Like all my stories, this just popped into my head and I wrote it down. Based on the song My Immortal by Evanescence. Great song. Not a whole lot to say about it otherwise. Please R&R. Enjoy

Sara's POV

Disclaimer - I don't own anything :(

I thought that I had let go. I really had. Tonight...well, tonight proved me wrong. The case had gotten to me. It got under my skin. More so then usual. It had gotten to everyone. The worst scene we had been to in a long time. I thought my wounds had healed.

But on this case I realized something, my wounds are the type that will never heal. No matter how good I bandage them, they will always be open and bleeding. Yes, I can stick millions of band-aids on them to hide them from everyone, but they will always be there. I will be scared for life. The pain that I felt was to real. It shouldn't have hurt that much. It hurt so much I thought that I should be lying in my death bed instead of standing in a lab full of people, each person clueless to my inner turmoil.

I need to get away. Simple as that. But this is the only thing I know now. This is my life. My friends. My family. It's everything to me. Over the past few days I've been tired. Not only physically, but emotionally too. I'm tired of life. Of living. Of waking up each day to face death.

It's funny, how I see death everyday, and yet it is the one thing I am most afraid of. I'm not afraid of pain. Sometimes I almost enjoy the pain...Just so I know I'm still alive and breathing. My fear of death is childish. I am afraid of the one thing that is inevitable. The one thing every person is promised. The one fate we will all meet. You would think after having been on this job so long, I would be used to it. That I could handle it. But my eyes have seen to much blood. Seen to many broken families.

I try to push it behind me. I even lock the door and throw away the key. Although, no matter how much time passes, I cannot erase the past. I can not forget what my eyes have seen. What my heart has felt.

When my mother would cry when I was young, I used to wipe away every tear. I would hold her hand tightly and tell her everything would be fine. I would try my hardest to fight away every single fear she had. Now, as I look back, I see how foolish I was. She held onto her fear. Much like I am now. It kept her going. Kept her fighting. Sometimes I hate myself for being so much like her. But I am not my mother. I am not who she was and I will never be who she became. Never.

I remember I used to look up to my mom. She was my role model...Well until that night...I smile just thinking about it. I was so young and innocent then. So naive. So foolish. I could never have taken her fear away. I wanted to be the super hero. I wanted to be the person who always saved the day. But now I realize no one can change the inevitable.

What happens, happens. You can't change time. You can say 'do over' and everything things goes back to being hunky-dory. Life is not a fairytale. It's a dark and cold reality that we all must face. We want to be blind. To not see the pain in the world. We only want to see the good in people. We want to badly to over look the bad. The hatred. Yet all we are really doing is creating a world of lies. Of masks. We don't want to see what's really in front of our own eyes.

When I was little, I would think that my mother was the greatest mother in whole world. Every young girl wants to believe that. If I knew then what I knew now, I would be able to see past her lies. Past the "I love you"s and "I'm doing this all for you". She never did a damn thing for me. She thought of herself and only herself. And now her face haunts my dreams. That night haunts my dreams. That's why I'm awake now, writing this. So that way, I will not have to face the nightmares I know I will see when I fall asleep.

Sometimes I still hear her voice. It used to bring me so much comfort. It used to calm me. But now, it only brings fear. Brings unwanted memories back to the surface. The ones that I have spent years burying deep in my mind. I've told myself that she's dead. Because, to me, she may as well be.

It's ironic, how the one person whom you loved the most, can also bring you so much pain and suffering. The person you looked up to so much in your life is the person you has scared you for life. The kind of scars that will never heal. The kind that leave you broken. Empty.

Grissom wanted to take me off the case tonight. But I told him not too. I lied to his face, saying I was okay, and he believed me. Now I wish that had. I wish he had just taken me aside and told me I couldn't handle it. I knew when I told him I was okay that I couldn't handle it, but I was not about to admit my weakness. I know I would have been angry and mad with him if he had taken me off the case.

But at least then, I wouldn't be afraid to go to sleep. He once told me that it was just empathy. But when the screams are so real, when you can smell the blood, that is more then just empathy. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm to weak to do this job. If I'm to soft.

But I will never give up. Giving up, to me, is quiting. And I will not quit. I will stick with this. I will keep waking up to face my demons each day for no matter how long. I may hate it. I may feel like giving up, much like I do now. But I will never give in. If I do, I will just be admitting defeat. I will be admitting to everyone who has told me I shouldn't do this job, that they were right.

I will prove to them that this is what I'm meant to do. Even if it it ends up killing me. I would rather die knowing that I fought for it. Knowing that I had earned my right to be there. So I will be lying awake in bed, afraid to close my eyes. But I will wake up and do it all again.

I will wake up and face death. I will face my fear.