Each word that fell from Daniel's lips was yet another parasite of doubt that dug it's spurs into her, worming their way past the seemingly indestructible facade of strength and apathy that shrouded the girl. Each coaxing encouragement or sliver of hope handed to her broke her down, whispered promises of a new life, a new her and brought them ever closer to existence. There was a battle raging inside of her, a battle between the bitter twisted version and the - much younger - innocent version of herself. That version was that of a girl who also carried the load of difference and exile, but still had that ounce of belief in people, in herself - that they could change and be better. That still hoped that people were good.
Tinsley was quiet for a long time, her lips pursed as she picked absently at the edge of her sleeve. Images flashed behind dark - once expressive - glazed eyes. Images of the faces that haunted her sleep and her days, the faces she'd see when she closed her eyes and those that she would catch glimpses of staring at her solemnly as elevator doors closed. Faces that were no longer of this world, but chased her in hers. The faces of those she had killed, of those she kills and of those she would inevitably kill. Always with same question in their eyes, burning like brimstone; why? Why them, why now, why her? It was that same question that used to fill her with a perverted type of glee, that feeling that used to fill the gaping hole in her chest, that made it easier for her to breath as the days trudged on. Because she could. Because she felt like it. Because she was told. Because she liked it.
But that feeling had worn off. It had mutated into a weary type of melancholy, an anchor that she dragged behind her, everyday of her life. Getting increasingly heavier as the days, weeks, years past. People dropping like flies into the wake of chaos that was her life. She killed because that's all she knew, all she knew was destruction, relationships, lives, they all merge into one. If destruction was all she knew, then her life molded to becoming good at it, and she was, she was magnificent at it. Tinsley York didn't do anything by halves at that included murder. But know what was her life, could she even call it a life? It more likely resembled the shell of one. How long had it been since she had smiled and felt it, really felt it, that buzzing glow of happiness that started in the very core of you and spread to your toes, fingertips and the tip of your nose. Five years? More than.Â
Tinsley knew that she was bad, because no matter how much she tired, she couldn't not like killing people. Not in the sense of enjoying taking someones life so much, but at the fulfillment of a purpose. The prize at the end of a long hard chase. A quiet predator stalking her prey and then taking the target by the throat. She supposed it was the power that she held in that moment, that moment where she had someones life in her small hand and the power to crush it - if she so chose. Power did things to people. There was only one thing that was comparable to it... Healing. Tinsley had been given two gifts, the ability to detriment someones health, and to restore it. When Tinsley healed someone she was giving them a sliver of her soul, her very essence. It was a toll on her own physicality that she had to pay when she brought someone back from the brink of death. But what was priceless was the indescribable feeling she felt when she saw what she could do when she wanted. That bright glowing light, that she saw, that rolled off of her and the person or people she was saving. It filled her up with the utmost peace and serenity, like she was untouchable, invincible...perfect.
A sob bubbled up from deep within her and expelled itself from her lips, it shook the very foundation of her being. She longed for that perfect feeling, for that serenity and peace. That happiness. All she had ever longed for was to be happy, and what Daniel was suggesting could well bring her that - if she could just find it in her to let go of her past, of this thing that was holding her back. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore..." her voice cracked in multiple places, her chest felt like it was caving in. "I don't know who I am." Tinsley shook her head as if she could rid herself of these traitorous feelings and go back to the void she had lived in before Daniel had literally popped into it. "I can't...I don't know how to feel. I don't know how to be-be...me." She couldn't look at him, she was too ashamed at her weakness.Â
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