Jan. 10th, 2012

turnedtoproust: (distanced from truth: by snowchimes)
What does one do when their life comes crumbling down around their shoulders with stunning efficacy? Scripps knows that some building pick up the pieces and start rebuilding. Some lie crushed under the weight of it all, never to move. Scripps, deferring to old habits, turns to God and the church. The hangover had faded on January first, but the guilt and the remorse hadn't. Some small part of him can't help but feel that Hector's death -- or, at least, the timing of the news -- had a direct correlation to Scripps' sins.

He doesn't regret doing it.

Mostly, he regrets the promise he made in the first place, but you can't simply undo something vowed to God so lightly. The lowest circle of hell belongs to the traitors and while Scripps is aware his betrayal is a minor one (and hardly on the scale of Brutus and Cassius), he still feels that unending, all-consuming guilt. As of January second, he begins to spend a good portion of his day in church to ask forgiveness, advice, and pleading with an unseen force to give him lenience because he can't stop thinking about her.


turnedtoproust: (Default)
Donald Scripps

July 2014

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