Hers to take

"They don't love me, that's why they left me," I'd whisper to myself every day.
"I'm doing them a favour," is what I'd tell myself before I drew blood.
"I'm sparing them the pain" I kept on repeating every single time I released an arrow aimed at their hearts.
After all, I was made to believe that their lives were mine to take.

She was a trained killer. She believed that humans were evil. How could she not believe it? She had been left in the woods when she was nothing but a baby to die, maybe wolves would tear her apart or trolls would end her life if that didn't happen, hunger would slowly kill her.

But looking at him slowly die, she didn't have it in her. She couldn't deliver the final blow. Instead she could see herself helping a human.