~Better because I'm better now~
Waverly sat, back against the chair with her knees drawn up against her chest. Eyes closed. The gun, a gift, was situated in her right hand. It didn't hold many bullets. She figured she couldn't miss when she was aiming for her own head.
There was apprehension, of course. Had she been thinking about it she would have come to the conclusion that everyone was apprehensive when it came to these sorts of things. It wasn't as if she wanted to die. Far from it. She only wanted her father's acceptance. She wanted him to understand, and she wanted everything to stop.
Her eyes tightened shut more as she shook her head. Lose red-golden tendrils fell over her shoulders as she did so. No, no she couldn't think about it. Remembering hurt. Remembering was why it needed to end; why it needed to stop. All she could think about was him.
She was useless. A failure; she'd always been a failure in his eyes. She'd only wanted to make him happy. To show him something that only she could do. It wasn't enough. It was never enough for him. She'd taken mother away. She'd ruined everything.
Her hands were shaking. Of course they would. Everything was falling apart around her and there was only one way out.