I was looking in my document file and I came across this. I wrote it about a year ago but I still think it's worth putting up!
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Summery: Uh, very angst! Don't read if you don't like that type of thing. Basically Pacey is very depressed.
Please read and review!
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Nothing But Darkness
By
Stacey L Kendall
~*~
It was usually cold in Capeside for the time of year. A heavy breeze nearly knocked Dawson off his feet as he pulled his coat tightly around himself, stuffing his hands inside his pockets for extra warmth. His head was bowed down to protect himself from the rain that chilled the air around him, his bag hanging loosely on his right shoulder. Once he reached his destination he started jogging to the door and rang the bell. Dawson waited, shivering as the rain continued to pour down above his head, but after a few minutes no one answered. Not sure if the doorbell actually worked he knocked instead, but still no one answered.
Stepping back from the doorway, he looked up towards the third floor window. The curtains were closed but the window was slightly open. Another heavy gust of wind blew the curtains open allowing Dawson to see inside the room for a moment. He could just make out a figure walking past the window but Dawson couldn't quite make out who it was, as it seemed to be getting dark and no source of light was coming from the glumly house.
Dawson returned his glare to the front door and knocked again hoping that someone would answer this time but there was no rely. He slowly looked around to make sure no one was looking and bent down, unearthing a house key from a flower bed next to his feet. He unlocked the door with ease and stepped inside looking for any signs of life but the house was completely still. Dawson came to the staircase and climbed up it one step at a time looking around as he did so.
At last he came to the third floor, which seemed to be shut off from the rest of the house. Dawson knew where he was going, although he hadn't been there for what seemed like years. Everything seemed different. The colour of the walls had changed and there were no family pictures hanging on them anymore.
After a while he came to a door at the end of a lonely, dark corridor. The door was shut so he turned the handle opening the door with some difficulty as there seemed to be something blocking it. Once he had managed to open the door it gave way to a dark room. Dawson noticed that the window was now shut at the far end of the room.
He stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him, taking in how messy the small room was. As he continued to enter the room further he stepped on a painkiller, which crushed into the dark blue carpet. Dawson was just about to bend over and pick it up when he heard a noise coming from the bathroom. The door was already ajar as a small glow of light could be seem escaping from underneath it. He walked slowly to the bathroom and opened the door, knowing that he must be in there.
He stepped inside the door, slipping as he did so. Regaining his footing, Dawson looked to see what he had slipped on. The floor was covered in a red substance. It was blood. His blood. Dawson followed the trail to a small corner in the bathroom.
"Pacey!" Dawson didn't recognise his own voice as his words came out in a horse, dry whisper.
Pacey looked up at him. His face was pale and the blood still poured from his heavily cut wrists. The knife lay on the floor next to him also covered in blood. He didn't say anything as Dawson rushed over to his side doing anything he could to help. He seemed to be in another world but he didn't protest when Dawson rapped his wrists in a towel, which was lying on the floor to try and stop the bleeding. When he had done that, Dawson ran downstairs nearly falling on the way.
Upstairs in the bathroom Pacey sat there peacefully, his head turned towards the window, watching the rain poor down until he was unable to keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he heard was Dawson screaming at him to wake up as he slipped into unconiousness
The End
*SLK*
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Summery: Uh, very angst! Don't read if you don't like that type of thing. Basically Pacey is very depressed.
Please read and review!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nothing But Darkness
By
Stacey L Kendall
~*~
It was usually cold in Capeside for the time of year. A heavy breeze nearly knocked Dawson off his feet as he pulled his coat tightly around himself, stuffing his hands inside his pockets for extra warmth. His head was bowed down to protect himself from the rain that chilled the air around him, his bag hanging loosely on his right shoulder. Once he reached his destination he started jogging to the door and rang the bell. Dawson waited, shivering as the rain continued to pour down above his head, but after a few minutes no one answered. Not sure if the doorbell actually worked he knocked instead, but still no one answered.
Stepping back from the doorway, he looked up towards the third floor window. The curtains were closed but the window was slightly open. Another heavy gust of wind blew the curtains open allowing Dawson to see inside the room for a moment. He could just make out a figure walking past the window but Dawson couldn't quite make out who it was, as it seemed to be getting dark and no source of light was coming from the glumly house.
Dawson returned his glare to the front door and knocked again hoping that someone would answer this time but there was no rely. He slowly looked around to make sure no one was looking and bent down, unearthing a house key from a flower bed next to his feet. He unlocked the door with ease and stepped inside looking for any signs of life but the house was completely still. Dawson came to the staircase and climbed up it one step at a time looking around as he did so.
At last he came to the third floor, which seemed to be shut off from the rest of the house. Dawson knew where he was going, although he hadn't been there for what seemed like years. Everything seemed different. The colour of the walls had changed and there were no family pictures hanging on them anymore.
After a while he came to a door at the end of a lonely, dark corridor. The door was shut so he turned the handle opening the door with some difficulty as there seemed to be something blocking it. Once he had managed to open the door it gave way to a dark room. Dawson noticed that the window was now shut at the far end of the room.
He stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him, taking in how messy the small room was. As he continued to enter the room further he stepped on a painkiller, which crushed into the dark blue carpet. Dawson was just about to bend over and pick it up when he heard a noise coming from the bathroom. The door was already ajar as a small glow of light could be seem escaping from underneath it. He walked slowly to the bathroom and opened the door, knowing that he must be in there.
He stepped inside the door, slipping as he did so. Regaining his footing, Dawson looked to see what he had slipped on. The floor was covered in a red substance. It was blood. His blood. Dawson followed the trail to a small corner in the bathroom.
"Pacey!" Dawson didn't recognise his own voice as his words came out in a horse, dry whisper.
Pacey looked up at him. His face was pale and the blood still poured from his heavily cut wrists. The knife lay on the floor next to him also covered in blood. He didn't say anything as Dawson rushed over to his side doing anything he could to help. He seemed to be in another world but he didn't protest when Dawson rapped his wrists in a towel, which was lying on the floor to try and stop the bleeding. When he had done that, Dawson ran downstairs nearly falling on the way.
Upstairs in the bathroom Pacey sat there peacefully, his head turned towards the window, watching the rain poor down until he was unable to keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he heard was Dawson screaming at him to wake up as he slipped into unconiousness
The End
*SLK*