Faith
Faith sat hunched over the toilet bowl, vomitting again. She was utterly disgusted at the memories she had at herself. How could she have behaved the way she did and thought that it was ok? She wanted to forget she'd ever done those things.
Ironic that she had wished for her memories back, but now that she had some of them, she wanted them to be gone again. Away from the haunting screams that still echoed in her head, the guilty feelings, the disgust she felt for herself.
She stood up and washed her mouth out, then hobbled weakly downstairs to the living room, where she collapsed onto the couch. She reached behind her for a pillow, but came up with one of Zac's shirts. He must've left it there once. She brought it up to her face and breathed it in, smelling the oddly soothing scent of Zac's aftershave. She hugged it to her chest tightly, aching for the feel of Zac's arms around her again.
Maybe she'd been too hard on him? A few weeks without him was agonising. How would she ever survive a lifetime without him? She'd call him. Later. Not right now. Right now, just the thought of having to talk to anyone made her anxious and upset.
Maybe, maybe she didn't even have the right to have him back. After all, she was a killer. And she didn't deserve him.
The soft feel of the shirt's fabric as she rubbed it across her cheek calmed her down. She closed her eyes and smelt the shirt again, almost smiling as she imagined Zac was sitting by her, holding her and telling her everything was alright.
How would she ever go another day without him?