So this is what happens when I'm supposed to work on my term paper…
I've had this in my head for quite a while now. I like the idea very much, it's just that it turns out to be quite hard to work it out, so I decided to publish the first chapter and hope for you guys to leave some comments and tell me what you think about it!
For better understanding: present in normal letters, past in italics.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nothing.
She was standing on the edge. Standing on the edge and looking down. Just one step. Just one little step and in 50 meters she'd be hitting the sidewalk. One step. It was so easy. She would just close her eyes and never see it coming. One step and it would all be over.
Frustrated, she wiped away the tears and took a step back. No, she hadn't come up here to end it. She wanted to think. And she wanted to suffer. She didn't feel like she had suffered enough. That was what she's been doing all the time. Punishing herself. For letting go. For falling apart. For giving up. For everything. Ending it now would be merciful. And she didn't want mercy. She wanted pain.
And she couldn't do that to her friends. They had suffered enough. She would punish herself. Not them.
Ziva David broke down into a sobbing bundle on the roof of the NCIS building.
She blinked as Saleem pulled the bag from her head. Tears came to her eyes, this time not from pain, but from the sudden bright light.
"There you go, bitch." He threw the little box at her. Out of a reflex she caught it. "I'll be back in five minutes. Do it and tell me."
Her hands trembled as she opened the box and slowly unfolded the package insert. They had never planned this. Damn, they hadn't even thought about this. She didn't want it. She couldn't handle this right now. What would Saleem do to her if it was true? And how was she to protect it? It was her responsibility. Would they let her keep it? Would they kill it? Surely they would use it against her.
She took a deep breath and wished she'd never been born.