Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Kayla is an irish name = The word cadhla means beautiful and implies "a beauty that only poetry can capture." - .
Author's Chapter Notes:
This idea was always in my head so I decided that I would try and see what's going to happen...
Not beta-ed. All the errors are mine!
*Text* = Thoughts
Brian's POV
*I am totally fucked up! Absolutely fucked up! And waste... And high too... And a little lost... Wait, I just got out of the elevator of my building so I should be in front of my door... So, where's the door? There's no fucking light and I'm tired and everything I have already said and so fucking more... Ahah! There, find you bitch! Now, where's my keys? I had them a minute or two ago for the door of the lobby so where are they now? Fucking Anita! She said it was good stuff and I can't even remember where my keys are! Aha! Gottcha! What the fuck were you doing in my pants? I had probably confounded my pocket with the waistband of my jeans... Yeah, that's it, surely it was that. Home sweet home, Brian.*
I make a beeline for the bedroom immediately, beginning to peel off my clothes on the way. Once there I finish to undress and go to the bathroom to relieve myself of the booze non-stop accumulated. When I finished I return to the living room and take the most precious thing here in the loft: Kayla's photo. My beautiful 4-years-old little sister in her tiny white dress, looking up at me instead of the camera with more adoration and love in her eyes than I have ever seen in the eyes of anybody else. *And I will never see those eyes again...*
Suddenly I get up and walk, holding the photo tight against my chest, to the bed. I lie down gently and cover me up as if I were cold, as if I were freezingeven, as if I wasn't really burning inside and I cry... I cry for the ache in my chest even after 10years... I cry for the loss of the only person that have ever make me feel loved and deeply cared about... I cry for all the times I see a little girl with chestnut curly hair walking in the street and I feel my hopes and heart crushed when it's not my eyes that are looking back at me... I cry because she'll never know what it is to grow up... Finally, I cry for the fact that I'll never know what the kidnappers really did with my baby girl...
I cried myself to sleep this night... Like every 23th June. Because today... Today is the anniversary of the day when my life went to hell... Today it's been ten years since my Kayla had been kidnapped. Today it's been ten years and I just can't stand to live like nothing happened. Like she never existed.
The morning after
I woke up with a huge hangover this morning. *Argh! I feel like dying... What is it with me and the mobid thoughts?* I look down to the thing I clutch in my hands so tightly my knuckles are white: Kayla's 4th birthday photo. *She's fucking beautiful...* I can't help but notice the similarities of our appearances even then. My eyes, the same coulour of hair, the smiles,... The only difference is that she has always been too smart for her age. Smarter than me back at her age. She grew up too fast and it's no wonder with the family we have. I never told Debbie or Michael that her disparition still affects me. Not even Vic and seriously, if I wanted to talk about her to someone, he would be on the top of my list. Him or a psychologist. No, no psychologist for me. That's just a bunch of crap that someone is very well-paid to tell you and who don't know shit about what their patients are going through.
That's definitively something I'll never do: go to see a psychologist.
Chapter End Notes:
Why, are you sure Brian? Well... I'm not! =D
So tell me what you think and if you like it I'll continue my story and if you tell me so I'll just drop it. Love you all **hugs**!