Conflicted: a mental struggle resulting from incompatible or opposing needs, drives, wishes, or external or internal demands. It was fair to say that Talia Naylor was feeling conflicted as she once more looked at the notebook before her on it was a name and address. One could easily be misled into believing she was looking up an old friend or acquaintance after all that's a normal thing to do. But the name was that of a man who had destroyed her family. Cullen Clements, the name alone made her take a deep breath before letting it out into the empty apartment. This had once been her home, this city, but when Cullen had all but mentally destroyed her sister in the family had packed up and moved, here she was back in the city because she’d been offered her dream job. Her fingers ran over the indentations in the paper where the name was before she stood up from the bed, leaving the book as she went through her daily routine as she got dressed and grabbed breakfast. Talia placed her empty bowl in the sink before looking around the apartment, cardboard boxes were stacked against the walls, only the bare furniture settled in place.<br/><br/>Talia paced back and forth for a few moments before abruptly moving towards the bed, grabbing her hoodie and bag from the bed stuffing the notebook inside. Talia headed towards the door, a hand rising to push her long raven black hair in soft waves past her shoulders back from her face. She was dressed in worn dark blue denim jeans, cut outs showing slithers of skin on her knees and thighs, a tight black tank top hugged her hourglass shape, an oversized hoodie in a deep red wrapped around it hiding most of her figure from sight. Worn black converse on her feet, she was a little smaller than her sister sitting at 5’4, but her face held the same heart shape and soft features, sparkling sapphire eyes were the biggest giveaway to their shared genetics. The raven waves a close second, Emily was three years older than her, she had been her hero, Talia had thought that there was nothing that Emily couldn’t do. That had been until the fateful night she had come home, with a ripped top, red eyes and streaked mascara down her face. She refused to tell her what had happened, said it wasn’t worth it, it was her own fault for trusting him.  Three months after that day, had seen her sister spiral into a downward depression of self-hate and destruction. She lashed out at everyone, including her, finally, she had managed to find out what had happened. One night in a drunken rant, she had learned of Cullen Clements and the vile things he had done to her sister, to her hero. Talia had felt sick to her stomach and an anger like nothing she had ever experienced had overcome her form, she had begged Emily to go to the police the next day but she refused. She was ashamed and afraid, she didn’t want the label of victim.<br/><br/>The family had moved just over 4 years ago, 8 months after the rape.  A new place would help at least that’s what her parents had said, so had the therapist. For a while it did, Emily had settled down, but after a few months, she once more had fallen into her spiral of self-destruction. Her parents argued constantly, her confident, self-assured sister was nothing but a shell of her former self. Emily had always been the popular one, the talkative and friendly sister. Talia had easily fallen into the role of the shy, smart one and it had suited her, she had her sister to talk to her after all. But then everything had been flipped on its head, the family was pulled apart because of one day, one man.<br/><br/>Talia left the apartment, slamming the door behind her, anger once more the prominent emotion as she thought about Cullen. After a little research she had found the address of the guy, her sister may be afraid of him but she wasn’t. It was time he was made aware of what he had done, of the damage he had caused. It was time he suffered too. With that Talia’s pace increased her fear and nervousness being pushed to the back of her mind as her anger fuelled her forwards. Driving towards the house, she found herself coming to a stop in front of a house, the neighborhood was decent and as she stared at it, she found it blending in with the street. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, maybe a picture of the devil above the door to warn any visitors. As she sat there, she once more felt the nervousness come back, her anger subsiding a little at the reality of where she was. Her eyes glanced towards the door before she quickly forced herself from the car and towards it, her feet propelling her forwards and before she had even had a chance to think about it, her hand was knocking on the door. This was it.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="641" data-username="@reverse" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/641/">@reverse</a>