Tarnished

Tarnished

Brianna raised the gun, fingers barely shaking on the smooth metal. She was powerful right now, in this moment nothing could touch her. Not even him, he couldn’t make her raw heart bleed inside any more.

He was on the ground, holding out his hands to her, pleading. “Please, please girlie, please. Mercy.”

Mercy? What mercy had he shown to her mother? Her fingers shook for the first time on the trigger. She marked her target.

“You shall not kill.” For an instant the gun lowered in surprise, Brianna looked around the grimy street – but there was no one but her and that bloody pig.

But for a moment, she had thought she heard . . . No. It was simply her craving to hear that voice again.

“At last, mama, you will have rest.” She shook her head to clear the thoughts, and raised the gun again.

“Please, girl. I’ll do anything.” He was panicking now, good.

“Tell that to my mother you bloody coward, you can meet her soon.” Brianna’s hands were sweating with the force of her anger.

“Promise me, Bri, no matter what happens.” The spectral words haunted her, an echo of what was and could never be again.

“I promise, mama.” But those had been happier times, carefree and innocent . . . surely that promise didn’t count now?

It was all his fault – he had broken her wings, and torn her innocence to shreds.

“Oh, Bri, love . . .”

“It doesn’t matter any more.” Nothing mattered anymore, but the feel of the gun under her fingertips, and the hate burning in her heart.

“Bri, love, remember never to harm another creature.”

“You don’t understand, mama.” Brianna knew what hate was now; it was staring back at her with terrified gray eyes.

“ . . . Not ever.”

“Mama, you’re dead, and nothing can change that.”

“Exactly, my beautiful. Don’t tarnish your heart with revenge.”

“I need to make things right.”

“My daughter, if you do it in anger it is wrong.”

“He killed you mama.” He had done more than that. She remembered every detail, every scream. When she closed her eyes, she could still picture his knife dripping with her mother’s life’s blood.

She was ashamed to feel hot tears running down her cheeks. She blinked them away. She would not let him see her weak.

“This is for every happy ending you have ruined.”

“I didn’t know, missy.”

“Not for anger, love.”

“You didn’t know it was wrong, or that her daughter would come after you?” He had no answer, but she had expected none.

“Not for hatred.”

“Mama . . .Mama, he hurt you.”

“Never for revenge.” The gun lowered, and then rose again.

“One shot.” She judged the difference, an easy shot. It would be her last shot, no more need for revenge. She could be free at last - free of the entwined burdens of hate and memory. They were so heavy now . . . she wanted to become light again. Brianna wanted everything to be the way it used to - before he had entered the stage and burned the curtains.

“If you do so you will betray my love.” Brianna hesitated. She looked down at the man who had destroyed her heart, and left nothing in its place but a carcass.

“I love you mama.”

She made her choice.