Sin

Myst comes to terms with something she's been holding inside.

Imperfect

Possessing flaws and weaknesses of a human, incomparable to a machine or divine being. Saying this meant no one was liken unto a God or Goddess. Thinking this about herself was acceptence, Myst realized moments after the thoughts passed through her head. Another convoluted definition as well. Flaws consequently fall into three categories; physical, mental, or personal, and no one addresses that about themselves. No one but her.

Embodiment

The purest or near perfect example. Saying this was to compare oneself to a divine being. Was this a horrid sin? To compare yourself to a heavenly being? Or could a better translation be typical? Is Hope typical? For a being, or better yet, ‘creature’ that possesses no sense of normalcy, She couldn’t possibly be typical, and couldn't be accused of being so.

Myst pondered this as she watched William sleep in her lap. She was leaned up against the bar with the young werewolf snuggled against her like she was a pillow. His mother had dropped him on her less then an hour ago. The young child was innocent.

Innocence

The state, quality, or virtue of being innocent, Freedom from sin, moral wrong, or guilt through lack of knowledge of evil. William was as such. Myst was not. No matter how hard she believed that she was in fact innocent, she was not. She had blood on her hands. Blood she had spilled out of pleasure, not protection. William whimpered in his sleep and snuggled closer, his ear resting just below her collar bone so his sensitive ears could hear the beating of her heart. He was such a perfect being.

Perfect

Lacking nothing essential to the whole; complete of its nature or kind.
Being without defect or blemish. Perfection and innocence fell hand in hand. Without one the other would fail to exist, and vice versa. Good and evil, light and dark. One had the other within itself. Within all things rested a dark half bellied within the light. Even Saints sinned. Whether they chose to share the knowledge was another thing. Myst sighed and let her cheek rest against the child's soft hair. Tears slid down her pale face as she thought more about how her life went to hell in just a few years. She had been alive longer then two men put together, and still she knew not of Infinite Wisdom. Her whole body was racked with silent sobs as she pulled the boy closer, nestling her face in his dark hair. Tiny strands clung to her damp face when she pulled away to place a kiss upon his forehead. Perfection, innocence. This child was the embodiment of it. Not a single imperfection to beheld.

From where they sat together on the floor, Myst could see anyone that entered the room, her watery gaze fastened on the people's feet that shifted about. She sat partically hidden by the bar as she leaned against it. William stirred slightly, his tiny nose sniffling the air with delicate motions like a flower in a spring breeze. Opening his golden eyes, the youngster ran his small, akward hands along her cheeks as if to ask why she shed water so. Smiling she pressed the palm of his flat to her face, closing her eyes. So innocent. So perfect. He couldn't say a word of hatred or evil, love or happiness. William clambered down from her lap and rolled across the floor playing with the car he had curled in his tiny fist. Myst stood using the bar to suppost herself as she did so. She felt old. Older then dirt itself. Maybe it was managing this child so full of life and spunk that got her down.

Sighing, she took her usual seat at the bar turning to watch the young boy play. He was running the car in circles making small noises that signified the motor. She smiled fondly. He was like her daughter Katie that she lost along with her husband Aeris. They had been trapped and slaughtered like cattle. Myst rubbed her dark eyes and yawned a little, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a pair of hip hugging jeans that were dark like her hair, a matching dress shirt and a white tie. Everything but the jeans and under clothes were Aeris's. He was in the past now as was everything that happened then.

Guilt

The state of one who has committed an offense especially consciously. Feelings of culpability especially for imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy. That was the definition for what she was still feeling. It described her perfectly. Nothing could be said to stifle the feelings of inner hatred, pain and self loathing. Nothing. Physical harm could be done to her but that was just her body that siffered. The pain inside was far worse then anything that the body could ever accumulate. The only thing that kept her sane was William and God forbid if anyone harmed the young were-child. She would do them harm. Kill them if she had to. She would rip them limb from limb and laugh as they squirmed, pleaded, begged for their lives. She would watch them drown in their own blood before ripping out their heart and feeding it to the wolves. Myst sighed again before going to join him on the floor, stretching out on her belly next to him. The two of them played cars together all the time. His mother said it was his favorite thing to do.

"If only we had more people to play with us, Willy Billy. Then we would have even more fun, huh?"

She cooed at the boy, pressing a finger to the tip of his nose. He smiled widely and looked back down at the car making the woman giggle. She laughed in earnest like she hadn't in a long time. It felt remarkable.

Author's Note

A short blurb with a few mistakes. Critique is welcomed.