I dislike the quality of it, but it serves its purpose.... most of what I dislike was that no matter how I tried it still came out as a "pity her" fest, when it wasn't supposed to at all. It's also largely in her perspective, so the inflections might not be an accurate representation of how things truly were.

Once again, I don't personally like how I wrote it. Not really looking for criticism on that, since I pretty much know it's fail sauce...

Character's name is Witch... her power is to basically destroy shit. Yup...

--

Serenity Sterling was never a social little girl. From three years old she was almost always by herself, even when nobody quite knew why. Most of the adults figured that it was her father's influence, though it was never said why he was determined to be an unfit parent so late, instead of immediately. Most of the children thought it was because she didn't like them, and made fun of her in "retaliation" to her "brattiness."

She took a liking to music, curiously seeming to prefer old classical, orchestral and opera, sometimes branching off into musicals. This was one more reason to consider her an odd child, but no one really complained, as she didn't ask for any expensive lessons; she preferred to listen, apparently. She had a clear musicality, following tunes, melodies and beats well, but she never sang or danced to any of them.

That first family took a liking to her, as she was quiet and didn't seem to be too much trouble. They were in for a surprise when she displayed mood swings and a refusal to follow commands, eventually being far too much to handle for a simple couple that just wanted a happy family, already stressed from their careers.

The home apparently expected her to go back to "normal," as if it had just been acting out to get away, and were most bemused when she did not. There were even a few attempts to run away, and nobody knew what had truly caused the change. Paired with her persisting dislike for being around others, there was almost a cause for concern. One that was dismissed due to the fact she didn't have a penchance for violence.

They began to question this assumption the first time Serenity Sterling took a life, even if it was both self defense and an accident...maybe.

Her foster brother's stupid friends with their stupid alcohol and their stupid matches were going to burn that stupid house down because they thought it was funny. The masks were the first clue that this was not going to be pleasant.

They broke into the house, and Serenity followed with protests, saying that they should leave. One of the bottles was thrown away, smashing into a wall and spilling its remaining contents down the faded floral-print wallpaper onto the hardwood floors. It got fuzzy and all she remembered was being scared, running around and winding up near the broken bottle. She slashed out and blood sprayed all over the place.

There were horrible gasping noises, and red was spurting everywhere, but she had to stay calm or they would never leave and she would be the one gasping for air because she messed with them.

You don't mess with people and then make them think it's all just luck. You can't look scared when they go down, even if you are, because you've never seen so much blood. You've never had to smell it, never had to realize that through your smell you could taste things. You have to look like you meant for it to happen and you'll do it again, or they'll think they can do it to you. And they will.

That stupid house burnt down anyway, so it was for nothing, and she had nightmares for weeks. Nobody ever knew that. They just knew that she didn't seem to care that she had killed someone. Blood and fire, and broken glass, and a little girl that seemed to be a different person every day. There was an investigation but she was just a little girl who had defended herself. The kids in town started calling her a witch. When she received a finger bone, she threw it away and tried not to think of where it came from.

The second time Serenity Sterling killed somebody, it was a mess of closeness and scare tactics gone wrong, and it would have been on purpose but it all went wrong and they weren't supposed to die.

She couldn't breathe, standing over the body, no matter how many intakes of air she made, no matter how loud they got and no matter how many sobs came out she couldn't breathe. It wasn't reaching her lungs somehow, and she didn't know why. It was supposed to be. That was the way your body worked.

But all it did was burn her throat and make her dizzy. She threw up, wrapping her arms around herself and falling to the side so as to avoid her own vomit. Her body was shaking, almost as if she had worked it too hard like that one time she had tried to run away and almost died from hunger and exhaustion. She couldn't move enough away from it, and not far away was the body.

The eyes stared straight ahead and she had to close her own and pray that she wouldn't have to open them until she could move again. Silent sobs and dry heaves racked her body painfully, and she eventually fell asleep, waking up to questions and demands and some stupid psychologist who said she should start taking medication. The name "Witch" caught on.

She was switched to another family again, the worst of the lot, strict folks who believed that a "time out" in a locked room with nothing in it was suitable punishment for blinking incorrectly. The music stopped entirely and for two and a half years she was stuck. She ran away to no avail, only finding herself hungry and just as alone as always. Each direction turned up dry and she was always sent back, and that stupid room was painted a "peaceful" green that looked like baby puke.

The measurements were just slightly off, and she memorized them in no time at all, trying to find some measure of control to fall back on. Some solace. Anything at all to keep from going mad. There was no safety net to catch her, so she couldn't risk the fall.

And one night she refused and kept refusing until she was being dragged up the stairs by the hair, flailing and screaming and panicking, towards that stupid room. The door slammed behind her as she hit the ground. She lay there in that same place for hours, just staring straight ahead where her face had wound up. Something tiny came loose and began creeping up on her, a restlessness and a deep-seated hatred. It clicked into place completely when the lock was undone, sending a rush of cold fire through her. She stayed there a while more, before picking herself up off the floor and opening the door.

Serenity's face would have been completely, devastatingly blank if not for the faint tinges of something very dark and very, very angry, and she was quiet as she went down the stairs. Around the corner there was a lamp, and she picked it up and yanked it out of place. The cord was ripped out of its plug and the table it rested on toppled over. It was a crappy table.

She smashed it into the back of the man's head, calmly removing his switchblade from his pocket before she continued to smash his head into the floor where he had fallen. She heard screaming, two sets of it, and she wondered who the second voice was before she realized it was her own.

She slashed at the woman with the knife now that she was close enough, quickly dissolving into a far more blind rage. The lamp was still in her hand and she used it once the woman was dead. "YOU!" She screamed, enunciating it with a smash. "CAN'T!" Another. "CONTROL!" Thud. "ME!"

She continued on, repeating the mantra over and over even when her voice was raw. Finally, some time later, she found herself curled in a ball in the corner. She stared at the scene she had made in complete horror, too utterly stunned to feel sick or guilty.

In place of those, she felt clammy. Her body was shaking. She couldn't even react properly as the door was forced open with a slam, still just trembling in shock with the lamp and the knife still in her hands.

They grabbed at her, pulling her up and forcing her to move. She struggled against them, weakly at first because of her state. They did not yield. She cried out for them to let her go, but they did not yield. Her body started reacting on its own, drawing strength from some untapped source, struggling fiercely enough to be somewhat free. But she would grow tired like this, while there were many more of them. They did not stop coming, it seemed.

They probably never would.

She became lost in herself, kicking and screaming and being overcome by anger, fear, sorrow, helplessness, and on and on and on.

Serenity Sterling was not even aware of the moment she truly became "Witch." She was not even aware of the moment she became free. And trapped. But she was aware that she had control, somehow, in her little place where no one could touch her, and she was never letting go of that again.

The destruction was intense, decimating everything in the immediate vicinity and even quite a bit from a significant and impressive distance. She came back into reality and ran, not questioning the incident. She ran, taking care of her pursuers with multiple bursts of quicksand and various spreads (what an appropriate name), and she kept running until she couldn't run anymore. So she walked. And then she dragged herself. And then she saw a city.

When someone asked for her name, she knew the answer.

"Witch."

.... Holy fraking shatrath.

My god.

Now I know that the murdercide isn't too far off. She's bat shit! God damnit run Ignitus!! RUN!!!

No, but in all seriousness, it was really good Rayne. It got confusing at parts, but I think that's what you were going for in the parts where she killed someone...but seriously...wow. Wow. Wow. Wow.

Yeah, I was kinda going for confusing...

Thanks though. XD And she's... she's not bat shit. =/ Well, a little bit bat shit. But mostly, in a friendly environment, she's perfectly fine...

As i said in the PM, it's really good =^.^=

Edit: Btw, got me to think...The Doctor could have made her imagine she was in that same empty room with the green wallpaper while he tortured her, but held firmly in the chair, so would have even less control.

Wouldn't that have been cruel?

The problem with doing that would be giving Witch a way out. If she knew he could alter her perception of reality she could make herself believe what was happening was not real. He needed Witch to face reality.

Fair enough ..was just a though that occured to me *shrugs*

Yah plus...that really doesn't seem like the most horrible part of her past...

Honestly the whole 'hey let's watch your boyfriend die in slow motion!!!' was way worse than that. I mean seriously. Someone you love vs. place you hate. I can deal with a place...I think most people can.