It was not what one wanted to do...it was a hard decision. And the tears lasted most of the day and furthter into the next. Even if they wasn't seen, they were there. The short temper. The redness around the black pools that glistened more then usual. The way the face always seemed to look away from anyone that would look her way....She refused to look at them. The show the sadness. Father kept her at all times. And when the lycans attacked, he shoved her into his brother's arms to protect her and snarled, ready to tear any limb to limb to keep her safe from any further pain.

She didn't know what hurt more..her body, heart or spirit...The tightness in her stomach showed every shift grotesly and she took to wearing things to cover herself more then usual, even her face to hide the grimaces and snarls most of the time. Black is slimming...psh...doesn't matter. It still shows lumps and bumps when one is standing wrong.

Nerissa rubs her puffy eyes and tucks herself further into the nich she made for herself in the bookcase high upon the wall. She could feel the painting of her grandfather, Xerax, over her head, brushing at her horn at times with a small clack of wood to polished obsidian. Feel it even in her skull...she tries not to think about it. Sitting at the table. Having to clear the books out of the way to make room just to set papers down to even write it.

Her hand had shook as the pen was held poised over the parchment and the light made her tender eyes sting as she tried to focus through the tears while she tried to write down her words of good bye. This was the second...or was it the third one?..she's had to do..her resignation to a place she had called home. None had been easy to leave but times had come to a point that she had to go...They could never understand what went on in her head. And she was changing, herself. She was a danger to them. She proved that the day she ripped Athan's soul out of his body right there infront of them...A stabbing pain in her hand makes her flinch and growl as she realized she'd snapped her pen in half and it had jabbed into her palm where she'd squeezed too hard, impaling her to the point where it's contents and her silver laced blood was dripping onto the parchment. Instantly she starts to bawl and grow angry simutanuously and balls it up to throw it with the others she'd destroyed before it with errors and anger. This..this was only one of several reasons she was leaving. After what seemed like days to her, she finished it, and sealed it to be delivered to the Voodoo Shoppe for Pix and began to prepare herself for the calls she knew she'd be getting.

The demon wished they'd taken time to contact her before..to let her know they were thinking about her..all that time she'd been gone and no one would even give a small howdy doo. She always kept to herself but she never felt so alone in her life. Less then half dozen that do bother to see her and her emotions have chased half them away almost and all she has otherwise is her mother and father at her side constantly, watching over her, and keeping her safe and alive.

Soon...soon, she will be herself again. And she will be strong again. Then those that aim to hurt her will see just how wrong it is to try and hurt her and those she love. All those that say they would be there for her and watch her back. She did not need them...this is why she always did everything herself. Never trust....for you only have yourself in the end. No matter how many times they say they will be there...in the end, its you standing there alone and surrounded by your enemies with just a small blade...

There is but very few she will ever trust. A very selected few that has proven themselves utterly worthy of giving their lives to her. And these are the ones she choses to be with. Because the others have failed her too many times.