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THE NOTATION OF Wynona Moore is as follows: She was a master of backflipping off of the swing in her backyard by age six, which her Mother would always have a hissy fit over because it was dangerous, and little girls shouldn't do dangerous things. But her Dad, would say that it was totally rad and that she shouldn't listen to Mom because she doesn't know what she's talking about.
Then, by age eight, Wynona Moore had managed to learn to play chess like a pro. After her Mom died there wasn't really anything to do around the house anymore, and so she decided that learning to play chess would be a good way to pass the time. It wasn't really a skill that helped her in any way, but she was proud that she learned all on her own.
Age ten is where things finally start to get interesting, her first kill. It wasn't anything big, just a rabbit that she killed whilst hunting with her Dad in the woods by her house. But the satisfaction of watching the life leave it's pathetic little body was something Wynona would never forget. For a brief moment she felt bad, like she had done something wrong, but the look on her Dad's face made all of that go away in an instant. He was proud. She remembers him clapping a hand onto her bony shoulder and telling her well done, kid. The praise was nice, but not as nice as the kill.
I guess it's true what they say, you never forget your first kill.
When she was fourteen, her Dad decided to re-marry, and Wynona absolutely hated her new Step-Mom, Kat. Kat was much younger than Wynona's Dad, and she could easily pass as Wynona's older sister, which always pissed off Wynona. Kat was a brat. She was needy, and rude, and arrogant. There was a time when Wynona tried to get along with Kat, for her Dad's sake, but she made it practically impossible with her attitude.
Wynona hadn't thought about killing somebody until she met Kat.
The ticking of the clock in the corner of her therapists room snaps her out of her thoughts, and she glared toward the object.
"Wynona?" Her therapist asks, tapping her pen on the desk to try and get her attention.
"Hm?" Wynona hums.
"How have you been this week?" She asks, giving Wynona a tight lipped smile.
"Fine," She shrugs.
"Just fine?" Jane presses, scribbling nonsense down into her notepad.
"Yep, just fine," Wynona conforms with a nod of her head.
People like Jane anger Wynona. They like to pretend that they care, because it's what they're payed to do, but the second you lash out, or act irrationally, or on impulse, you're suddenly a monster and un-human.
"Well, that's good," Jane nods her head. "What about the goals you made, have you accomplished any of those?"
"A few," I don't think we're talking about the same goals, though. Is what Wynona wants to say with a smile. Her smile is razor sharp, and almost doesn't look normal, like there's something not quite right with it.
