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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Kinsey Argent fiddled with the lock to her apartment, her hands still shaking with anxiety. Lately, the girl had found herself unsettled. Perhaps it was the thought of knowing what was happening to her best friend, and with it, the waiting around for the appropriate time to commence the hell of a plan they had created to break her out of there. Or could it be the giant beast rampaging the town? Her hands continued shaking as she tried to find the keyhole, missing it every time until a hand wrapped around hers, steadying it as the brunette took a deep, composing herself as they successfully unlocked the apartment door. Neither spoke as they opened the door, greeted by a dark, narrow hallway that seemed to wash a feeling of emptiness over the two of them.
It had been weeks since Kinsey had moved back into the apartment, months since she had been able to come back here without breaking down at the threshold of the door. They had all been in the apartment since, in and out as though there was no connection between this dark hall and a bad memory. It didn't always hit her, often, she managed to subside the thought. But while she had shut the door to thinking about Lydia, something else had snuck through another.
She stared down the hallway, her eyes landing on the open door at the end of the hallway, that room was out of bounds, in a sense, nobody wanted to go in there, or near it for that matter. It wasn't necessary. It was often forgotten about completely. Until a moment of weakness. Like a moment the brunette felt herself having now.
After all this time, Kinsey still couldn't help but how different things could have been if she was still here. If she still had Allison. Maybe they would all be living a much different life. She didn't doubt that trouble would still follow them, it always had, even before they realized, but maybe it would be easier to navigate with her around.
Isaac placed a hand on the huntress's shoulder, she took a deep breath, the touch bringing her some comfort as she rested her head on his arm, for a moment the two stood still in the silence of the empty apartment, looking at the door straight ahead. She would have had Lydia out, you know, the brunette girl mumbled under her breath. She would have never let her go in there in the first place, she added. With that thought, and the disappointment in herself, Kinsey stepped into the apartment, placing her keys on the table in the foyer, sighing heavily again.
The Lahey boy pulled the girl into a hug, reminding her that it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help Lydia, she hadn't been allowed to, what was important was that they were going to help her now by breaking her out of that place and ensuring that she was safe again. Despite the reassurance it was hard for the girl to believe it, it always felt like there was more she could do, for Lydia or all of the other people in her life. As if her attempts always felt short of the mark.
"She was always better at this than me," Kinsey said wistfully. "She was a natural at everything. I can't be like that, Isaac. It's a miracle I'm still here now." The girl said honestly as she looked up at the werewolf who was surprised by the sudden confession. "If Allison was here she would find a way to make everything right. None of this would have ever happened."
