Gwen
Gwen walked slowly down the road, the rain beating down on her. She'd already been struck by lightening about 10 times tonight. What would it matter if it happened again?
Nothing mattered. She wasn't with Mordred, she'd almost killed him. And now, she was going to kill herself. It had been handy being a thief, it meant she could sneak in and out of houses and taking what she needed without being caught.
And if she hadn't been in the houses, she'd been on the streets. Being abused, and raped and hurt. Goddamit, everything hurt. Everything was terrible without Mordred, but she couldn't go back. Not after what had happened. So it was like this from now on. Living on the streets, being abused, wanting to die. But what the hell did that matter anymore, anyway?
Gwen angrily kicked the glass bottle in front of her feet, smiling with demented delight as it broke. She bent down and retrieved a shard of glass and cut into her arm, over and over and over and over, until even the rain couldn't wash away the blood anymore because it kept coming. The pain was endless, but what the hell did that matter? She cut savagely, over and over, until she couldn't feel anything. She looked at it, a mess of blood and skin, the bone almost showing. It was almost unbearable. But she deserved it.
The road ahead looked threatening, especially in the howling wind and rain, but Gwen ignored her fears. She ripped her shirt and bandaged it around her arm, only now feeling foolish. The loss of blood was making her lightheaded, but it was worth it, for that second of release. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a syringe. The guy who'd given her this stuff said it was good for numbing your body. Well, that was what she wanted. She stuck the needle into her arm and pumped herself full of drugs, screaming into the night.
This time, she'd gone too far. And now there was only one place to go.