"I killed her, Edmund. As surely as if I tore her throat out myself. She looked to me to teach her what she needed to know, and now she's dead. If it's not my fault, whose fault is it?"
The rain was beginning to make her cold, sapping the remaining heat out of Julianna's muscles. Was she wallowing unnecessarily, blaming herself when no one else did? Was she that in need of control? She had always structured her life in a certain way. And she was genuinely devastated over this particular death, sad and angry at the same time. How much of her guilt was based on something real? She couldn't let herself think about that.
"There was a book that she enjoyed, something I lent her," the Watcher said, keeping her grip on her old friend's hand. "The compiled works of Plato. It suited her sense of logic. I made sure she'd be buried with it."
At the grave, the hole was slowly being filled with wet earth, the shoveling made difficult by the rain. Julianna made a choked, broken noise as she watched them finish burying her. "I loved her..."
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ninetydegrees
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on 2013-10-13 01:26 am (UTC)The rain was beginning to make her cold, sapping the remaining heat out of Julianna's muscles. Was she wallowing unnecessarily, blaming herself when no one else did? Was she that in need of control? She had always structured her life in a certain way. And she was genuinely devastated over this particular death, sad and angry at the same time. How much of her guilt was based on something real? She couldn't let herself think about that.
"There was a book that she enjoyed, something I lent her," the Watcher said, keeping her grip on her old friend's hand. "The compiled works of Plato. It suited her sense of logic. I made sure she'd be buried with it."
At the grave, the hole was slowly being filled with wet earth, the shoveling made difficult by the rain. Julianna made a choked, broken noise as she watched them finish burying her. "I loved her..."