A/N: Okay so I’m finally ready to update again…the story is all written I’m just going back and editing. I am glad that exams are finally over, December and January sucked with all the projects I had to do. So here is another chapter and the plot begins to slowly reveal it’s self…

Warnings: I’m not really sure…probably some language and demented plot (I hope this chapter makes sense…)

Suppression

In the morning I woke up, not because I wanted to but because I had to. The sun streamed into my room, filling it up and making everything appear bright. Gah. I should really close my curtains when I go to bed because every morning the sun wakes me up in this manner. But alas I can’t. I love seeing the moonlight shine through my window. It is a comfort of sorts and helps me get to sleep.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My blankets were pushed off me and crumpled to the floor. I stood up and walked over to my dresser. Getting dressed is an easy process. Once I found something comfortable to ware, I went back and sat cross-legged on my bed. I stared straight ahead of me and into the mirror that hung on my wall.

My eyes flashed from grey to red and back to grey. My gaze dropped down to look at my feet as my entire body went numb. I could hear the echo of my heart pounding in my ears. It can’t be. Slowly I force myself to look up, and reflected back at me is not my reflection. Well it is and it’s not.

Staring back at me with cold unforgiving eyes was me when I was ten. I blinked and when I opened my eyes it was me again. Sixteen year old me. What the fuck is going on? It doesn’t make any sense; almost as if my past is trying to catch up with me. Well let it. I am not ashamed at what I did. I have nothing to hide. And I am not a monster.

I pushed all those thoughts out of my mind and carried on with my normal Sunday routine. Which meant Sunday morning cartoons! I bounced downstairs in my pyjamas and turned on the television. By one o’clock I climbed back up the stairs to my room to get dressed in ‘proper clothing’.

As I walked into my room my gaze was drawn towards my mirror once more. It was almost like an impulse that I couldn’t stop. I wanted to look at my mirror; I was drawn to looking at myself. No I am NOT a narcissist of any sorts…it’s something I cannot explain.

As I stared at myself I began to feel silly for my thoughts this morning. After all it was probably some sort of trick of the light. But then as I look more closely I could see my eyes have gotten darker, from grey to black and there is a sadistic grin on my face. This can only mean one thing.

It’s back. It can’t be back. I got rid of it all those years ago. It was suppressed never to be heard from again. Slowly I could feel it wriggle itself out from hiding.

Help someone help me. It began to invade my mind, slowly at first but soon its pace increased. I’m drowning…it’s drowning me, suffocating me. Oh my gods. I’m going to die. I am going to die because I killed myself and no one will ever know about it. Nor will they know how I died. This is not how I want to go. I want it to be something painful. Slow and full of excruciating pain.

Wait. Where did that thought come from? Since when do I enjoy pain? Sure the blood is fun to look at but- oh my gods. I do love pain! The sight of blood makes me giddy. The very thought of someone dying at my hand fills me with a pleasure I cannot begin to describe.

Bloodshed is my drug or anti-drug which ever you want to call it. I supposed the very first time I got high was when I killed my parents. It filled me with a sense of pleasure and relived me of all pain. Even now, the very thought of their death makes me smile and fills me with a warm fuzzy feeling.

I turned my head slightly and caught another glimpse of my reflection in the mirror hanging on my wall directly across from my bed. Another image slowly began to form behind me in the mirror; a person, someone I recognized. Someone that had been showing up a lot lately in my life, without drawing attention to them self. I turned around to face him.

He wrapped me up in a tight hug. I knew that it was not to be taken as a greeting, or even as a I’m-happy-to-see-you-again. No. It was so that I would listen to what he had to say.

“Hello again Isobel.” His voice was still vacant, exactly like the first time I heard him speak, distant and uncaring. “You have grown into a lovely young women.”

“Not a women.” I spat out the words, not realizing their meaning, they just sort of tumbled out.

“Then what are you?” He asked me and I realized that I knew the answer. I do not consider myself a woman, a girl or even human.

“I am the same as you.” I looked into his black eyes and somehow I just knew that he was seeing my glistening black ones. “I am not a women, girl or even human,” I repeat my thoughts because they are right. “I am a thing. I am a mixture of pure and impure, just like you. I am not a murder, I am a killer.”

His lips twitched and turned into a small smile. I realized that it is more of the same creepy spine chilling smile I love to do. I can feel my stomach weaken as Wrath held me closer. I could feel his breath on my neck. The creature so dormant in me took this as the moment to wake up.

“Hello,” I call out to it softly in my mind.

“Hello,” its reply is almost like an echo.

“Um…it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s about time you let me come out to meet you. Do you honestly think I liked being locked up inside your mind? Did you once think that I was able to control myself? You could have let me out once in awhile; as your brother trained me and you together.” Its voice was bitter and full of resentment. I knew at once that its feelings were my feelings.

“You’re Ira.”

“As are you.”

“But Ira is a monster. Ira is evil. She is always and forever will be evil. In all those fairytales and bedtime stories I…we…were told when I, or we, were little. No one liked her; all of the characters were out to get her. They wouldn’t rest until she was dead.”

“The only way she could survive was to kill them all. It was justified for it was for her own survival.” Ira finished my sentence for me.

I knew that I should feel scared and frightened by Ira but I wasn’t. Her presence made me feel safe, protected and whole. I hadn’t realized until I had the thought, that I had been feeling empty since the day I tortured and killed my parents. Now, upon meeting Ira my inner monster, I was complete.

I knew that I would never lock her away ever again. Even if it meant I had to kill Wrath to do it. We would be one and the same.

As I snapped out of my daze I looked around my room. It was if Wrath had never been here. But I knew that he had been. Perhaps he was trying to show me Ira. Of course he had always said that I wasn’t ready, I was too young but after my encounter I had become whole.

And he was right. Even as I just stood there I felt different. I felt whole. Me, my self and my monster were one and the same.