05-25-2010, 03:17 PM
[html]
we can speedyspeedy finish dis, once you're back :o 300+
She could see the effect that the rivers cascading down her face had on him. Even if her words had fallen on deaf ears, her tears reached him. Her tears made him see how much damage he had done. For her whole life the girl had believed that no matter what anyone else did, her family would always be there for her. That they would always be on her side and would never do anything that would cause her any substantial amount of pain. With the revelation of what had occurred between her uncle and that woman though, that paradigm of her life had fallen apart at the seams and she had felt herself coming apart as well. If you couldn't depend on your family, then who could you depend on? Even at her age she knew that you couldn't fix everyone's problems. You couldn't right everyone's wrongs. In her mind, if it came down to protecting a friend, a friend that had caused the injustice, and protecting your family, the family should always win. He had tried to have his cake and eat it too, and now the family was suffering because of it.
Cambria was glad, at least, that he acknowledged that he didn't know what she had been through. That he couldn't truly understand how much she hurt. If he had tired to say he knew she would have lost whatever small spec of respect she still held for him. He didn't though, and so that small respect was allowed to stay in her heart. It didn't mean she forgave him yet, but she didn't totally dismiss him either. She let him speak, the unsteadiness of her legs finally overcoming her and she sat down. Her eyes didn't focus on him, she looked at the wall, but she still listened. She wasn't sure what else to do or say. Her goal, if she had had one at all, was to make him see what he had done to her. To make him understand that he couldn't do what he had done without severely hurting the people that had trusted him. Maybe what he had done hadn't been completely wrong, but it hadn't been completely right either.
A pained silence engulfed them, and she let it drag on for a few minutes before taking another shaky breath into her lungs. "I can't forgive you," she said softly. "Not yet, anyway." Honestly she didn't know if she ever could, but it certainly wasn't going to happen right now. Her eyes stayed averted and she was drained by the vortex of emotion that had consumed her.
She could see the effect that the rivers cascading down her face had on him. Even if her words had fallen on deaf ears, her tears reached him. Her tears made him see how much damage he had done. For her whole life the girl had believed that no matter what anyone else did, her family would always be there for her. That they would always be on her side and would never do anything that would cause her any substantial amount of pain. With the revelation of what had occurred between her uncle and that woman though, that paradigm of her life had fallen apart at the seams and she had felt herself coming apart as well. If you couldn't depend on your family, then who could you depend on? Even at her age she knew that you couldn't fix everyone's problems. You couldn't right everyone's wrongs. In her mind, if it came down to protecting a friend, a friend that had caused the injustice, and protecting your family, the family should always win. He had tried to have his cake and eat it too, and now the family was suffering because of it.
Cambria was glad, at least, that he acknowledged that he didn't know what she had been through. That he couldn't truly understand how much she hurt. If he had tired to say he knew she would have lost whatever small spec of respect she still held for him. He didn't though, and so that small respect was allowed to stay in her heart. It didn't mean she forgave him yet, but she didn't totally dismiss him either. She let him speak, the unsteadiness of her legs finally overcoming her and she sat down. Her eyes didn't focus on him, she looked at the wall, but she still listened. She wasn't sure what else to do or say. Her goal, if she had had one at all, was to make him see what he had done to her. To make him understand that he couldn't do what he had done without severely hurting the people that had trusted him. Maybe what he had done hadn't been completely wrong, but it hadn't been completely right either.
A pained silence engulfed them, and she let it drag on for a few minutes before taking another shaky breath into her lungs. "I can't forgive you," she said softly. "Not yet, anyway." Honestly she didn't know if she ever could, but it certainly wasn't going to happen right now. Her eyes stayed averted and she was drained by the vortex of emotion that had consumed her.