Instantly recoiling at the hideous sight before her on one rainy Saturday nightfall, a once ebullient and attractive blonde was giving a piercing, fiery glare at her own pathetic reflection of the distorting mirror designed as an enthusiastic, comical attraction to the visitants that rest in this building. The blonde, however, was everything but, and the stare was not from that of narcissism like her old personality would have done, but that of despondency and pure disenchantment for herself.
Hands clasped together at the neck of her cashmere sweater, several sniffs collide with her normal breathing, with tears so crystal clear descending down her face and slowly dripping, embedding themselves into the soft fabric of her black, see-through leggings.
Undernourishment would have taken over her curvy figure had it not been for a certain bundle stopping her. Her rib-cage burned from the amount of meals neglected from her fragile physique, and if she had ever made any exceptions regarding food, she would often make one halfhearted excuse after another during each meal just to relocate herself to a restroom and let her body perform such emetic wonders.
A creak of the hotel bedroom door and recognisable footsteps immediately set the blonde's facade into action. Grabbing her makeup brush she used the ending bristles to wipe away her vulnerable tears just a fractional minute before her reflection was soon joined by another.
"Hey.." a beautiful, young brunette perched on the side of the vanity chair next to the blonde. "You've been gone for a while now, are you okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine, babe." The blonde struggles to flex her mouth into a semblance of a grin, the brunette couldn't even notice it when she smiled so hard through a heartfelt lie.
"You just seem...not yourself. You've been acting awful tough lately, disappearing most nights," The brunette planted soft, delicate kisses onto the blonde's jawline, then stroked the rest of her pallid face.
Her lover gave a fabricated laugh. "Don't be paranoid now. I'm just really tired, that's all." To distract her, the blonde cupped her girlfriend's jaw and kissed her back, the brunette being too focused on their tongues gliding on one another to notice her lover's insincerity.
"I left my bag downstairs. I'll go get it, and when I come back, I'll comfort you alright?" Kissing her on the cheek again, the brunette strokes her lover's neck for a moment, her pulse frenetic beneath her fingertips.
"Yeah, sure." The blonde waved off the brunette, who strolled out to get her things but not before the brunette gave one last look at her blonde counterpart.
"Pacifica.." the brunette glanced at the emotionless blonde, placing her hand on the cold wooden door ready to vanish. "Just remember that if something's bothering you, you can tell me anything."
The one called Pacifica let out an eccedentesiastic chuckle. "I'm fine. I think you've had a bit too much to drink down there."
Pacifica's girlfriend raised both eyebrows of hers, completely doubting her emotions. "Alright...well, I'll see you in a few minutes." Closing the door gave off that telltale creak again which caused the blonde to shudder in frustration.
Glaring at herself in the looking glass once more, the blonde looked into the eyes of her own twisted reflection, a hypnotising crystal blue, the colour that reflects the entity of pure sadness. She moved her gaze to her luscious lips, filled in with dark lipstick...a scarlet red, the colour representing fiery, agonizing, uncontrollable hatred, whether it is toward oneself or others.
All Pacifica felt towards herself were these two, painstaking emotions, sadness and complete hatred. Her heart, as well as her eyes, were set on fire inside, deeply burning, intent on releasing more tears.
She regretted everything she'd done over the years, played surely as a masquerade to her squandered youth and disillusionment. She, coming from a wealthy family, has trained herself to facade an outward appearance that is maintained to conceal her less pleasant and creditable reality; her flawless public facade masked private despair.
However, there had been only one girl who could see right through her false maliciousness and continuous dissimulation, and that same girl had become her first love. Now, here they were, seventeen with no place to go, in an average, decent hotel that they had managed to successfully hide in for the last month, based upon their fantasies of running away together.
"I don't deserve her," Pacifica thought aloud. "Not after all I've done."
Slowly gliding to the door next to the vanity leading to the small bathroom, Pacifica had the primal urge to force herself to eject once more.
Turning on the sink, grabbing her own throat with one hand and holding up her hair in the other, she violently regurgitated the entire day's meal, which was surprisingly not much, and the matter collided with a few drops of crimson, deadly liquid as Pacifica stared at her reflection in acrimony.
The blonde waited until the former contents of her stomach had all glided down the drain. At the last drop, she turned the sink off and went back to lingering for her lover.
She threw herself onto the bed, but she adjusted herself accordingly knowing the circumstances regarding her insides, waiting for her lover to return. It has been a while since she left.
"Mabel.." Pacifica shut her eyes and attempted to wander the dark void of her mind. She shakes her head, a hard snap to purge her mind of the thoughts and the horrible secrets consuming her.
"Yeah?" A screech and an accidental, unintentional door slam followed by her girlfriend's voice and footsteps was enough for Pacifica to snap out of her trance and nearly jump out of the bed.
The girl she called Mabel was standing there, in the doorway with two bags in each hand, the first, a royal purple duffel bag filled with her personal properties, the second being a plastic bag with leftovers from their lunch at the hotel restaurant earlier. The event in where Pacifica barely touched her food, the same food that Pacifica had just disgorged all over the sink minutes before Mabel arrived.
"Oh Mabel, don't scare me like that!" Pacifica put a hand on her aching, burning heart and clutched the satin sheets.
"Sorry," said Mabel, placing her bags onto the vanity table gently as she strolled to Pacifica's side.
"Where've you been?" The blonde kissed the brunette on the cheek, gently caressing her face, trying to banish what she had just done to herself out of her thoughts.
"That dinner was so good, I just couldn't get enough of it. I seriously just had to get more. I brought some for you too, if you wanted some." Mabel pointed at the plastic bag.
"No, no, Mabel, it's alright. I ate a lot, I'm full already." Pacifica lied, remembering the action she had done moments earlier, knowing full-well that her statement was completely antithetical to that action.
"Okay," muttered Mabel in disbelief, slithering into Pacifica's arms under the quilts of comfortability ready to slumber away.
They traded farewells of good nights and loving phrases, but Pacifica was having a very rough time sleeping. She felt even more abhorrence towards herself for being so distant towards Mabel, but there was a reason for that. A horrible, horrible reason that she could never, ever forgive herself for, and she sure as hell didn't expect Mabel to forgive her if it was discovered, either.
Daybreak and thunderstorms incoming, Pacifica was having neverending trouble gathering herself. Exhaustion was all her body could fathom at this moment. The blonde grabbed her phone, and glanced at the sleeping beauty next to her, her back turned and completely oblivious to anything going on. Carefully, the blonde had silenced her phone so that the brunette's wonderful rest wouldn't be interrupted.
"3AM," Pacifica mouthed, reading the time from her portable screen. Leaving the device on the table, the blonde slowly slipped out of bed, glancing again at her lover who was far too unconscious to suspect anything going on.
The window interests her immensely, a flurry of rain pattering against it. Trotting over to it, striding over and unlatching the hook connection, throwing it open allowing her to view the beautiful, luminescent panorama of the city skylines, the void of the night lighting over it in dark hues of raven. Ravishing lightning and thunder collided wonderfully with the vista of Gravity Falls, a timid breeze diffuses the fragrance of rain. Her pale, skinny legs felt cold, in spite of the heat elicited by the vents built under the window.
Realizing that she was on the largest, highest floor of the hotel, Pacifica threw her legs, carefully stepping onto the small windowsill, perching on the thin, light boundary between substance and void, life and death. She slowly closed the window and relatched the peg, not wanting to be visible but not before giving one last glance at the sleeping, opposite facing and unsuspecting Mabel.
Thunderous roars with the cold rainy winds sent shivers down the blonde's spine, but she soon grew used to it. Ha. Thunderstorms were quite easy to get used to, meanwhile psychological torture was not. The storms happened once in a while and they ended after a short period of time. Her suffering, however, remained everlasting.
Loathsomeness invaded Pacifica's mind whilst happiness evaded it. "How dare I say I love her when I have hurt her," Pacifica whispered to herself, hatred burned inside her melting the cold ice previously inside her. Too anesthetized by the tantalizing aromas to feel even tiny qualms at the life-changing action she plans to execute and strives to dissuade her. "How dare I fucking lie to myself and utter that I am fine when I have betrayed the one person that cared about and has loved me the most."
"You deserve better than me." she sadly murmurs to the wind. Trembling on the ledge, pressing her index finger on the glass window, tracing the outline of the dozing Mabel on the other side. "You can go on without me. I'll find my home underneath the city lights, or just simply rot a painful death in the afterlife where I belong. I deserve it, after all."
She looked up and found a sharp, botanical tree branch on top of the roof above her. Just as the tether of gravity is about to dissolve and let the branch fall miles down the tall building, the blonde immediately catches it almost perfectly.
There's already a raw agony tearing at the blonde's icy heart, the guilt, the terrible, overwhelming guilt of leaving her girlfriend behind. But, the blonde can't bear to stay behind anymore, not with this terrible secret that has yet to take over her tragic teenage world.
"I have broken your heart, and because I have done that, I have decided that I do not deserve a heart of my own." She inhaled, exhaled, slowly and deeply, ready to end all of this pain once and for all.
One last loud, thunderous rumble passes, and looking into the sable clouds producing the beautiful lightning, the blonde arches the sharp end of the stick towards her bitter, unhappy self, glides it over her heart and acts.
Jamming the branch inside her heart with exertional force, the familiar, relieving liquid starts pouring out from the bloody gash slowly and painfully. Using the nanoseconds of brain activity she has left, a bittersweet smile and transparent tears form across the blonde's pallid visage, as with the rhythm of the thunders overhead, she descends from the high building.
Everything is constantly falling. Gravity falls, and there is no one there to fucking save it, and maybe, just maybe, for once it doesn't want to be saved.
In her mind, there was no way that the brunette would have ever forgiven her for the unspeakable act she has done and that she has kept inside her for months. To her, the brunette was finally happy, and she could move on peacefully without her.
She had always said that she would rather commit suicide than lose Mabel, the one person she loved more than anything in the world, and that is exactly what she has done.
Because there was absolutely no way that Pacifica could go on living, knowing that she had betrayed Mabel and was bearing another man's infant.