1st Person POV

One month later and the prison cell still hadn't quite grown on me. I heard the groans of other inmates as they stirred from sleep. I'd already been awake.

I was always awake.

I tried to tell myself that it was because I didn't trust anyone in this prison to not hurt me in my sleep. I needed to be awake to protect myself. But the truth was that I was afraid.

I was afraid that I'd wake up surrounded by bodies.

I'd lost trust in other people because I'd lost trust in myself. My soul was stained, filthy, and I couldn't fix it. And so I breathed, I ate and I moved like was really alive.

I was just glad Cassius, Azriel and Desmond weren't around to witness the pathetic state I'd reduced myself to.

Once the battle had ended, prominent members of the supernatural community had gathered for a meeting to discuss the aftermath. For the werewolves, it had been pack leaders in the area. Cassius had testified against his father and with supporting testimonies, his whole family had landed in prison until further notice.

For the vampires, different clans sent forth their leaders. Desmond was part of the Uris Clan but he wasn't important enough to attend the meeting despite all he'd done. The warlocks didn't have clans or packs so those directly connected with the issue were allowed to attend the meeting. Over fifty warlocks had shown up, including Azriel and Rafia.

Shapeshifters worked the same way as the warlocks did and I would have been at that meeting, if I were still shapeshifter.

It hurt so much that it became hard to breathe when I remembered the wind rustling my wings as an eagle, the solid ground beneath my paws as I raced through the woods in my favorite form and the beautiful magic I'd wielded at my fingertips as one of the most powerful shapeshifters of my age. One batch of chemicals had turned me from a protector to someone that had to be protected.

But I could have handled that pain, mended with time until shifting became a distant memory if it weren't for all I'd done.

I'd killed forty-two innocent people. I'd drawn out their deaths, tortured them in the worst possible ways and savored it all. I remembered each one and beneath closed lids, they were all I saw.

Some of them had been as young as sixteen.

I couldn't live with that. I didn't deserve to live with that just as much as they hadn't deserved to die. On those dark nights, when those faces became too haunting, when their cries had me shaking and crying in the corner of the cell apologizing to nothing but air, I hated this dark, dingy cell the most.

I needed light, I needed air and I needed to breath.

Yesterday night had been one of those nights when the real world had faded and phantom ghosts had broken me over and over again. In the faint light of day, I was numb. A cell guard came forward and pushed a plate of rice and beans through the slats in the cell.

I ate it because I had to but I'd forgotten what it felt like to want to do things anymore.

My thoughts were particularly depressing today, considering it had been a month. It was an anniversary of sorts. My mind flashed back to that dreadful meeting that had sealed my fate.

According to Azriel, the vampire clans and the warlocks had been the most rational and fair. They'd wanted anyone found dealing the drug to be punished with jail time and argued for a more brutal punishment of anyone that had been found manufacturing it. The werewolves had been more abrasive; calling for more than just jail time for those that dealt the drug. The shapeshifters wanted jail-time for anyone associated with the drug because they were afraid those that had been infected would relapse.

My kind had actually sold me out and once the seed of fear had been planted, not even Rafia Hamilton could sway the crowd from putting any and all away that had ever been touched by the drug.

In the sanctity of Rafia's office later, the boys had shouted their complaints, crying at its unfairness, but I didn't partake in it. After all, it was jail. As long as no one shoved chemicals down my throat again I was fine.

More like I couldn't bring myself to care.

I'd been taken away the next day alongside Theo, Alex and several others. It had been a month since then and we hadn't even been offered so much as visitation rights. I couldn't say I was surprised.

Fear was powerful like that, after all I even feared myself at this point.

"Catherine."

I looked up at Theo. He sat in the cell across from mine, cross-legged. His black hair had grown so long that it almost covered his eyes, and he'd become even lankier since our time in jail.

I probably looked ten times worse so I didn't comment.

"What is it," I asked.

"Do you think if we asked for red paint to spruce up these cell walls, they'd show enough mercy to give it to us," he asked sarcastically.

His humor had taken a sharp turn and it only became sharper by the day. It might have annoyed me before. Now, I partook in it, if only to keep the both of us relatively sane.

"Ask for red and they may send you to a psych ward for wanting to paint the walls in blood," I retorted.

"If I wanted to paint the cell walls with blood, I'd just use the blood on my hands," he bit back.

"Think you've got enough," I asked, staring down at my own fingers.

"Enough for this lifetime," he whispered.

I settled back against the cell wall more comfortably, leaning my head back to face the grey ceiling, the cracks on which I'd already committed to memory.

"I've got enough for forty-two lifetimes," I replied coolly.

We lapsed into a silence like we always did. Talking about all we'd done took effort but we both tried, even if we talked about it in a way that most people would consider unhealthy.

I'd told him how many people I'd killed, kept the tears at bay as I described the worst ones. He listened and didn't comfort me when I was done.

Instead he'd talk about himself and I listened and so continued our blackened days.

"Up! Everyone up!"

A deep male's voice boomed down the corridor. A tall man walked down the corridor with a long metal stick in his hand. He dragged it across the rods of the cells to wake up any inmates who were still sleeping.

Once everyone was awake, he produced a slip of paper from his pocket and read it aloud.

"You have been deemed stable enough to receive visitors," he said monotonously.

He folded up the chit of paper then, like he couldn't have memorized that one line without it, before disappearing out of sight. Doors opened in the distance and people were let in one by one. I recognized Talia running towards Maia's cell, and then being warned not to touch the bars of the cell as a precaution.

So they still did find us dangerous.

A pang went through my heart when Azriel stepped into the corridor followed by Cassius and Desmond. They scanned the cells hurriedly before Desmond spotted mine. They darted forward eagerly but they remained cautious, hesitant as they crouched before my cell, steering clear of the bars.

And I realized that I could still feel worse than I was already feeling, to consider the possibility that they might actually be afraid of me. I wouldn't blame them considering I had almost killed them.

A broken bed flashed through my mind and I gritted my teeth to force the image away. They were here, now, and surely that counted for something.

We hadn't talked much after I'd been cured of my bout of insanity. We'd had days before I'd been thrown in jail. During that time, Cassius had distanced himself from me.

He cared for his brother despite all that the despicable piece of trash had done and therefore, he couldn't even look me in the eye. Azriel had prepared himself for the council amongst the supernatural creatures alongside Rafia, believing it was what I needed. I didn't blame him.

I hadn't really known what I needed and a part of me still didn't.

Desmond had surprisingly tried the hardest. In the few days we'd had, he brought me food when I asked and had left me alone to cry when I wanted to. He hadn't pushed, hadn't asked anything more of me than what I was willing to give.

But he was there and that had been enough.

Now the three of them were crouched before me and none of us really knew what to say. Cassius still didn't look me in the eye, instead sitting behind Azriel and Desmond with a guilty look on his face. Azriel looked heartbroken for reasons I dreaded to find out. Desmond just stared at me, like he was trying to memorize my face.

"Something's wrong isn't it," I asked quietly.

I focused on Azriel, who didn't squirm under my gaze, but looked pained as he held it. He then bowed his head, like the pressure was too much. Cassius turned away, so his back faced me, and his shoulders shook.

What more could possibly go wrong after all of this?

"Tell me what's wrong or I'll assume the worst," I said.

If the operation had struck again with some new chemicals I was really going to lock myself in this cell forever.

"There was another meeting," Desmond started.

His voice was rough and brutal, preparing me for the worst.

"Are they executing us," I whispered.

Cassius turned at that in shock. His eyes glowed green like by saying the words, I'd summoned myself an executioner. Azriel glanced up; violet eyes holding back unshed tears.

He'd heard it, the way I'd said those words like I didn't even care. I wasn't suicidal. I wasn't going to end my life.

I just didn't have it in me to fight if someone said that I wasn't worth living. The voices in my nightmares told me the same thing every single night. It was hard enough ignoring them.

"No of course not," Cassius exclaimed.

I didn't really feel any relief and I wish I did just to wipe the horrified expression off of Azriel's face.

"So what's wrong," I asked.

"They're releasing everyone who's been infected into the human world. They'll keep tabs on you though," Desmond said.

The way he stumbled over the phrase human world had my eyes narrowing. And then it hit me. It only made sense after all.

Azriel confirmed it in the smallest of voices.

"None of you are allowed have contact with the supernatural world anymore. It's to keep you safe and to help you readjust," Azriel choked out.

I released a shuddering breath at that. I thought that I wouldn't care; like I hadn't cared for anything else but deep down I knew the truth. The only thing that kept me from completely spiraling was the part I still held in this world. It acted like a beacon and a reminder of who I'd been before everything had gone wrong.

And almost subconsciously I'd believed that being back around them and in this world long enough would help me claw my way back to who I'd been before.

"I tried fighting it. Rafia too but they said that since you were all human now, it was for the best," Azriel explained rapidly.

I held back the heavy sensation that settled over my heart, suffocating it. Maybe this was for the best. This could be a new start so I could finally embrace the fact that I wasn't really a part of this world anymore.

Maybe this was what I needed, even though it hurt to think about.

"How much longer do I have," I asked gravely.

"They'll start releases tomorrow," Desmond replied lowly.

I settled back against the grey wall of my cell with a thud. This hurt like hell and a part of me knew I deserved it. Hell I didn't even deserve this chance to remake myself when I'd taken forty-two innocent lives.

I looked at the boys again.

"This is a goodbye then isn't it," I asked.

There were tears dripping down Cassius' cheeks but he nodded. I collected myself as best as I could. I needed to say something but I couldn't say goodbye.

But that was the whole purpose of this final visit.

"I, I haven't been myself for the past month, at least not the person that you remember. I guess it's a good thing that I go away before you get to know this person I've become," I said roughly, laughing a little.

Like they'd want to know this person that I'd become.

My heart was constricting painfully but I pushed on.

"I killed forty-two people. I don't know if I told you that. I see their faces every night and on most nights I can't sleep. And it's driving me insane, in a different way than those chemicals did. I'm trying to become the person I was, or at least I say I am but the truth is I don't know how. Not when I see them every single night," I admitted in a small voice.

With Theo the words had rolled off my tongue because I knew he couldn't judge me. But these three boys who'd never spilt innocent blood before, they could judge me. They should.

And so each word came out quieter and quieter, until the heavy weight suffocating my voice finally choked me off.

They were all crying.

I just felt empty.

"I don't why I'm telling you any of this because it's just making you upset but I feel like I owe you that much, some kind of explanation because of what we could have been to each other. I don't really care about a lot of things anymore and for awhile I thought I didn't care about you but knowing that I can't see you again makes me realize how untrue that was," I said softly.

The guards at the end of the hallway were walking towards us, pointing at their watches, telling me to hurry up.

"I won't ever forget the three of you," I promised, voice wavering a little.

Turns out I still had tears to spill, still held pain that wanted to make itself heard.

The guards were there, telling them to leave. Azriel reached through the cell, squeezing my hand once before withdrawing. Cassius was crying too hard to really look at me. Desmond was just looking at me in disbelief, like he really couldn't believe that this was the last time we'd see each other.

Who knows, maybe he was right but for now, this was it.

A start to Part 2, with a first look at Catherine's inner torment and a seemingly final goodbye. She'll be in the human world soon. Do you think it'll be good for her? After all, she is human now. 

With Part 2 starting up in this book, I just wanted to give a slightly larger shoutout to everyone that's stuck by me through this book so far. To any of you that are writing your own books, don't hesitate to reach out to me if you want a shoutout, or any tips, not that I'm a professional by any means. If you're thinking about writing a book, I encourage you to do it, even if you don't think you write that well or you think your ideas aren't profound. This website's a great place to improve your writing without feeling pressured to present super polished work. In the beginning it can be really daunting. When I started writing Four Broken Pieces, and then this book, there was barely anyone reading it and it was hard to feel motivated. If you need someone to help you push through that initial hurdle, I'm here for you just like all of you guys are here for me. Together we could potentially write some of the best books that Wattpad has ever seen so give yourself a chance to put your work out into the world. Trust me. It's terrifying but it's totally worth it.

Now that my mini rant is over, let me know what your favorite part of Part 1 of this book was in the comments below. What are you looking forward to seeing in Part 2? Don't get forget to vote if you liked this chapter. The next chapter will be up soon. 

Until then, 

LOVE, 

ASH