Okay, this is a oneshot that I originally planned to make a full story but lost my focus on it...anyways the story revolves around Caitlin. When she feels that she just can't take it anymore she has to make a big decision...I think it portrays a very different side of her...a side that she won't let anyone see. Well, I hope you enjoy it...please don't flame it, it's only my second story...and I know it is a bit short but I hope you still enjoy it...
Luv ya lots!
Secretly Falling Apart...
Caitlin POV:
I collapse onto the inviting hotel bed, exhausted after a long and boring flight. Finally in Las Vegas…I would have preferred California but of course it was up to Diane.
I kick off my designer pumps and mentally scold myself for wearing them. Note to self: never wear high heels while flying! I gingerly rub my perfectly manicured feet and
check for any damage. After a minute of inspection I feel satisfied with their condition. I pull back the bed comforter and slowly slip into their velvety sheets. My eyelids, heavy with
exhaustion, sink gently over my emerald eyes. Just as sweet slumber starts to take hold, I hear the voice of my dad.
"Honey? Diane and I are heading down to the casino, we probably won't be back until twelve…"
I hear the rustle of my dad's jacket as he pushes it back to steal a quick glance at his watch,
"…So in about six hours. You'll be okay by yourself won't you?"
Without opening my eyes I let out a muffled answer of assurance.
"Okay sweetie, love you and we'll see you tonight!"
I hear the door close shut. Left in peace, I feel myself drift into sleep, knowing that my slumber would not be a pleasant one. My dreams would once again be plagued by
nightmares. It has been going on for too long…
I wake up in a panic, chest heaving with fear. Sweat present on my forehead, as if a fever had suddenly come and past. I fearfully look around the room my head snapping left and
right, imagining terrors each worse than the last. I shift my gaze to the digital clock on the bedside table. Already aware that I been locked in my own head for less than an hour. The
numbers etched in fluorescent green laugh at my fear, make me feel small and weak. My eyes shine with unshed tears. I slowly untangle myself from the hotel comforter and make
my way towards the bathroom. My nose wrinkles in distaste as the smell hits me. It reminds me of a hospital; empty and clean, a tinge of something forbidding, hanging ominously in
the air. The smell didn't bring with it the reminder of anything good, just everything I hate. Needles, medicine, doctors, death; nothing remotely close to anything comforting. I close
the door behind me and lock it with a swift and quiet click. I stare at the beautiful girl in the mirror.
Even in the presence of sweat, tears, and runny makeup; yes, I was blessed with beauty. Its hard to imagine how much vanity used to mean to me. The clothes, makeup, social
status…seems empty to me now. As does a lot of things. Nothing is the same anymore…You're not with me anymore…Ever since you left, I've been the girl putting on a show
for everyone else; pretending to be the girl I was, the girl everyone wanted to be. A small sigh escapes my lips and I push back the bangs from my forehead. I regret it immediately.
I see, even more clearly, the resemblance I shared with the one I had lost…"Mom"…I guess that's why my appearance has become less of a priority. I wanted, so desperately, to
erase any remaining trace of you from my life. But the one thing that reminds me the most, I can't get rid of. Every time I see my reflection every memory rushes back; painfully, I
have to relive every minute we shared, and live with the knowledge that I will never get to be with you again. I know it's been a year; but I seem to be the only one who cares…the
only one who remembers when you slipped away. I'm the only one being tormented. Even my dad, her husband, seems to have moved on…to Diane. Easily replaces my mom,
who cared so much about everyone, with some bimbo who probably can't count past ten. The only thing Diane is interested in is mooching money from my family and creating a
false sense of completion for my dad's broken heart.
Unable to look at my reflection, I lower my gaze to the floor and shuffle towards the toilet. I pull down the seat cover before taking a seat. I distraughtly try to think of a way to
focus my thoughts, I'm so confused. "Nothing is right…nothing will ever be right! I don't know what I'm doing anymore…" I feel my cheeks become wet again with a fresh
onslaught of tears. There is ultimately only one possibility of freedom from my depression, a very permanent one. I feel a loud sob break from my throat, one that throttles my small
frame. A sob of defeat; reluctant acceptance. "It will al be over soon…" I slowly open one of the drawers beneath the counter, and begin my search for the key to my way out. I
cringe a bit as the cold touch of metal bites at the tips of my fingers, a small, metallic razor lying on the bottom of the drawer. I tenderly grab the razor with two of my fingers; silently
fighting back the urge to run to the safety of the comforters. The edge of the blade glints dangerously against the dim light in the bathroom; my mind races and I feel my pulse
quicken. My heart pounds in my chest, so loudly I fear that the whole world is aware of its thunderous beats. "I should probably unlock the door…" I place the razor carefully on
the countertop and head back to the door. After releasing the lock, I return to the toilet and while passing the counter, take the razor in my fingers once again. The touch is cool in
comparison to my feverish skin; a chill runs up my spine, the salty taste of tears creeps into my mouth. My veins are vivid against ghostly skin as I turn my wrist towards the ceiling.
"For so long I've been secretly falling apart…now everyone will care." My hand shakes with determination and fear as the blade grows ever closer to my thin wrist. I feel the
painful bite of the blade as it slides into my skin; forced away to reveal the pearls of my efforts…pearls of crimson blood. I increase the pressure, the incision growing deeper.
Another wave of pain hits me and the flow of blood begins to rush instead of drip. Tears fall from my eyes; mixing with the growing pool of blood. My vision blurs, dims
considerably. I feel the blade slip from my frail fingers and barely hear the clatter as it hits the floor. My legs start to weaken and I slide to the floor. The lids of my eyes close over
eyes dulled with pain and weakness. I'm overcome with a increasingly numb feeling; the pain ebbing away, an oblivion of darkness swallows everything. "I'll finally be where you
are…"
Well that's my oneshot...I hope you liked it... remember to R&R! Until next time!
Luv you all!
-Schmelly Inc.