Angel Petrova

Cowardly Goodbyes

What/who does Angel look like to y'all? Just curious!😃

***Mikaelson (human) era***

Angel jogged through the shadowed forest, skillfully dodging the withering limbs of the weeping trees. She released a small gasp, as her chest clenched in pain and the sharp intakes of breath she took sliced through her panicking lungs. After numbness began to consume her body, she flung herself against the rough trunk of the nearest tree.

"Please, please, please," she whispered. "Please, Ana, please. Come back, Tia. Please, please, please..." The words escaped her chapped lips in a crisp exit. Angel did not beg, but if it meant her sister could come back, then she would.

Her nails clawed at the decaying bark. She thought that if she hurt herself enough, she would wake up. She would be free from this nightmare of a life, if she could just wake up. But Angel was not fooled by the shiny temptation of optimism and hope---no, Angel knew she could not wake up.

Tatiana was dead; the blonde could feel it. She felt the wicked snap of Atropos' rusty shears clamp down on her sister's thread of life.

Angel was a failure---a disgrace. She failed in her mission. She had failed her family and herself. Angel did not protect her twin. That was the only thing she had to do, and she failed. "Please, please, please.."

Angel was weak.

Her dulling eyes gazed at her surroundings. She was in her fading piece of heaven: the place where she took Kol the night of the bonfire.

Her head snapped to the left, as she heard the sound of a twig breaking, then she breathed a humorless laugh. She had no right to be fearful. Angel deserved to suffer; she deserved to be beaten and broken, and she deserved to be ravaged by the bleak fangs of Death....well, maybe she did not deserve to die. Was death really such a cruel fate, when you had nothing else to live for? No, death would be too kind.

Angel's entire existence revolved around the life of the doppelgänger. Angel's life was only meant for one thing, and that was to balance out the doppelgänger's. That was it. She was not alive to fall in love, travel, or experience joy. She was alive so the doppelgängers could live. It was as simple as that and absolutely undeniable.

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the layered material of her dress. Her nerves were sparking with uncontrolled electricity, while her mind was speeding one thousand miles an hour. She had nothing to go back to. She had no reason to stay. Her father would undoubtedly blame her for the death of his favorite daughter when he discovered the body, and she couldn't be angry with him. It was her fault; she had failed.

"I'm sorry, Tia. I'm so sorry..so sorry.."

Shiny tears glistened over her almond-colored orbs, and her hand slowly dropped the wrinkled and blooded material.

"Oh, don't cry," she hissed, "don't cry."

There was no use in crying; Tatiana was gone, and shedding drops of liquid misery would not bring her back. Her current father always told her that tears were contemptible, and she was so tired of being hated. She was exhausted of being pathetic.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. 'I'll leave,' she thought to herself. 'I'll leave and purge this village of the heavy weight of a burden. I'll bless this village with my absence, and spare them of the inconvenience of getting rid of it themselves.'