Self-Destruction

I sat there, my MPLX Novasurge pistol gripped tightly in my pale shaking hands. The metal was cool under my fingers. The Enclave Hellfire mask I constantly wore was tossed across the large gazebo in a fit of depressed rage. Smoke and salty sea water filled my nose as I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself. My freshly shaved head was cold in the sea breeze and I wanted to shiver. A broken laugh left me as I watched the smoke from the Calvert's mansion rise.
"Blech. If my kid looked like that, I'd abandon it too."
One of my pale shaking fingers caressed the new scar above my brow. It throbbed with a vengeance at the poorly done surgery. The skeleton on that table made all those feelings of self-loathing rise to the surface. I had killed my own mother. With my birth, I had taken away the love of my father's life. My fingers pushed away a stray tear from my murky green eyes. He had told me I looked just like her. I ran a finger over the scar under my eye, and the scar over my lip. I made a reach to my ear and thought better of it. My eyes stung as I reached up to curl my non-existent locks. Just like your mothers, he would always say. I wasn't something to look at twice, but I wasn't that bad... Right?
"Isn't it funny how everything you get close to ends up leaving?"
I choked back a sob at the thought of that stupid bobble-head. My hand tightened around my most prized weapon, the other cradling the back of my neck. Images of all the people I call friends...
Amata. She was faced down in the water, but I could have recognized her pinky toe if it was shown to me. My heart cracked as I thought of her decision. A lifelong friend, my sister, my best friend.. had banished me from my own home. She might as well be dead because I would never see her again. The picture of her corpse in the water would be forever engraved in my mind.
Moira, I had broken her dream of helping new people in the wastes... Telling her that stupid survival guide she was writing was a waste of her time, despite all that it did to help me. I learned to keep my mouth shut after that. Guilt filled me as I thought of how much I had hurt her, how much I wanted to take it all back.
Lucas Simms, that man had treated me well. He was the first person I had met that cared about whether I lived or died. The cowboy took me in and gave me room and board for help with his son. It was something I couldn't be more thankful for. The sight of his body hurt something fierce.
Charon. My heart seized as I thought about his lifeless body floating there. I had come to appreciate the Ghoul over the few months I had him at my side. Those feelings eventually clouded, but seeing him hurt me. It hurt a lot worse than I would have ever imagined. He was special to me. I hunched over, hand on my chest.
Dad. You were there too. Such an accurate depiction of his screaming face... A sob left my mouth as I remembered his lifeless eyes. He had left me, he had disregarded me, but he had cared. He wanted me safe and he loved me when I hadn't even learned to love myself. I watched him die. My hero, my teacher. I would never forget the image of his shaking body as he drank up the radiation.
Sobs racked my body, the pistol forgotten on my lap.
"Dead mother, life in a post-nuclear Wasteland and not a friend in it. Yeah, you aren't exactly blessed."
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Written by BellaGRN7.
Category:Fallout