SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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a novel approach
Her stomach churned as she approached the tall metal gates, fiddling with the sleeves of a light pink sweater she wore. Deep down, she had a feeling that she would come to regret this decision she had made, it wasn't the smartest one she could admit, but at least it was hers. And that was more than what could be said for the rest of her life at the moment.
The bite had healed, and though she had tried to avoid looking at it, and herself in general, she'd caught a glimpse of it while getting dressed for the first time since leaving the hospital when she had locked herself in her room with the request that nobody sees her, nor talk to her. Perhaps in a few days, she would want to talk to them again and begin the process of learning control, all of them knew that time would have to come. She couldn't learn it on her own, she had considered it, but it wasn't possible. As it stood, she had no interest in accepting what had happened to her, she wasn't prepared to just move on from it and make the most of the life that was made for her.
Perhaps the man she had come to visit could give her some perspective.
Even she was surprised that in her time of need it would be her father whom she turned to. Just a few months ago she shivered at the mention of his name, reminded of his betrayal, no matter how much he had told them it was for the sake of his daughters, it was a betrayal. Kinsey tried to put that aside in her mind, she didn't have much else right now, there was nobody else to talk to besides him. Chris was still on his hunt for her mother with the Calaveras. Derek claimed to be in South America, but if she knew anything about her cousin, by now he would be somewhere else, perhaps something had claimed his attention, dragging him to another place. She hadn't called him yet to announce her news, it didn't seem like news that should be announced, and not on a phone call, it would bring him straight back to Beacon Hills. And even she didn't want to be here right now let alone him or Chris, who was still yet to find out his niece had died two nights ago. It was all a part of her grieving process. When she had come to terms with it herself, then perhaps it would be time to tell those she loved about it.
She walked through the cold halls of the building, following one of the orderlies, her skin was crawling just being here, she had heard plenty of things about this place and what happens in it. She had been here before, but somehow it became creepier every time. She could envision all of the things that Malia and Stiles had told her. This seemed like the last place someone like her should have been, had they found out about what she was, they would do what Gerard did to her grandmother all those years ago. She would become a test subject, trying to figure out all of the things that made her as "rare" and "special" as everyone claimed she was. She didn't tell them that she was coming to visit her father, only that she was one of the people who'd put him in this place, the less detail, the better.
"You should stay outside of the cell." The orderly warned her as they stopped outside of Peter's cell, the girl lingered down the hall, not quite having caught up to the orderly, she had been too focused on looking around Eichen House, peering into the cells where all kinds of supernatural creatures stared back at her, some reaching out to touch her, driven stir crazy by their time in a mental institution staring at the same four walls. "He can be a little... feral." The orderly added, the brunette found her way to the entrance of her father's cell, she stood looking at him, Peter kept his head down, uninterested in whoever had come to see him.
