Regret

"Do you feel bad?" I asked Pippa. It was one of those questions that my therapists had always asked me whenever something had happened in my life. It didn't matter whether I had done something or had something done to me; they always asked if I felt bad. 

My answer was always no. I didn't believe in regret. It was nothing but a waste of time. The past didn't change; it couldn't change. And everything that you experienced was what brought you to the point where you were currently. 

Both the good and the bad shaped you into what you were today. And seeing as I was sitting in the lap of my mate. With another five surrounding me in a protective bubble, I really couldn't regret anything. 

"What should I feel bad about?" asked Pippa, cocking her head to the side. 

"Dawn-Marie?" I responded. The poor 16-year-old who had died a brutal death simply so Pippa could figure out the perfect formula to turn herself from an ordinary human to an Ethawainian.