My first Living Dead Girl fanfic

Takes place directly after the last chapter of "Living Dead Girl", if "Alice" had survived. Just a one-shot fic. A little JakeXAlice thrown in. This girl deserves a little genuine LOVE don't you agree?

plz review!

I was free...

Or so I thought.

For so long, I have desired death. Longed for death. Waited for the day I would finally be freed from this endless torment and suffering. Awaiting that wondrous day I would finally be dead. A true dead girl, instead of the walking shell I have instead become. The Living dead girl; whom everyone can see, but no one knows, listens, or cares for. She was just there to take up the space, there to be seen, never heard.

My life...my existence...the one at the center of that misery...the one who stole my life, liberty...childhood...family...everything.

Ray.

For so long, I dreamed of the day he would tire of my body, be disgusted by by inevitable aging...and finally set me free. Finally would take the life I was no longer able to covet or have any desire for. Snatch back from me the pain he'd caused me for so long...the memories that never, ever left me alone.

But no, instead, I open my eyes to a white-washed, anit-septic-scented hospital room. I am right next to a small window, which offered me a clear view of the night sky, the stars that shone like tiny little lanterns a million miles away. The stars...the heavens...I was so close to being there...

I try to move, and a dull pain shoots through my bones. I still feel a faint aching soreness in my shoulder and stomach. It is all coming back; the events that seem just like faint dreams. Ray was on top of me, only his eyes weren't glittering with sick, twisted lust this time. They were dead, glossy orbs. Still, just like his body. My body had been warm and sticky with blood. Mine and his.

And...that...moron Jake...the fool that had tried to save me...

...and who had only made surviving all the more terrible, now that I had been mere inches from freedom.

I had been...so close...so close I could have tasted it.

But no.

I am still here.

And I am alone.

I glance around the room. As expected, I am the only one here. After all, who would come to visit me anyway? Ray? I doubt it. He'd probably still be fuming about how his precious Annabel will never be his now, and plotting ways to convince the staff he is my true guardian, so he could take me home and punish me the way all bad girls are punished...

...that is, if he weren't dead.

I hate him so much. Not just for me; the living dead girl...but for what he was planning to do to her...to Annabel...and for what he would have made me do to her. Hold her down, while he taught her what it meant to be his little girl.

Suddenly, the door is creaking open and someone is stepping into the room. Probably some stupid fucking nurse who has some half-assed idea that healing my body will fix everything that has happened. Make me all damn better. Hell, what am I saying. She probably dosen't know anything. How could she?

Someone is walking towards me now. I am now concious enough to feel the stickiness of my skin under the bandages, soaked with my blood. How the hell did I survive those damn wounds? A bullet to the stomach and a knife in my shoulder, and yet regardless the living dead girl is revived, to walk amongst mankind unseen, unheard.

Unloved.

Footsteps. Slapping against cold linoleum tiles. I lift up my eyes to meet my stupid visitor. Whether it be a nurse or the doctor or even my parents...I don't care. No one, or nothing, can ever make me right again. Maybe it's time I make that clear to my "healers." My "saviors." The only way anyone will be able to save me is if they kill me.

But I am surprised. It is no doctor. It's Jake.

"Hey..." He whispers, I guess trying to be gentle with me. Do whatever you want. I don't give a shit.

"What do you want?" I hiss. It's so hard to hide how furious I am with him. I know somewhere inside me its unreasonable. All he was trying to do was help me. If only he knew...but he just didn't.

I hadn't noticed that he'd been holding something behind his back. He held it out towards me.

"I got you s-some flowers. I know girls are supposed to like that, and you seem like you need some cheering up. They told me no one else has come for you yet."

I blink numbly at him, almost completely at awe by his utter naivety. What could I expect, him being a total junkie and all. The sweet, mild scent of the flowers drifts around me...its almost a little comforting. But I reveal no trace of comfort in the cold, mean glare I give him.

"I don't want your pity." I growl, shifting makes me sick. His greasy blond hair...his dirty ragged sweatshirt...his stupid hat...his damn drug addiction. He'd even been smashed when he'd come to my "rescue," evident by the damn slurring of his voice as he'd stupidly called out, "Let her go." He'd thought he was some big-shot action hero.

He was just a damn moron.

I wince with pain as I shift away, and Jake, the curteous, yet drugged up gentlemen he is, makes a motion to help me. "Oh, does it hurt?" He says in a voice that makes me want to kill him.

"Yeah no shit it does!" I shout, and the effort only makes me cringe more. Jake's expression wavers, as though he feels somewhat responsible. In all honesty, he is, being the one who actually shot me by mistake when aiming for Ray. I remember the way his hands were shaking as he clutched his phone, trying to call for help. Trying to call for something.

My words seem to genuinely hurt him. "I'm sorry." I'd almost feel guilty if I actually cared about him.

Somehow though, I felt the need to ask this;

"Hows Lucy?"

He looks startled by this question for a moment. But he answers, "She's okay. Just scared out of her wits. I don't think she's going to want to go to that damn park again anytime soon."

I let out a wispy breath. I feel myself heading towards to edge of unconciousness again. Jake notices. He seems very alert to my condition at the moment, despite the fact he's a junkie.

"Listen, I know about you." He breathes. I don't look at him.

He takes a deep breath. "The police went to that guy' s house...and they saw it...they saw the layouts of your house and the blood on the floor and on the wall...they figured it all out...and they told me."

"How the hell did they know about him?" I demanded, getting weaker. "How the hell did they find out?"

He took another deep breath. "That guy...Ray...he was a convicted child molestor in another state, and they decided he had come to this state to hide or start fresh or something after he'd been released...or something...but they guessed...by the look of your room...that'd he'd been keeping you awhile. But not as his daughter."

"Jesus." I muttered briefly. This conversation was draining me. "Just go away."

Then, he did something daring; he grabbed my hand. "No." He said through clenched teeth. "I put a few things together too. You...you brought us there for that guy to take Lucy. That was the whole point wasn't it?" I didn't answer.

"But in the end...you didn't help him. You told her to run...and I k-killed him."

I try to pull my hand away, but its getting harder to move.

"What's your point?" I whisper. "I had no damn choice. If I didn't do what he said, he would have killed my whole family. Why do you think I endured all those years for, instead of just killing myself rigt then and there...it was...for them!." I could'nt take this anymore. Jake was seriously pissing me off, making me relive everything, when all I wanted was death.

He squeezed. "I...I came to thank you." He said. "You told her to run...you were going to sacrifice yourself. You didn't know I would stop him. You...I..." he ran a hand through his hair and sighed exasspearatedly. "I..I'm no good at this. I'm really just a delinquent. I've got no real future ahead of me...and suddenly this shit goes down, and I really have a chance to do something good with my life, ya know?" He squeezed again. "It's a weird ass feeling."

I swallow hard. This conversation is seriously draining me, and for some reason, I'm not shuddering from his touch. The countless times Ray had taken my hand, pinned it to my sides, and entered me...screaming...screaming...and then...silence.

Who's my good little girl. Good little girls are quiet while their being loved, aren't they? Let me love you, little Alice.

My whole body quakes under the horror of the flashback, but I don't cry, not in front of Jake. I've been drained of all my tears anyway.

"So what are you saying? You want to help me? Forget it." I say coldly. "Just get out of my life. I don't want anything to do with anyone. All I want is death."

"Don't be crazy. You're okay now. That guy Ray is dead...I..."

"I KNOW THAT! THAT ISN'T THE DAMN POINT!" I screech, feeling the pain boil and seethe and not caring a bit. "I CAN'T BE AT PEACE! I CAN NEVER BE AT PEACE! YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND THE CRAP I'VE LIVED THROUGH DAY AFTER DAY...YEAR AFTER YEAR...YOU THINK IT ENDS WITH SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS HIS DEATH?" I pant and pant with the strain of making myself heard. The pain of releasing everything that had been building up inside me for so damn long. How could I possibly be expected to hold back any longer?

"I HATE THIS LIFE! I HATE THIS WORLD! I JUST WANT TO BE FREE!"

And then this guy...is holding me. Just wrapping me in his arms and holding me like he actually understands. He can't. No one can. He is a bastard, just like all the rest. He dosen't hear me. Can't hear me.

He thinks this can save me. Just holding me and acting like the pain can just drift away forever.

He makes me sick.

Yet somehow, I don't have the strength to push him away.

Instead, I let him hold me. The pain eases itself to a bearable level, and Jake holds me for what seems like forever. I can't even remember the last time anyone has held me besides Ray, and that was when he was forcing me down, forcing me to love him...forcing me to strip myself of all that I had.

Jake wasn't nearly as selfish as him. Not by a long-shot. He might have been a drugged up addict in training, and surely he would never understand the pain I've endured...but he was trying.

And maybe that was enough. For him, anyway.

When he let go of me, he looked like he was holding back tears.

"Sorry, I know I should'nt have done that..."

"Yeah, you should'nt have...

"But its okay I guess."

He glanced helplessly up at me, and I sighed.

My savior was a real doofus.

"Sorry." He repeated.

I didn't smile of course, but for a split moment, I almost felt like I could.

Almost.

"What time is it?" Was all I asked.

"Around 9:00." He replied, yawning. "I'm kinda tired actually."

"You should go then." I said curtly, pulling the sheets up to my chin. "I'm tired too."

"I'd imagine so." He said. He stood up to go, then, he slipped a piece of paper on my nightstand.

"My cell phone number...in case you want to...I dunno...talk sometime?"

What a moron he was. Yet, what else could I expect really?

"Sure..." I said faintly, closing my eyes.

He started for the door, but then, rounded towards me once more. He stood over me for a second, as though contemplating something. Then, I felt a cool pair of lips graze my forehead. Cool, not warm or wet or chapped or dry. Cool. Not Ray's.

"Thanks again. For doing what you could to protect Lucy. It meant a lot." He whispered.

Then the door to the room closed.

Aching, familiar silence.

Uncertain future.

Uncertain recovery.

Uncertain everything.

For so long, I'd known nothing except, fear, torment, hatred, lament, and pain. That was the essence of me, all thanks to Ray.

And now he's gone. Just like that. Dead and rotting in a casket somewhere.

And I am left. And so is Jake.

Life is a truly lonely prospect. When certain people wander into your story, like Ray walked into mine, some doors open, and others close. People come, and go, and sometimes return for a little bit. Ray was gone now, and I am left, and so is Jake.

I am still trapped in this life. This hell, but maybe it is enough that I have someone who can't really listen, but at least wants to. At least cares enough for that.

It's more than I've ever known, at least.