Decisions

She stands at the edge of the platform, gazing out into the endless abyss ahead of her. One hand on her sword, the other down by her leg, ready to leap into action. There’s no enemy, no challenger, nothing for her to be so on edge. And yet, she waits, ready. Caithlyn’s eyes dart between what little flickers of light are visible as they slip past the event horizon. This close to a black hole was not a good idea, yet here she stood, as if she expected something to rise from such a horror, something she could vanquish. But nothing came.
At least, nothing others could see. For Caithlyn, she was surrounded by enemies. Foes of her own making, each one looking just like her when she made the choices. Choices that hurt herself, hurt others, hurt everyone. Battle scarred armour, blood dripping from the helmet. Rags, stained with drugs and sweat. Formal attire, masking the shame beneath the fabric. Each of them glaring, waiting for Caithlyn to make the first move. They were all her and she was all of them, which put them all in a stalemate.
A voice spoke up. “I want her back.” A young voice. Not from the woman that Caithlyn had become, but from her as a child. Holding a small, stuffed dragon and looking more tired than angry, the youngest version of her stepped forward, looking up at herself in the present. It wasn’t her decision, she was too young to have any say. But the pain was still there. And it wouldn’t go away.
But maybe she could stop blaming herself.