He was gone. Anthony was gone. Murdered by some prick punks of some elitist family of swans. Anthony was dead and there was nothing that was going to bring him back. Murana was enraged when she heard the news of his point-blank decapitation at the barrel end of a shotgun that ended his career in the police force - all because those punks did not want to get a ticket and have to run home to mommy and daddy to say they had done wrong, tarnishing their family's good name. On top of it all, the trial of their sentencing was a farce. Let off on minimal jail time and community service? For a freaking murder of a cop?! Her rage bubbled and swirled inside of her, darkening her heart and clouding her mind.
For the longest time, Murana had left her past self behind - the part of her that was bruised, battered and broken, filled with hatred and vengeance. She tried to put herself back on the right path and work cooperatively alongside the Zabokar Police Department, first as their forced-into-employ Confidential Informant, and then as one of them, a sister-in-arms. She performed with outstanding integrity and exemplary service. She had finally felt free from the shackles of her abused and tortured past that had cast a pall on her life and her future. Having a family, a loving husband and finally a daughter born out of a womb remade settled her heart and freed her spirit.
Now all that was destroyed. Annihilated along with the remains of Anthony's head splattered across the pavement with nary a single ounce of justice to cry in his defense. The killers were roaming free with but a smack on the wrist, leaving her family a disastrous mess. Didn't Anthony deserve justice? He shouldn't have had to die for just doing his job of stopping a truck going way too fast in a residential area. Just because they were birds and their family was affluent and important did not mean they had the privilege of getting off scot free of murder.
Without thinking, she yanked out the bag hidden at the top of her closet shelf behind all her old family photos and slammed it on the vanity, ripping open the zipper. She reached in and pulled out a suit of crimson and black. She stared hard at the suit of villainous past and began to tremble and cry. This wasn't her anymore. This is not the solution. She knew this. She made a promise to herself never to kill in this manner and motive again. However, her heart was tugging fiercely for her to right the wrongs that had been perpetuated on her family. Without a proper punishment, those bird punks would never amend their ways and with the way society was going, nobody would stop them should it happen again. It had to end tonight. She was tired of the world forcing their will upon her life where she could do little but watch it happen.
"Mom?" A timid voice called out behind her. "Aren't we going to Dad's funeral? We're going to be late."
Fighting back the tears damaging her calm, she sniffed, gently putting back the remnant of her violent past. "Yes, of course, Taylor. I just need a moment, please."
"Is.. is everything alright, Mommy?"
"No...not yet, hun... but it will be." She set her jaw in grim resolve, zipping up the bag.
