arwen mortuus ✟ D12 resub

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                                            Born out of hate
                                              I never had a chance, did I?

The only thing to keep you sane here is a blissful
ignorance. 

It's like the more I see,
the more
my mind writhes. 

My aunts are not who I thought they were; I'm not sure they are so human anymore. They play God, and it seems we always suffer the repercussions. We have terrible luck, always have and I think it's the universe trying to kill us off. I used to be fascinated with wondering what the world would do if everyone died; what would be left behind? 

What would rot? 

The most heartbreaking realization was that I would never experience it. The utter silence and stillness, a sense of solitude so unbearable to long for - I'm sick of being surrounded by people. I was born with a useless twin, a weak willed drama queen. Spineless. She can't work in the hospital, because she is stupid I fear. We both started as nurses, but she
always made the mistake of mourning. 

The crying. It almost never stops, and every time
I hear it I get the worst of thoughts. I can't stand it
- these people are a harvest. A bounty,
another warm body awaiting a cold grave.
Our mortality rate is barely legal, yet my sister,
so oblivious, she doesn't realize it yet.

         We are no saviors. 

                We are the murderers. 

   She's never been to the basement; she's never gotten blood on
  her hands. She never will, a parasite to this family and nothing else. Ivy is sent on deliveries while I never leave the operating room, watching my aunt thread the needle between life and death. It's painful sometimes, knowing someone will die as they are so ignorant to it. 

One day, that will be my sister. On her death bed, with a single flower by her side and I'd smile as I held her hand. I'd be revolted when she tells me I love you!, as I know I still wouldn't have the heart to tell her any of the truths behind my back. Even then, I'd be preparing to trade her organs through the fence without a second thought. 

What can I say, this is what I was born to do. 

I hate you would burn in my mouth, as we smiled in those
last few seconds. I think of killing her. 

Often. 

It would not be hard, and my aunts would hardly notice. Another useless employee cut; I get needlessly angry with her. Before I started working with Ridley, I remember us two
                                          dreaming of leaving - going to District 6,
                                       learn from people who really know what
                                 they are doing. Now, I don't think either of us
                            will ever make it out of twelve. 

                                                     She is incompetent,
                                                           and, in a way, so am I. 

                          Our mother was too weak for this world, and I
think that ruined us from the start. Our father, a rapist, rots needlessly - they should let me kill him. We know so little
about him, I have thought over how I would murder him
more than I have ever cared to have parents. Family
stopped mattering to me once they all became co-workers, ran away, or were murdered. Aunt Raisa used to tell us how much like her we were though, and I think that is why she abandoned us. 

We were happy children, I can say that. Our room was a converted nursery and the Hospital was our playground, the old man dying from pneumonia being our newest friend of the week. Death was our normal, and she got away from it. Every time she smiles, I hate her more. 

While she went back to school, I stayed at the Hospital. I learned to heal, and I learned to poison, and I learned how to salvage a corpse. The longer I go on, the more dead I feel behind my eyes. How do I salvage myself? I have become nothing more but the will of my aunts, and it
disgusts me somewhat. What of me, is me? I view people
as assets, and I have always wondered
if they look at me the same. 

Do they see me? 

Do you?