METANOIA- criminal minds

.𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

▆ weight of the world

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﹙were you missing me?﹚

mckenna grace — young verity forbes
young olivia holt — brooke

trigger warning; blood, mention of death.

THREE DAYS, FIVE HOURS, TWENTY-FOUR MINUTES AND THIRTY-SEVEN SECONDS.

That's all it took for Verity to comprehend why most people believe that solitary should be considered torture.

The only thing a person is left with is their thoughts.

Thoughts ready to dismember them, just like rabid dogs left wild in an arena.
And without a chance to run away to save themselves, the only choice a person has is to fight until their limbs fall lifeless on the ground at the mercy of their slayers.

The cage of the meanderings of her mind had been opened three days, two hours, forty minutes, and firty-eight seconds ago, and her body was starting to give up.

The flashes of a past she had buried deep in her memory were beginning to resurface as she squeezed her eyes, leaning her head on the cold wall in a vain attempt to block them out.

"Mom," the words left her mouth, a plea meant to be unheard since it left her lips.
Her knees buckled when her eyes took in the scene before them, and the blood scattered on the floor permeated her jeans, touching the pale skin under them.

Her sigh was blurred by the tears that had gathered in her eyes, her cheeks were stained with the ones that had already fallen.

Her still-pure hands reached for the wound that pierced her mother's chest. "No, no." She shook her head, falling on her back, the fabric of her clothes turning red, when she saw the shoes that belonged to her father emerge from behind the kitchen door.

Her salty lips parted, a strained sob escaping from them, her grimed hands wrapping around her neck as she gasped for the air that she couldn't find.

She doubled on herself, not able to keep herself sitting straight, the pain spiking through her stomach while the weight of the world came crashing on her shoulders.

Her body shook as the sobs left her mouth; blood smeared over it when she tried to muffle them with her hands.

She tried to comprehend what was happening, what had happened, but the truth was that she had no idea. They were gone, leaving nothing behind but her.

Her and–

"Brooke," she breathed, despite the agonizing wheezing of her lungs.

Her blonde hair swayed to the side as she searched for her sister, her heart clenching when she saw her frozen body at the entrance door behind her. "Brooke," she repeated, posing her hand on the floor to lift herself before slipping on the cold blood, her left arm giving in and making her collapse right beside her mother.

She met her lifeless ocean eyes, and her body shivered, bile rising in her throat. She felt frozen, her muscles not able to move as her gaze fell on the wound right in the center of her mother's forehead, which was barely covered by her blond bangs.

The time froze; her soul had left her body; she felt exhausted.

Her mind ran faster than she could comprehend as she tried to make sense of it all but came empty. All she wanted was to lie there until she could reconnect with them, both of them.

But then she came back to reality when a feeble voice reached her ears, a hand posing on her arm. She lifted her head, her heart clenching, seeing Brooke hovering over her, stretching her little hand for her to take.

Brooke didn't let out a sound when Verity brought herself up, ignoring the bloody hair sticking to her cheek, and engulfed her in a hug, shielding her from the tortured bodies of her parents. "Don't look," she whispered, burying her face in her platinum hair and stroking them with her hand, not caring about painting them crimson.

Verity felt her eyes dry up as more tears flooded them, but this time she didn't make a noise.
She needed to be strong; she was holding a four-year-old in her arms, and until she was safe, nothing mattered.

It didn't matter if Verity herself was twelve; she knew that her life didn't matter anymore.

She knelt on the clean ground to meet her sister's eyes. "R-run to your room." She brushed some of her hair out of her face, holding her fragile body with her free arm. "Take what you want; come back when I say so." She pressed a teary kiss on her forehead. "Don't look at them," she ordered before nudging her towards the stairs, following her with her stare as she ran past their parents, not sparing them a glance.

Verity returned to reality when a metallic noise filled her ears, startling her awake.
She shook her head, trying to get the weight off her chest, but it didn't even falter.

The door of the cell cracked open, letting the bright light of the prison illumination blind her tired eyes. A figure stepped in front of her, and she blinked a few times to see it properly, a forced smirk coming to her lips as soon as she recognized it. "Aaron Hotchner, were you missing me already?" She tilted her head, ignoring the acute pain in her neck.

The man crossed his arms in front of his chest, his features sharp, just like the look in his eyes. "Verity Forbes, we need to talk."

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i know this is really short, but i wanted to try and put a memory in it, so writing it longer felt wrong. If there are any mistakes please point them out, i'm really tired so i may have missed something when editing.