It's starting to rain. I can feel the drops spatter against my skin and the grass around me as I lay here.
It's cold. Not physically, though. My heart is what's frozen. I have nothing good anymore.
The only emotions I have left are anger, hatred, and sorrow. I suppose it's just as well, considering what's happened. Only hours ago, they destroyed all the people I loved and everyting that ever mattered to me, while I watched helplessly.
I have nothing left but myself. And the need for revenge. Right now, revenge is the only reason I won't let myself die.
The rain is getting colder against my skin, pinpricks of ice that melt instantly. I know I should find shelter so I get up. But I can't stay here, in the place that I used to love so much. I don't want to. I'll have to walk; that's all there is to do to get away from here.
I go over to my older sister's body first. She's the only one that looks peaceful; it's because she knew I would live when she died. I hate her for that. I would rather have died too, than be alone like this.
My sister's long coat is beside her, tucked around one arm. I pull it away from her body and put it on. Then I move on to the bodies of the others, each in turn.
My younger sister and brother's bodies are huddled together, striking a gruesome death pose. Somehow, even in their horrible deaths, their innocence is still there. I hate them for that.
My father's body is almost unrecognizable. He fought until the end, trying to protect all of us. I hate him for that.
My mother's body only has a single mark on it: a slit across the throat. She had wanted the rest of us to die. She died happily and willingly, thinking she'd get her wish. I hate her for that.
The body of one of our attackers is here too. He's the only one that didn't make it out. I hate him for that. I wish for a moment that he were still alive, so that I could kill him. But wishes don't come true and I have to leave.
I turn around and start walking. As I go, I step through puddle after puddle of watered-down blood.
It's everywhere. Except on me. I don't have a single scratch. Not even a single drop of blood from any of my family landed on me. And I hate myself for it.
I don't deserve to live without blood on my hands. I don't deserve to live. I don't matter. My only purpose is death. My only reason for living is revenge. And I hate myself for it.
It makes me sick to think about it, but I won't allow myself to die until I've murdered them all. Those that murdered my family will all die, one way or another, by my hands. And I hate myself for it.
But hatred is what drives me now. And I will thrive on it until I have my vengeance.
I would like to thank my freind, my good freind Seirai she rocks for making this awsome story and letting me use it in the jounal i have she rocks! People who are reading this please comment on her stuff she likes comments alot lol blaugh
My name is Astaroth i am a demon and im here to kill all mortals!
