Ficlet: As I Lay Dying (R)
Posted: Fri Mar 25, 2005 3:15 am
Ficlet: As I Lay Dying
Author: Lady Casper
Rated: (R) For suicidal attempt.
A.N: In respect that I haven?t mentioned any names in here. This is based upon Relena?s attempt at ending her life due to depression and anxiety. As it seems her rescuer doesn?t wish for her to go.
The cold fire attacked my eyes. It wouldn?t go away. I tried shoeing, waving it, even putting it out. Nothing made it go away. It resembled my heart.
It had its cuts, wounds, burns from my mistakes in life. Teaching me lessons I had never known would help me. So far they hadn?t. I was still stuck in my place of fear and loneliness.
My muscles tightened as I heard his voice coming from down the hall. The key went into the lock, turning until I heard the echo of the clink allowing him to come in and see me. See me completely sprawled out on my bed waiting for my end to come.
The hand still clutching the knife tightened, fearing he would try and take me away from my solitude. No?he can?t take it from me. I must get out of this life made to feel like an eternal death.
Closing my eyes shut tightly, tears started to cascade down my cheeks. The salt water melted my skin with its heat. Teeth clenched with pain as the knife slowly entered my skin. A buzzing noise became the only sound I could hear.
I could feel the heat of my blood pouring down my pale skin. My eyes opened to see a layer of tears forming above my irises. They blocked the vision of him. Seeing me lying there, covered in blood now.
Snatching the knife from my hand I could feel him try to cover my wounds. It was no use now. I wanted to leave, not stay in this hell. From my blurry vision I couldn?t tell if there were tears in his eyes or just my own.
A tear of grieving illusion or not, streamed down his tan face. He was hurting me more than my wounds were at the moment.
I didn?t blame him for this. I didn?t think it was his fault at all. So why the tears of guilt?
?Pl-please?? his voice stammered. He never did that, ?Don?t leave me?I need you.?
He never said that either. He didn?t need me. I was worthless. A piece of flesh walking about the earth that had too much of a big mouth to keep herself out of trouble: that?s what I was.
Someone, who had to depend on others just to protect her because she was too weak to defend herself.
My eyes tightened again when he tied the wounds up with a cotton towel he must have gotten from my bathroom. I could taste the blood on my hands, my arms, my bed, him, on his hands, my love?s hands.
Did he really love me that much? Was I that much important for him to shed his first tear of sorrow? Could I have made a mistake??
He placed his stained hands on my wet cheeks; holding my head in place for him to look at my eyes. He just stared not at me but into me. What was he looking for? Some answer as to why I had done this to myself?
I wonder if he could see them. Seeing them though wasn?t what could make a difference, he needed to feel them. Feel my pain, know what I was going through.
His eyes glazed over staring off into mine. My body shivered from the tension going between our two bodies. The anxiety was eating ate me. What was he doing? What did he see?
My absent mind of the pain slowly shifted into an aching pull in my skin. Electricity rushed my blood to my wrist. My wounds kept bleeding. Was I going to die?
The feeling of panic shook me. Why though, I wanted to die didn?t I?
My fingers moved on their own accord, reaching for the strong blood stained fingers cupping my face. They were warm, inviting, I could feel my eye lids starting to close. I had to fight off this feeling; it was too serene for it to be real.
Tightly closing my hands around his, I let the pain wake me from my slumbered state.
The slow dim sound of the hum drifted, fading into his voice. A voice that held depth, warmth, caress that made my body want to reach up and hold him for dear life.
Death to Death. Gone to Live. I wanted him, I wanted solitude. Peace and pain? the pain in my wrists started to dull. His lips now on mine, he was giving me his warmth, trying to keep me alive. But for how long could he, eventually death would knock on the tall doors of Utopia, dragging you away.
Blood ceased to pour, lips never left one another. My heart beating in time with his, I felt alive while I was dying.
For the first time, I feel alive as I lay dying.
~Fin~
Author: Lady Casper
Rated: (R) For suicidal attempt.
A.N: In respect that I haven?t mentioned any names in here. This is based upon Relena?s attempt at ending her life due to depression and anxiety. As it seems her rescuer doesn?t wish for her to go.
The cold fire attacked my eyes. It wouldn?t go away. I tried shoeing, waving it, even putting it out. Nothing made it go away. It resembled my heart.
It had its cuts, wounds, burns from my mistakes in life. Teaching me lessons I had never known would help me. So far they hadn?t. I was still stuck in my place of fear and loneliness.
My muscles tightened as I heard his voice coming from down the hall. The key went into the lock, turning until I heard the echo of the clink allowing him to come in and see me. See me completely sprawled out on my bed waiting for my end to come.
The hand still clutching the knife tightened, fearing he would try and take me away from my solitude. No?he can?t take it from me. I must get out of this life made to feel like an eternal death.
Closing my eyes shut tightly, tears started to cascade down my cheeks. The salt water melted my skin with its heat. Teeth clenched with pain as the knife slowly entered my skin. A buzzing noise became the only sound I could hear.
I could feel the heat of my blood pouring down my pale skin. My eyes opened to see a layer of tears forming above my irises. They blocked the vision of him. Seeing me lying there, covered in blood now.
Snatching the knife from my hand I could feel him try to cover my wounds. It was no use now. I wanted to leave, not stay in this hell. From my blurry vision I couldn?t tell if there were tears in his eyes or just my own.
A tear of grieving illusion or not, streamed down his tan face. He was hurting me more than my wounds were at the moment.
I didn?t blame him for this. I didn?t think it was his fault at all. So why the tears of guilt?
?Pl-please?? his voice stammered. He never did that, ?Don?t leave me?I need you.?
He never said that either. He didn?t need me. I was worthless. A piece of flesh walking about the earth that had too much of a big mouth to keep herself out of trouble: that?s what I was.
Someone, who had to depend on others just to protect her because she was too weak to defend herself.
My eyes tightened again when he tied the wounds up with a cotton towel he must have gotten from my bathroom. I could taste the blood on my hands, my arms, my bed, him, on his hands, my love?s hands.
Did he really love me that much? Was I that much important for him to shed his first tear of sorrow? Could I have made a mistake??
He placed his stained hands on my wet cheeks; holding my head in place for him to look at my eyes. He just stared not at me but into me. What was he looking for? Some answer as to why I had done this to myself?
I wonder if he could see them. Seeing them though wasn?t what could make a difference, he needed to feel them. Feel my pain, know what I was going through.
His eyes glazed over staring off into mine. My body shivered from the tension going between our two bodies. The anxiety was eating ate me. What was he doing? What did he see?
My absent mind of the pain slowly shifted into an aching pull in my skin. Electricity rushed my blood to my wrist. My wounds kept bleeding. Was I going to die?
The feeling of panic shook me. Why though, I wanted to die didn?t I?
My fingers moved on their own accord, reaching for the strong blood stained fingers cupping my face. They were warm, inviting, I could feel my eye lids starting to close. I had to fight off this feeling; it was too serene for it to be real.
Tightly closing my hands around his, I let the pain wake me from my slumbered state.
The slow dim sound of the hum drifted, fading into his voice. A voice that held depth, warmth, caress that made my body want to reach up and hold him for dear life.
Death to Death. Gone to Live. I wanted him, I wanted solitude. Peace and pain? the pain in my wrists started to dull. His lips now on mine, he was giving me his warmth, trying to keep me alive. But for how long could he, eventually death would knock on the tall doors of Utopia, dragging you away.
Blood ceased to pour, lips never left one another. My heart beating in time with his, I felt alive while I was dying.
For the first time, I feel alive as I lay dying.
~Fin~
but i still luv it, LC. hope to hear from u soon....and i wanta know what happend to her???? ((troughs a temper tantrum))