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[31 May 2009|03:36pm] |
I can't believe I did what I did. Even as I continue to think back on it, it doesn't get any better. What's done is done. How many times have I told myself that after successfully completing a mission to make it easier? How many times have I lied to myself, I should say.
Yea, they're zombies. I know that. But they were children. Anyone who doesn't take pity on that doesn't deserve to freaking live, in my book.
Maybe it's because they were children that I am so emotional. I wanted anything not to do this job once I actually saw them. I felt that little boy's pulse die out after shooting him in the head, when only moments ago I held him like a mother would. A life is still a life. I felt his life leave. A child's life. I stole it from him. Infected or not.
This argument with myself is....going to leave me unfulfilled, I know. Because I, of all people, have no room to speak. Yea, maybe I've killed a lot of people. Maybe I am skilled at what I do. That doesn't mean that their ghosts don't linger. Oh yes, they do. Every night I can see those faces. Faces that were filled with fear, rage, pure hatred, contentment, even...
I'm making my own head hurt. The only person in the world I trust is thousands of miles away. I don't know why I shouldn't speak of her to anyone else, but how would I begin to open up? Besides, I'm not one to have people prying into my business. Once the word gets out that a female assassin has a daughter, people are gonna want to lay their hands on my precious bundle to weaken me. I can't let that happen. I have to protect her.
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