Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but Christmas is less than 3 months away... *nudge nudge*wink wink*
Summary: "Know you didn't bring me out here to drown, So why am I ten feet under and upside down, Barely surviving has become my purpose, Cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface." (Lyrics by Blyss/Lifehouse - Storm)
I hope that you like this story. A slight pre-warning, it is angsty. But I hope you will enjoy it all the same.
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Ten Feet Under
Chapter One
The car park roof was deserted, it was always that way. No one ever took the time to drive all the way to the top floor, why bother when it was four floors away from the shops? Emily Fitch looked out over Bristol, staring across the river, watching the skyline she knew too well. She could feel her heart racing, that familiar movement inside of her chest. The first time she felt it she thought it was a sign of a heart attack. But seven years later it was still there and so was she. It appeared every day, usually when she drove up to the top floor of the multi-storey. She clutched the metal railing that fenced in the open floor. That heart beat sped up as she thought about what she wanted to do. Her fingers became discoloured, the grip so tight it was cutting off circulation in her fingers. She was about to lift her leg, to rest it on the first rung of the barrier, when a small voice shouted to her.
"Mummy!" it was more than a shout, it was a cry; a heartfelt, teary cry that brought her out of her dangerous thoughts and back into reality.
Her daughter was crying, begging for her attention from the car. She took a deep breath and let her eyes close momentarily before she returned to her child. She helped the toddler out of her car seat. She looked at her; stared at her features; so much like her own, so familiar that they made her want to cry. She loved her, she did. But sometimes love wasn't enough. She felt guilty for putting herself before her child, before both of her children. But that was where she'd ended up. It was how far she had come since she stopped believing that she was gay and started to believe what everyone wanted her to be.
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If she could have gone home without returning the shirt that was too small for her, she would have. But the refund date was fast approaching and she knew if she didn't do it then, she never would. The person stood in front of her in the queue was tapping her foot with impatience. It was a small queue and they were second and third in line, stuck behind the slowest person in the world. Emily wanted to smile, but her depressed mood never allowed her the pleasure.
"I know how you feel," she mumbled, "I have to be at work in ten minutes and I haven't even dropped my daughter off."
The woman didn't respond, didn't even show that she'd heard her talking. Emily rolled her eyes at the woman's ignorance. Eventually the till was free and Emily stepped forward to get her refund. She didn't really pay attention, just went through the motions of the return then exit from the shop. She didn't even notice when she ran into the back of someone. The blonde hair was the same as the hair she spent ten minutes staring at in the queue. She was about to apologise, but the woman interrupted her, turning around swiftly, aggression in her eyes.
"Watch the fuck where you're going."
But then her eyes changed, they lit up and Emily could feel her body shaking. She knew the woman and the woman knew her. The woman's laugh reminded her of everything she wanted to forget, everything she had been trying to run away from.
"Emily Fitch," she grinned, wrapping her arms around Emily's shoulders with a confidence she didn't remember Naomi having.
"It's Coleman now," Emily's voice quavered, holding out her ring finger, hoping the physical image of the gold band would be enough to show that she was in fact living a life that neither of them expected.
"Wow," Naomi replied, the only word to come out of her mouth.
"How are you Naomi?" Emily asked, wondering why her heart was beating so much faster than it usually did.
"I'm good, I'm really good."
It was small talk; simple conversation about something that barely mattered. It didn't last long as Naomi made excuses about work. Emily accepted the exchange of numbers and promised to call with the hope of a future reunion. She watched her go, watched the blonde hair disappear from her life again. She glanced at her watch, wondering if it was okay to forget about work, being already an hour late with her daughter still beside her.
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The house was quiet when she arrived home, her little girl running off upstairs with an urgency that Emily had never had. She tried to remember her life before, before the complication that was Naomi Campbell, but it was an impossible task. It was unintentional that their paths should cross on the same day that she had almost gone through with her plan. She tried to remember before her suicidal thoughts and found those memories just as hazy. She was supposed to be a calm and mature woman but she knew she was neither. The lounge was darkly lit, but she could make out her husband's form sat on the sofa, a game of football playing on the television.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice dry and broken.
"Day off, thought you were at work," he replied, glancing at her only momentarily before returning to the football.
"Didn't feel well."
It was a lie. It was usually a lie. She was never very good at lying as a teenager, the false words always made her blush or laugh. But as the years passed, as her life became more and more distant from the life she once imagined, she found lies easier to tell.
"Are you sure you want to marry him?" her mother had asked on her wedding day, there was no hesitation in her response, she'd rehearsed the answer so many times that it didn't feel comfortable, but it felt easily done.
"Of course, I love him."
She loved him. It was another lie. He always wanted her to tell him that she loved him and she complied, letting those three words fall from her lips. But what did it really mean? She cared about him, but love? She glanced down at the excitement building in his lower regions.
"Fancy some fun?" he asked, patting the sofa beside him.
"Charlotte's upstairs," she answered, her only excuse.
"So?" he grinned, "Makes it more exciting don't you think?"
"Clean yourself up, your daughter will be downstairs soon," Emily replied. But he already had hold of her arm and was pulling her towards him.
She let him do it, she always let him. Never instigated it, never took control, just let him dominate her with such submission that she knew feminists and probably Naomi herself, would fear for her womanhood. She thought of their first time. He'd been sweet, careful, like it was the first time either of them had ever had sex. She knew that he cared deeply for her, even if she didn't return his feelings. It was nice. That was the only word she had to describe it. It wasn't wonderful or amazing or even rubbish, it deserved no real adjective. As she let him do it to her again she wondered if he would finally be able to fulfil her sexual appetite, but as he reached his high, she knew the chance had fallen short, as usual.
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The shower continued to drip long after she'd changed back into her clothes. It was one of several jobs around the house that she never got around to sorting out. She heard an exchange of conversation downstairs; pulled her shirt over her head before finding out who had turned up. She saw the red hair, heard the loud mouth and smelled the strong perfume before she'd even reached the lounge. Her sister.
"Finally," her twin gasped, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her cheek.
"What are you doing here Katie?" Emily asked, suddenly feeling tired.
"I came to see you, anyway Bobbie here was filling me in on the party I missed the other night, how is baby face James?"
It always amazed Emily how her sister could say so much in such a short space of time. She felt physically exhausted trying to muster a response.
"He's fine, disappointed that you missed him turning 21."
In true Katie fashion she barely blinked an eyelid at her brother's disappointment, just like she never thought it a big deal to miss the celebration of the birth of Emily's two children, or even the marriage that Katie seemed to have wanted to happen more than Emily.
"So I went out with Josh, I can't believe how hot he is. Ems he makes me horny just looking at me."
"My cue to leave," Bobbie announced, slipping out of the room.
It was ironic really, that she would end up married to a man that most people called Rob. Of course the moment Rob Fitch had met him, he insisted that he be the only Rob in the family and so christened her then boyfriend Bobbie instead.
"He was really gutted," Emily tried again, hoping to get some sort of emotional response from the woman that was supposed to be her identical.
"He'll get over it, anyway where was I? Oh yeah, so Cherise and I were talking and she says I'm so lucky to have him because his last girlfriend was an actual fact model; runways, magazine shoots, the lot."
Emily sat down, watching her sister with enough attention to learn nothing. She didn't want to listen to her usual droning, but Katie didn't know when to shut up. She thought again about the car park, about what she nearly did that morning and she wished that she'd actually gone through with it, if only to get away from Katie and her constant story telling.
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Please leave a review. I put a lot of work into my writing and it's always nice to know what you guys think about it. If you enjoyed it, or even if you didn't, just drop me a line.