lift up my shirt. I slipped the knife out, and flipped it open, stabbing him low in his abdomen. It wasn't intentional, I was stupid and panicked. I should have timed it better. I know the time it takes for one to die from that compared to other means. I twist the knife, hoping to make it quicker. He falls to his knees, the knife still in his gut. I push him over backward with my foot, putting pressure on his throat when he is on the ground.

She looked around, making sure no one was watching, this was sure to get her in trouble.

He stops moving so I pull my knife out of his stomach, I just have to watch the flow of blood for a moment, trickling down the road to a drain. It is something that gets me every time, the beauty of it, so peaceful but at the same time sinister. It almost dances toward the drain, where it will disappear. I won't leave my signature mark behind in this one, or maybe I will... I'll leave it here in his car. They have to notice it this time, there is no way they can't. Surely they aren't that stupid. I am though, I should have left when I had the chance, and this would never have happened.

She looked up, it was starting to get busy outside the hall. The event must have finished.

I need to go, not toward people, down the alleyway, there should be a small walkway to the next street across, and then a network of back streets and alleyways from there. I need to make sure I won't be followed. I will go home, and wait for the news. I will need to law low, change how I look. I caused too much trouble tonight, and this pushed the line too far.

There was a scream, she broke into a run, taking the back route down the alleyways. She quietly entered the hanger, starting the stinger and leaving Erie. Shaking despite the fact that it was a warm night.

I am safe, for now.


Its been days. They found the body, obviously. They are in the processes of investigation his murder. I haven't eaten, slept, or gone outside for the best part since I got home. I have really messed up this time. And yet, I am still wanting to go out and do more. I know I can leave, not until the investigation is over. I can't, but I would give anything to. I'm not an animal to be caged.

She paced along the length of one of the back rooms, 6 steps each way.

I'm not scared of what could happen, I will get away with it, I always do, I am annoyed at my inability to suppress my fear in a situation where I needed absolute control. I knew what was coming, I knew that before we got near the car. The fact I was unable to control my fear means I am not an ideal person to be doing my job, I am still letting stupid things like emotions get in the way of it. I don't let love, or happiness change how I do things, so why fear?

She stopped pacing, and looked around the room, oblivious to the fact that she was a mess.

Its is a funny emotion, it does different things to different people, and I have seen it all. Some decide to give up, that they wont be able to get out of a situation so therefore why should they bother trying, these are usually the abused or the drugged up type. The next is flight, a cowardice way of dealing with it. Fight is the reaction that I like, it makes everything so much more interesting. It also makes people do stupid things, like stab a police officer outside a busy, well defended, party. Unfortunately for me, its how I deal with things, so it is torture for me to have to take the flight path and do that.

She clenched her fists, and punched a make-shift punching bag a few times before she fell to her knees, head in her hands.

I can't stay here any longer. I need to go out and continue on with my life. I can't stay hiding, the bad guys won't stop what they are doing, and I need to take as many of them out as I can. That policeman was corrupt, it isn't my fault. It wasn't my fault he was wearing a uniform, it wasn't my fault he was on duty, and it sure wasn't my fault he was a bad man. He would have done what he was going to do to another girl, an innocent one who trusted him because he was in uniform. I made a difference to that one girl, whoever she may have been, and that's all that matters.

She wiped her eyes and stood up after a moment, walking to the bathroom to clean up.

Tonight, I make my comeback.

I have only gone to the park today, the one where the kids were playing. There is only so much luck one can have before it runs out. Surely.

She took a seat on a swing in the corner under a tree, wondering why it was so quiet before realising it was 9am on a school day.

Luck is a funny thing. Someone once told me that you created your own. I don't believe that only for the fact that I would have been dead or in jail many years ago if I didn't have some sort of 'lucky' streak in my blood. In saying that, different situations call for different views on it. If one was to walk out in front of a bus, see it and step out of the way, that is considered luck. But is it lucky they saw it, or lucky they stepped out of the way. If a child falls into a river, and he can't swim but somehow survives, is it luck that he managed to float in the direction of a log, or is it survival instinct. Was it luck that I managed to get away unseen, or am I just good at my job.

She smirked, and looked out over the small fountain in the middle of the playground.

I decided to only venture out a small way, where I know no one will notice me, and least of all know who I am. Anonymity is both a blessing and a curse. No one knows I exist, so they cant hunt me down, but then if I die, no one knows I have gone. The only time my anonymity had been threatened was the need for drastic measures, this man didn't do anything wrong as per say - but he did threaten my own safety, and I can't be exposed. He was one of those people that you either like or you didn't; tall, blonde, arrogant and handsome. He infuriated me, he really did. Everything he did he had girls swooning over his every move.

She looked disgusted for a moment, before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. It was starting to get busy, must be interval at the local school.

He was silly, but knew how to research. I will give him that much. He found an article I wrote in high school with a photo of myself. He managed to put two and two together, I was sloppy after one of the kills and left some evidence, they wanted to bring me in for questioning. I managed to have the control to not kill him, instead I risked my freedom and cleared my name by framing him. I just needed to get close and get into a fight, both of which which were easy enough. The fight to make it look like I had no choice, and the DNA to place him there and make him guilty. He was arrested for a minimum period of 50 years, with 20 of that in a mental health hospital as he had no recollection of making me do it. I got off lightly hospital examinations, mental assessments, and a week in juvenile detention.

She smiled thinking about how much longer he had to go, she did well that time.

I guess you could say that was luck.

Indulgence and greed are one of the same. Only the extent they are taken to is what defines the person, is what makes them what they are.

She stood up from the chair she was sitting in, and looked across toward a box in the corner with a can being used as a vase for some white roses. They were mostly dead.

The only real difference between the two is who is looking at it. From the person who is partaking in the events of indulgence, it is nothing more then that. But from an outsider, it will be seen as greed. Greed is one of the sins I despise the most, this could be because I was caught in its trap not too long ago. I was upset of living my life as I was. Worrying how I was going to get my next meal, where I was going to get some more clothes from when the ones I owned fell apart. Greed is the root of many evils, theft being the one it drove me to. I became good at it, always managing to get away before I was noticed, or out run the law enforcers. They were unfit compared to a child that needed to run to survive.

She walked over to the flowers, picking the remaining petals off and watching them drop to the table, they almost danced as they fell to their inevitable end.

Nothing lasts forever, and I grew up. I lost my flexibility and small frame, making being a successful thief harder. I knew my luck would run out, but I needed the next pair of shoes, the latest dress from the hottest designer. I let greed take control, and I didn't want to stop. It wasn't until I was caught that I realised what I had turned into. An older man managed to outsmart me one night. As a local shop owner, he was fed up with the police not doing there job. He managed to lock me in a small room, and kept me there until morning. I thought that would have been the end of my freedom, but he wanted to take justice into his own hands. I guess I am lucky he did.

She smiled and looked down before sweeping the petals into her hand, taking the old roses out of the can and walking outside.

When morning came, I found the room was slightly bigger then first thought, it had a sewing machine, and what I found to be a bathroom after investigating further. I cleaned up as best I could, splashing water over my face. The lock clicked and I walked out as the older man was walking in. To my surprise, he pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for me to do the same. That man spoke to me like I was a normal human being, like I was an old friend. I was dumbfounded, I did not understand. He gave me a drink and a meal, and informed me I was to work for him for a week to recover the losses he had made. I went back to his little shop every day for one full week. Even more to my surprise, he paid me for my work. There was one comment which has always stuck in my mind, ever since that moment in time.

She threw the petals over the pathway to her door, watching the wind blow them around a bit, and placed the stems next to the rose plant.

So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning. It was these words that I formed my new life around. I created a life of meaning, fighting for what is right.

She picked three new roses off the plant, and walked back inside closing the door behind her.

The only thing I can not do is love others. Love does not exist.

There really is only so much a person can do before they start to get weary and bored of what life throws at them. After a while it just becomes mundane.

She sighed and looked longingly out the window, she would give anything to be normal - even just for one day.

Most people would look at my job, and see it as sexy, adventurous, exciting.. and don't get me wrong, they are right... Well, at least they were. There was a time I use to feel like I was one of those super hero's on the neural net. You know, the ones in children's fairytale cartoons.... They aren't called fairy tales for no reason. Everything good must come to an end and something must take its place, otherwise what is the point? No one can be happy in a perfect relationship, with a perfect job, in a perfect house forever, right?

She frowned slightly and became lost in thought for a moment before shaking her head and picking up a mug of coffee from the windowsill.

My Grandmother fell into that trap, thinking things would stay perfect forever. When Grandfather passed it almost killed her, eventually, I guess it did. She became ill and was admitted to hospital within months, and not long after they had her on life support. She was never going to wake up, they were keeping her alive for profits sake... You don't do it to an animal, I still don't understand why it is ok to treat another human being this way...

Hannah started tearing up. Her Grandmother was like a mother to her, and even though it was necessary, she hadn't forgiven herself for what she did.

She was become more frail, more unwell. I couldn't bear to watch it any more. I... I pulled the plug, turned off the life support and let her pass into what I hope is a peaceful place. I took her silver locket, so she would always be close to me and I left. She was my last connection to society, the last reason for me to be who I was. From that day forward, I knew the meaning of being alone. You don't truly know what that means until no one knows you exist any more... I... need to get ready, I am taking my ship to a station called Barrier Gate this evening.

She dried her eyes on the back of her hand before taking a sip of coffee and took a deep breath.

I need to find a new fairytale.