DISCLAIMER: i wrote this like four years ago and both my oc and my writing are atrocious. read at your own risk!
𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐓𝐏𝐑𝐅. | ❛play me, and i'll
play you back ❜
or in which Brooklyn Hargreeves is bulletproof and...
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CHAPTER SEVEN I LOVE YOU'S, ( and broken promises ! )
GLOSSY TEARS BLURRED brooklyn's eyesight for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days, as her feet padded against the pavement of the large yet empty household.
the two mysterious assassins had wandered off, being led away by luther's antics — something unknown and irrelevant to the strawberry blonde.
she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that the living nightmare that's been hunting her, the reason why she was doomed with such terrific childhood, it was all just one of reginald's cruel jokes.
her hand clutched tightly around the stray piece of paper like a lifeline, while her knuckles turned white from all the pressure. at that moment, she was past the grieving.
her tears had ran dry, her sobs had calmed in a sea of turbulence, her mind had buzzed and come to a halt, but her heart continued to beat uncontrollably against her chest.
she remembered the confusion and grief that had engulfed her as the assassin whose hands held the blood of her very own mother, had accused the woman who gave her birth of something unspeakable.
it was all lies. her mother had been innocent. just a pure and sweet soul deemed to depart sooner rather than later.
and it was all that cruel and despicable man's fault, her mother was just another pawn at his malicious game.
that reality tore at brooklyn, as she fought to keep her actions at bay. her one hand wrapped around the tortured and now crumbled paper, her other gripping tightly the only object to remind her of her mother's faint memory.
a silver locket shaped like a heart. golden streaks covered its surface and a slick silky chain hung loosely from a loop hole on top of the item. there, also, appeared to be an opening.
a small crack on the surface that unraveled a course of tormented memories and a beautiful story of a woman whose life had been abruptly ended way too early, for vain.
inside the locket, was a picture of a gracious woman with stormy eyes and long luscious blonde hair holding an infant just above a month old — sleeping silently in her arms, in its' true home.
a mixture of anger and disbelief pounced at her heart, hoping to avenge for such a terrible loss.
though, another part of her, the sane and void part of her, told her not to. it held her back from doing unspeakable things, committing coldblooded crimes.
