Morticia

A Change Of Perspective

(Authors note: This chapter is not in the POV of Morticia. Who's perspective is it? Fuck you and read the damn story if you wanna know, seriously who actually reads the authors notes)

It was a pastime, that's all. Watching them on my little screen, mesmerized by the inevitable timeline going over smoothly as each generation comes to be. I tried not to get attached to them, of course. What I was seeing was thousands of years ago, and if I interrupted what has to happen it's not like anything will be altered. You cannot change time. Even if I could, I would probably cease to be born because of my stupid time travel fuckery and ancestor obsessing bullshit. But it was still hard. So many people gone to soon and even though I rationally know I can't I couldn't help but feel as if I could do something. But I pushed through it. Nothing could stop me from enjoying this. That is, until her. She was different from her parents, and grandparents and great grandparents and all the other generations before her. And no matter how hard I tried to think logically I couldn't take it upon myself to keep watching. I couldn't witness someone like that meeting her end. No matter what I do or say I know I'm being illogical, I can't do anything. You can't change time. I cared for her more and more and would have given anything in the world for her to even know that one day I'll exist, all because of her. Everything I've have ever done or seen or heard, it was her gift to me and she didn't even know I'm watching. But now I'm here, regretting everything I did because I could just let the inevitable play out. Now, I can never go home.