Flashback 213: Adjusting Part 3 -Christina-

"Hey, do you think you could go to the store?"

I laid the controller on the floor and pulled myself to my feet, "I guess. There's no more milk anyway." I stopped at the door as I grabbed my coat, "I think I'm going to grab a candy bar."

"Cookies n' Cream?" He stood and walked over to me. Placing his hands on my waist, he leaned in.

"Of course." I kissed him lightly and then slipped out the door.

As I made my way down the stairs I slipped on my coat. Almost a year had passed since he'd found me in that store and saved my life, but I still wasn't used to any display of affection yet. He was probably the only person that could get away with anything with out losing a limb, but normally even a hug put me on edge. I swooped down to grab an empty can off the street and looked ahead for a source of disposal. There it was, about five blocks away was a nearly full trash can that had just enough room.

Two children that I'd seen here before stopped to stare at me as they always did. I didn't like children and found enjoyment in making their jaws drop. At least it stopped them from staring. I pulled my arm back and threw the can with as much force as I could muster.

A loud boom was heard as the can zipped through the air, smashed in to the diamond grating of the trash can and stuck there. I glanced at the children and grinned at the way their mouths hung.

"Remember, pick up your trash." Then I turned and continued my way to the store.

I don't ever want things to be the way they had been at the academy again. I was never free to do things that I wanted to. I was trained to fight and never anything else. He had taken the time to teach me that the world wasn't just a terrible place where war ruled. He taught me to let my guard down enough to enjoy the world around me. He showed me a sunset for the first time and then taught me how to walk to the beach so I could see it again at anytime.

Video games. He gave me them so that I could relieve my anger in a way that wasn't a felony. I was a master at almost every one he put in front of me except Super Smash Bros. Brawl; I could never beat him in that no matter how many times I forced him to miss work so that we could keep going. He was right though, I didn't feel like punching anything that moved. I was even okay with people accidentaly touching me, and I didn't think of humans as lower than myself. In fact, I had come to realize that they had became the reigning species not because of an accident, but because they deserved it. I found myself feeling proud about their accomplishments, almost as if they were my own; as if I were human.

The shop owner was sitting outside of the store and as I approached he waved, "Well, how are you this morning?"

I returned the wave, "I'm just here to grab some milk and maybe some of those delicious candy bars of yours."

"That's good, I got a new shipment today. Just go inside, Darrel will take care of you."

I stepped in the store and walked to the milk. One thing I really loved about humans was the invention of air conditioning, which this place had neglected in purchasing. My candy bars were probably melted. I carried the milk to the front register and grabbed three cookies n' cream bars.

"Christina! Hey, How's the man?" That's what Darrel referred to him as, probably because they once played games together and Darrel was so bad that I had to look away.

" I think he's okay, he seems happy." I shrugged. Human emotions still confused me a lot. I could never tell the difference between happy and indifferent, but I tried to pretend I understood.

"Well, we should get together sometime. I've been practicing."

"Let me see your hands." I leaned over the counter as he raised his fingers.

The wear from playing games was nowhere on his fingers and not a single controller blister could be seen. I leaned back and laughed at him, "Not enough practice, but I'll see when he has time for you."

"Oh come on, you always say that."

"And you always lose." I grabbed the change from the counter and smiled as I walk past the store owner.

I enjoyed this life we'd made. I was smiling when we were together and peaceful when we were apart. I loved walking to the store and making dinner when I brought it home. My favorite movie at the moment was Mrs. Doubtfire, and I enjoyed the band Poets Of the Fall more than any other band out there. I didn't have to worry about having my life in danger at every moment of the day, which was more relaxing than I had thought it would be.

I turned the corner on to my street and I knew something was off. Ahead of me stood three people, a tall dark skinned man, a small child with a look of fear on her face and then there was him. He was defending the child. I knew it because that was the kind of person he was. He would do what ever he could to help someone and even some things that he couldn't do. He'd helped me because I looked like I didn't belong, and he didn't even crack a smile as I told him all about my life. He was the kind of person who was born to be the hero, even though he wasn't built for it.

The air was wrong. This situation was wrong, and as I dropped the milk to run over I noticed what it was. The man he was defending the girl from was a fairy and the young girl was anything but. As I raced toward him the girl lifted up in to the air, attached by a thin string of muscle to the man. It was its tail and he was their prey.

The tail grabbed him tight, restricting his movements and the fairy swung its arm straight through his chest. I was close enough to smell the blood, as the fairy raised the heart of the only person I truly cared about to his mouth and bit down.

"This one was good. Very . . . defiant, and strong. He was very tasty on my tongue." He hadn't realized that I was closing in, but he would soon.

The rage flowed forward, unlike anything I'd ever felt. In mere seconds everything that I'd learned had been torn to shreds in front of me. There was no amount of gaming that was going to release this tension. I knew of only one way to make the pain go away and I wasn't even sure if that would work. I felt empty and I filled the emptiness with rage. All the pain and suffering I was feeling slid along until it rested at the edge of my fist. For some reason I felt that would make my fist swing faster, hit harder; I felt that it would erase the emptiness once the rage was gone. I knew I was wrong.

"HIS NAME . . . " I was running full force as I pulled back my fist. The creature finally noticed me but it was very late, and it knew it.

I swung my fist forward with a force that left my ears ringing, "WAS SAMUEL!"

I felt the fairy's surprised face vaporize as my hand collided with its head. Fairy blood sprayed across the buildings along the street as the creature's body hit the ground. The tail screamed and tried to run, but was stopped by the weight of the body. I flicked my wrist, cleaning it of the blood and leaving a light, red stain in its place.

The fairy tail screamed as I crushed its head with my boot, but I didn't care. Samuel was dead.