[I tried to re-write something I wrote a long time ago and unfortunately, I don't like the way it turned out. I'd love it if you read through this though and gave me your thoughts! Thanks a ton.]
It was not uncommon to come home to droplets of blood on your wall.
It was not unbelievable that you had been the victim of a raid.
It was, however, more than Darcy could handle.
At her table she sat, her fingers tight around the stem of a glass that cradled wine.
Red wine, just as bitter as it had been the night before last, sitting at the table for a feast.
Next to her feet a basket woven from her mother's hand rested, its content flowing over the edge.
Tears raced across her cheek. Tracks left behind, never to be wiped away, glistened in the dim candle light.
Fingers dipped in blood, she drew across the corase wood that was her eating place.
The bodies lay discarded in a heap in her sister's room.
Looking at the remains of her life, the puzzle pieces of her heart floated away.
They were not something to be picked up. You could not find what no longer existed.
Her sisters face was buried beneath her mothers hair.
Touching the tangled knots, fighting through them, Darcy felt overwhelmed.
But it was Joanne's face that she needed to see.
The small O formed by her tattered lips was to be imprinted on the inside of her mind.
Inside that small opening, broken teeth were visible, and blood pooled inside.
It was hours before Darcy had even gotten their graves ready that she decided what she would do.
Dragging her family one by one into their eternal resting place, Darcy thought of the life she would follow.
Everyone who'd ever set out to avenge their families were found dead or never came home.
Being one of those people, idiotic, stubborn, blind. It was someone she would never wanted to become.
Throwing their lives away, it had been something she would never understood.
But standing in front of the setting sun, marking her family's graves, she realized something.
They weren't throwing their lives away. They were sacrificing them to save somebody else's family.
To prevent another person from becoming them.
It was a choice, to give your life. It was her choice to take as many as she could.
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