1. The action of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.
2. The desire to inflict retribution.
They say two wrongs don't make a right. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. It all sounded nice in practically and it was something Gwen had learned in kindergarten.
Treat others how you would like to be treated.
It was a motto that had shaped her outlook on life, even after having endured her challenging childhood. She knew she shouldn't have been so naive back then. Her father certainly trained her better than to think that life was full of rainbows and sunshine. No. Life is what you make of it.
Gwen knew better than to let herself become vulnerable that night. Hell, she knew she was always supposed to be on guard, prepared to fight back against the unexpected. But she was tired. For once in her life she wanted a taste of how it would feel to be a normal teenage girl. She wanted to experience coming home to her family, having regular schoolwork, and hanging out with friends. She wanted a boyfriend, to go to parties and just let loose for once in her life.
The image she had conjured up for self was finally coming into fruition. She came out of the shell she'd placed herself in and created new bonds and relationships. There were no lies or training, no missions or constant struggles to survive. Her name was Gwen and she was a normal sixteen year old girl with the entire world ahead of her, waiting for her to take it on by storm.
The hopes and dreams she fantasized about were finally coming true. She had a great group of friends, a boyfriend she adored, and the relationship with the other half of her family that she had so longed for. Everything she had to give up, everything she had worked so hard for was no longer relevant. She had turned a new leaf and her only regret was that she hadn't done it earlier.
Life was great until it all came crashing down before the spiked drink. Before the assault. Before the bottle to her head. Before she dropped to the ground. Before the sharp corner edge of that old tea table in the living room pierced her temple. Before they carried her body to a ditch.
Life, Gwen knew, was not always how you pictured it to be. Never would she thought this would be her fate. She'd finally gotten what she wanted, she'd earned it.
She wasn't just surviving anymore, she was living.
She was happy.
She was respected.
She was sought-after.
She was cared for.
She was kind.
She was generous.
She was loved.
...and then she was betrayed.