Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saw franchise. I only own the plot, and the Mastine family! [:
"Hello Gabrielle. As you stand here before me, I see a healthy, nineteen year old woman. Every man's dream and the envy of all the women. But they only seem to see the façade you put before them. They cannot see the true girl underneath the mask. The one who would slit her wrists so much it led her mother to suicide herself. Or the girl who's jealousy got a hold of her so much, it drove the love of her life, Adam, to leave her and go into a depression. The man let himself go, became the lowest kind possible. But it's alright; I'm taking care of him in another part of the house. Ha-ha. As for your sister Kiley, she still must despise you. Your own ignorance and narcissism made her school years hell. You think she would forget that by now though, right? Wrong.
Today, I am going to face you with three life changing tasks. Will you change your ways, in order to survive; or will you keep up your image, and face death? Remember Gabrielle, we are watching."
I dropped the silver tape recorder onto the ground, and took in my surroundings. I was in a dark room, with cement floors and brick walls. There was a large metal door on the right side of the room, a pile of my mother's belongings (which were the only real memories I had left of her.), and a large container filled with a bubbly yellow liquid. There was a note that sat upon the container.
I grabbed the note, which read:
Test No.1: Sometimes, guilt can eat away at the only memories left.
All you have to do to get out of this room is to find the key for the door. Take an educated guess at where you can find that.
"What the hell does this mean?!" I screamed, to no one in particular. I ran around for a few moments, banging on the walls (they did more damage to me then I did to them.), kicking the door, and thinking about how to get the heck out of here.
Then it hit me. The only way to get out was to destroy my mother's belongings.
I walked over to the yellow liquid in the jar, and opened it. It emanated a very foul odor! I went to dip a finger in, and when I put the tip of my finger in, the skin burned right off. I started screaming at the top of my lungs. It hurt like hell! Well, now that we know what that does, all I would have to do is pour it onto my mom's things.
As I was doing so, one single tear slid down my cheek, onto the ground. Then I started pouring. Her things just literally started to dissolve. At this point, I was bawling.
I didn't exactly think of myself as a bad person at the time. Just misunderstood at times. But obviously, whoever put me here thought otherwise. Sure, I screwed up. When I was around 13, I would slit my wrists when I was stressed, or sad. My mother eventually secretly caught on. I can remember the day I came home from school, and the police found her body…
FLASHBACK.
I was walking along the sidewalk on my way home from school. Everyone thought of me as the pretty, popular one. Little did they know, I was a cutter. Yes, you might think of me a psycho, but that's your opinion. I think it is easier than actually talking about your problems. It's not like I actually want to die, though. I just want a little of relief.
Just then, a few police cars raced past me, and they turned down my street. I figured Mr. Matthews and his wife just took one of their fights a little too far again. I felt bad for their son, Daniel. His dad was a Detective, and got a little but too violent sometimes. But anyways, I just kept walking and thinking.
As I rounded the corner onto my street, and saw police cars, and ambulances lined up and down the street, in front of my house. Just as I got to my yard, they were pulling a body out of my house on a gurney. There was a large white sheet covering the body, and a huge red blood mark was at the top, by the head. There was long, flowing curly-red hair coming out from under the sheet. It was my mother.
I ran full speed, through the police tape. One of the guys on the scene grabbed me, and held me back.
"You are not allowed on the scene! You can't be here!" he screamed at me. He was a younger, with brown hair. His face was rather bony looking. The badge worn on his shirt said "Special Agent Peter Strahm", with his picture underneath of it.
I continued to kick and scream. "NO! That's my mother! LET ME IN!!!!" I was sobbing, and my voice was cracking.
"NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN!" Strahm yelled. Then another man walked up behind him, and said "Peter, that is her mother. You have to let her in. Her father and sister are inside, anyways."
This man's badge said "Detective Mark Hoffman". He loosened Agent Strahm's grip, and grabbed my arm. He explained all about how my mother shot herself. She left a note. Then he took me inside my house, where we found my father collapsed on the floor, and my sister Kiley bent over his, with one arm around his shoulder.
My dad looked up, and started screaming something about how 'if I would have been a good child, then my mother would still be here right now'. I ran right back outside, straight into that 'Detective Hoffman' guy.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Well, the award for stupid question of the day goes to him!!!
"Well first off, my mother is dead. Second, my dad is blaming the whole fuc-" he cut me off, knowing I was going off on a major rant.
"Just, please, show me the note."
He took me to one of the cars, where they had the note. He handed it to me, and I immediately noticed my mother's spidery scrawl.
"Dear Family;
If you are reading this, I am most likely dead by now. I am sorry for putting all of you through this misery, but it is what had to be done. I just want you guys to know that I love you, and always will. Please forgive for the pain I caused all of you.
To my loving husband Nicholas;
I will always love you. Forever. Take care of yourself, and the girls.
To my daughter Kiley;
I'm sorry. I love you. Please take care of your father for me.
Don't let him eat all of those TV Dinners! He knows what they do to his blood pressure.
And to Gabrielle;
Honey, I know about your cutting problem. I couldn't live with myself knowing you were doing that to yourself. I know, right know your probably saying something like "You should have just talked to me!" But I'm sorry! I couldn't bring myself to do it. Honey, I found the bloody razors and safety pins in your room. I saw the scars along your arms. I just couldn't go on any longer. Reme-"
And the letter just stopped there. It was stained with her blood. She couldn't even finish!!
"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Mastine." And with that, he left me sitting in the seat of the car, sobbing.
END OF FLASHBACK.
After a few minutes, I realized I was crying. But I made myself pick up the key that now lay on the floor, where my mother's things used to be. I walked over to the door, stuck in the key, and turned it. I started to walk down the dark hallway, when I saw another key hanging from the ceiling…..
A/N:Was it ok? I hope so! This is my first attempt at a serious fic…. So please, REVIEW. Go ahead. Click the little button down thereeee! It helps me write more.