Fighter

My father brought out his long glinting sword and plunged it into my mothers stomach.

It seemed the second time was more painful than the first. It was like the reassurance that nothing was okay. That my mother really does die, that my father really is the bastard I know him to be. There's no escaping my future anymore. Growing up is the only way out. I pushed Mrs. Havisham away from me and fought out of Damon's iron grip. I stalked towardsmy father and his evil, hysterical grin. He opened his arms as if to hug me. I raised my sword and plunged it deep into his stomach. His face turned from a grin to shock and he looked down at his stomach to find the sword I was still holding implanted in his flesh. He looked back up at me and I pulled the sword out sharply, mercilessly. His face turned into a sick grimace which made waves of horror pass through my body. He fell to the ground just in front of my mother. A single tear ran down my cheek. I looked down at my mother and father, both dead, at my hand. Both bleeding because of a stupid peice of silver.

Fighting. Fighting for freedom, for her life and for her friends. Fighting is all Jessica can do anymore because if she doesn't fight, her life with slowly crumble around her.
Jessica was an ordinary girl until she came to Dean House but then again I suppose irony is sweet. She found she was a witch and a powerful one at that. She finds she has to bring down her father no matter what it costs, an arm, a leg, a life, even when it's her own mothers she can never stop. Fighting is the only things he knows now and a fighter she is.