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[i]You don't get it.[/i]

[i]What do ya have to lose when you've got everythin' to gain?[/i]

Alja laughed.

"[color=d1fffc]Well, glad you think of me that highly. But I'm...I'm not all that, really.[/color]" 

Her eyes fell a little bit. When she spoke again, it was most unlike her: halting and hesitant. "[color=d1fffc]Really, I'm terrible. I promise. Not worth trying to help. Can I...if I told you a story, Graves, would you listen?[/color]" She turned away, staring at the cistern, and continued without letting him cut in. "[color=d1fffc]It's about...an Edinburgh girl, and how she became who she is. This—[i]mess[/i] of failures and mistakes.[/color]"

She took one more deep breath. "[color=d1fffc]Once upon a time, in Edinburgh, there was a twelve year old girl.[/color]" Her face, unseen to Graves, was twisted up tight, holding back as much emotion as she could. Her voice was tight and strained. "[color=d1fffc]She lived with her mother Elaine, her father Connor, and her...her brother. Gavin. He was five years her elder.[/color]" Her fists clenched tight at her sides, and she lifted them, lifting up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. "[color=d1fffc]This girl loved her parents very much, of course, but it was her brother that she loved the most. He was a super nice guy. Always had time for her. Never too busy to help her with her English homework, or to cut up an apple for this [i]little brat.[/i][/color]" The last words were spat with absolute venom, and Alja paused a moment to compose herself.

"[color=d1fffc]Then, one day, when their parents were out shoppin', someone came into the house. Gavin peeked out through a door, and a look of horror came onto his face. He shoved her into the closet of the room they shared in their small apartment, locked it, and whispered to her: [i]Whatever you do, Kelly, do NOT come out until I tell you to, okay?[/i] He paused. [i]I love you.[/i][/color]"

A shaky breath, less controlled than before. "[color=d1fffc]So she...so she didn't. She stayed in that closet. And through a crack in the door, I—she—[/color]" Her chest began to heave. "[color=d1fffc]—watched as...his...he had a gun, and Gavin—and I didn't—I couldn't—his head—[/color]"

And then again, she laughed.

But not her normal laugh this time. Not a nice laugh; a boisterous one, or a gentle one. It was a harsh, grating death-rattle of a sound, filled with scorn and anger.

"[color=d1fffc]I watched—I watched it. I watched him die. And I...I sat in a closet. And I did [i]nothing.[/i][/color]"

She laughed harder.

She was still laughing when the first tear trickled down her cheeks, opening a little rivulet of clear skin across her filthy face. Then, at some point—she wasn't quite sure when—the laughing gave over to crying. She wept openly, not even trying to wipe the tears away. For the next few minutes, she simply sat there, knees pulled up to her torso, head in her hands. Her chest heaved as sobs wracked it. At some point, the waterfall petered out, leaving a pregnant silence into which she poured her pent-up emotion.

At length, her breath hitched, and her crying shuddered to a halt. She turned her head, smiled lamely at Graves, her eyes still laden. And when she spoke, her voice was quieter, and seemed much younger than before.

"[color=d1fffc]I—I'm sorry...[/color]"

[i]Powerless. Useless. Worthless.[/i]

And then she was stricken by another set of sobs. She collapsed sideways, clutching Graves' armored shoulder and pressing her forehead to it, and [i]wailed[/i] like a lost child.

"[color=d1fffc][b][i]I'M SORRY![/i][/b][/COLOR]"