Absence of Light
In the distance a door slams and I slump against the wall. My eyes scan the darkness around me, or as much as they can… I pull into myself and my conscience taps me on the shoulder and I can hear her telling me this is it.
Sadly, I know she is right…
I had always thought I wasn't really leaving him.
Promised him that he would one day know the truth about why I was marrying someone other than him.
Why I was jumping into the marriage within weeks while I had asked him to take things slow when we got back together after Jose's art show and I knew he would never hurt me and I would have been safe with just a safe word.
He would never have done this to me.
He would have stopped when I asked… begged him too… but then he never would have beaten me… repeatedly… to the point of breaking.
I wanted to tell him so much; to make him understand that I wasn't really betraying him, but saving him.
In doing so, I have condemned us both.
I wrote him letters over the course of these past two years; letters that I, of course, never sent.
I was only able to get one too him.
The one I wrote after my last night with him… The night my inner goddess died… the night before my wedding to another man; a man who he knew was darker than him on some level. Oh, if only I had listened to him!
Listened my beloved Fifty… but there are no recriminations that can change what I have done. What I have become. None that can ever make me regret trying to save him. After all, he has been my hope over the last few months.
He will be with me as I lay dying at the hand of my husband.
It will be him that I will love for eternity.
Oh, that's not to say that I don't have regrets.
I regret marrying Jose.
I regret what I let Kate blackmail me into- that I believed their story that he was dying and needed me to fulfill a fantasy (though I suppose that that was true). Even more I regret that it was Kate I ran to the one time I got away. That I let her talk me into staying at her place because it was so late when I arrived.
Why did I think I could trust her, after what she had done?
I should've gone to Christian- to Escala—he could've helped.
But I didn't and Kate called Jose and I never had the chance to run again.
My conscience does give a contented smile as she remembers how I returned the favor to Kate.
Only a few days ago, I made sure that Elliot left her publicly at the altar. I let him know that his wife was a fraud and had had a hand in ruining- no, that didn't matter now. It wasn't meant to be.
Would never be now.
For now I lay dying.
I lay wishing for something that would never be.
But I had saved Christian.
In ruining Kate I had saved Grace and Mia as well, for now Jose would have no access to them- and that was the reason for me telling Elliot the truth had really been.
I had known for a long time now what my end would be- but I wouldn't allow others to be hurt- no what little back bone that hadn't been beaten out of me and still remained was there to save others.
My fate was sealed.
Tired… g-d I was so tired…. I wanted… what was the quote "To sleep perchance to dream?" Oh- and my dreams were my haven.
The dreams where what kept me going these last few months; my dreams and memories of him.
Christian Grey was my light- the only color in my black world. He was all colors- white.
And I? What did that make me? I suppose I was his black- for by leaving again I had taken all colors from his world.
The absence of color and all color.
I wrote that to him once, didn't I?
Yes… Yes, I did.
I remember now.
In the journal.
The journal that should now be on its way to one Dr. John Flynn- oh let Fifty still see him!
Let him get the journal after my death to know he was what kept me alive!
Gray, that's all I see.
We are fifty shades of fucked upness, aren't we?
Together?
And, even more, we are no longer black and white- for intertwined we mix, we collide, and we become gray.
Shades of gray- or rather Grey- the color in between- the lines in between the words… oh, how I wish I could speak to him once more…
Drifting, that's what I'm doing and I know it, and I'm growing colder and I know this isn't good.
How long has Jose been gone? How many days have I been in this closet? How much time till the end?
Oh- before this last time… or rather before this closet visit began; I had thought I could escape.
There was this sense of- hope for a future that I hadn't had in the years since I was last with him.
I stupidly made plans.
I had thought I would be there when he got the journal- that he could read it knowing I was safe.
I had hoped to read the one that I had begged him to keep in the letter where I promised to return to him- the letter I got Elliot to take on my wedding day… but did he even get that letter? Oh… I know it didn't explain much- I couldn't explain it all. Jose dying. Kate using the e-mail she had found in his discarded jacket to make sure I went through with the wedding after she caught me sneaking back into our apartment… I just wrote that I didn't break the NDA but that Kate…. She could be persuasive. I knew he might, oh but he didn't, did he? But Elliot was at the reception the whole time… oh, but he never found me. His stalker tendencies found a wall they couldn't breach- for I knew if he had any idea what was happening to me he would have taken me away and Jose would've been the one who lay dying on my apartment floor.
I had other plans too, didn't I? If only I could remember…
So tired…. So much pain… I can't sit any longer… Curl up tight… yes I can sleep and maybe dream and see him once more…. But how… oh, the bag…
The bag!
An inner being I don't recognize rises up and tells me- yes! She screams and pumps her hand in the air. "Don't you remember? It's your escape bag…. The blackberry's in there and charged. It's all you managed to pack. That and your letters to him and the original journal…Ana just look inside!"
Confusion and grayness wash over me, and yet… I listen to my- what is she- I tilt my head to the side trying to decide. Her eyes I know, but from someone's face. And the hair… oh my, she is just a figment of what could've been. I dream… yet I follow her advice; or was it an order.
I pull out the blackberry and stare at it; a memory flits at the back of my mind and I hear him…
"I don't need or want a blackberry, Christian," I say as I roll my eyes.
"Eye rolling Ms. Steele? I believe that is a punishable offense," he teases me.
"Oh, really and how do you plan on punishing me?" I shot back, glad now that we are easing into a relationship- one no one knows about outside of security and Gail.
"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something," Christian grins as he leans over me and pulls me close into his body, enveloping me in his love. "But the phone- it's a hard limit Ana."
"What? Why? Christian… really…"
"Shh… Leila's out there. Elena is… well, Elena and I don't like that she sought you out. And… Ana, we're keeping this quiet, but I want to be able to call you whenever I want. To text you without worry. To write what I can't say. Also, to keep you safe."
"How will a phone keep me safe?"
"Dial 1 and you get me, Baby.
Dial 2 and Taylor will come running.
Me you call anytime, but him- you call Taylor when you need help. He'll keep you safe when I can't. And even if… if things don't work out…"
"Christian…"
"I'll always want to protect you, Ana. You're my light, my heart and my life. Call him and he will save you for me…."
Shaking off the encroaching darkness, I curl up and tight, head on the bag as tears run down my face, hoping that I remembered to charge it… or turn it off… somehow, someway, it is charged and I hit 2 and send… for Christian can't be the one to find me like this… after a couple of rings I am afraid that he won't answer… that someone else has his number… or just that the memory is false… my mind playing tricks on me; but then a voice answers… "Taylor…."
I swallow back so many things in the silence of his name hanging then at a sound in the background, his or mine I can't comprehend, I speak softly, hoping he hears me over the line: "I didn't know who else to call… you can't tell him… but I need help… it won't be long now… I don't have long…" I ramble.
But the voice on the other line calls out to someone there: "Sawyer get Welch to trace this line… Now!" he saids and then calmer, softer and directed at me: "just keep this line open. We'll be there."
"I don't know… don't know if I charged it… or if I turned it off… I'd forgotten I had it….I… I wasn't even sure you'd answer or if the number was the same…."
"Ms. Steele the Boss wanted you to be able to call me anytime you needed help. We… I'm on my way."
"But you don't know how to find me…. We left Seattle… I tried to get away once…. I thought… I was so stupid…. I went to Kate instead of him… maybe I thought Elliott would be there and I'd know he got…. But he wasn't… and she called Jose… and he came and got me…. And it was soooo much worse, Taylor… he told me if I left again… he'd get Mia or even Grace… I knew what he was like than…. I couldn't do that to them…. So I stayed… I dreamed…. But… it's too late… I know that… it's just…. My Dad…. He can't know. I knew that he and Jose's father… they started to suspect… that's why we had to stop seeing them…." I tell him, my breathe starting to come in fits and starts. "He'll blame himself. And- oh g-d, Christian- you can't… can't let him… blame himself. Even if he knows I did… did… did this… to keep Kate from telling stories about…. About…. About…. About im…. I … I made. … I made my choices…. I….had… too….pro…. prote… protect… him. He… can't… see… see…. What….be….became….of… me….never let… allow…"I try as my breathing grows harder and shallower, and even as his voice is telling me that I need to calm down I speak over Taylor who is speaking over someone else… "Taylor… I'm not… it's too late…. You won't…. just… see…can't see…. They can't see…. How… how broken I am…..Christian… Christian needs…. To know…. Promise me you…. Tell… tell him… he was… he was… my light… my hope… even…" I manage as I hear a door near me slid open and Jose calling me. "Even… as I…. I lay …. Dying… dying at… ano…ther's feet… I... clung to him… to our love…" I whisper as I hear my husband's footsteps. "Don't… blame… self… waited… too long… now… back…kill…me….." I think, and I hope I say, as I drop the phone and the door is pulled opened and I am ripped away from my last hope.
And I am drifting again.
I am trying to drown out the knowledge that I am dying and the feel of the punches and kicks and as Jose forces his way into me, his hands cutting off my oxygen supply I allow another's name to pass my lips as I sink into darkness…
No longer shades of gray… I have no white and am his blackness… his darkness, even though the blackness isn't completely there for he is with me- always.