Nothing
Chrissie's POV. Not sure on the title, PM me if you have a better one! R&R please. Amy x
Staring at these four walls I realise...I have nothing. I am nothing.
A string of failed relationships under my belt, built on pure lust and endless sacrifice on behalf of my partners. I was always willing to give but not take. I sought, longed, attention – it wasn't the wanting for love, it was a need. I craved to be showered with beautiful gifts and plagued with romantic gestures; every girl dreams of a fairy tale romance, which is never the case. Instead I faced a long line of trauma, disaster, pain and often seething women whose boyfriends and husbands I had apparently stolen. It takes two to tango, ladies.
I know that all too well. Stringing along two men at once, two best friends. They say I have a heart of stone; it's most likely to be true.
Love is a strange thing, a feeling I didn't experience until I met Owen. A charming man with a smooth, divine accent, how could a girl possibly resist the temptation? I was determined to get my claws firmly into him, and it's a rarity for me to not get my own way. Plus, what with my degree in promiscuity, I didn't stop there. Ed Keating. He had the brains as well as the brawn. But he also happened to be Owen's closest friend; best man at our wedding. Keeping up that great charade was difficult yes, but the adrenaline rush made it worth the while. I liked my men to be thrill seekers, which is why myself and Owen were a perfect match. The countless times we made mad, passionate love in his office...
Do you ever have times where everything's going swimmingly one day and the next, the world comes crashing at your feet? That's the only way to describe my feelings when I discovered I was pregnant. I was truly terrified. I wasn't even sure of whom the father was and I couldn't have been less prepared for that bombshell. A child had been in my future yes, but not yet. I still felt like a child myself at times.
I gradually got used to the fact that I was carrying around another little life inside me. I couldn't not really, I suffered from the most awful bouts of morning sickness. I spotted throughout the entire pregnancy but I thought nothing of it, assumed in was completely normal. Maybe if I had mentioned it sooner, my beautiful Amanda would still be alive, growing up, going to school, developing in to a gorgeous young woman.
Regardless of what I did, my actions would always harm others. I will never, ever forgive myself for the way I treated my mum. It was partly my fault that she died, in such an awful way. Everyone told me that I couldn't blame myself for what happened, but I could. I practically disowned her when she needed me the most. She made the odd mistake but who doesn't? She was still my mum. If only I had the chance to amend things, maybe things would be different now. I miss her.
I helped dad organise the funeral, it was hard. I couldn't face a eulogy so instead I chose a song that I hadn't taken much notice of before but listening to it after mum's death made me realise how much the lyrics reflected our relationship.
I've hurt myself by hurting you
That couldn't be any closer to the truth.
I sobbed uncontrollably; tears of such genuine heartache, clinging on to my dad as my body trembled beyond all control.
I seem to be a magnet to bad luck and pain, God knows what I must have done in a previous life. I honestly thought my luck had changed for the better when Stuart McElroy arrived in Holby. With his thick, Irish accent and eyes I fell deeply in love with. He treated me like a princess and I really believed he was my knight in shining armour. How wrong I was. The only thing that shone was the light reflecting off of the scalpel as he pressed it deep into my face and the glint of pure desperation in his eyes, those same eyes I'd fallen for. I knew I was infamous for my bad taste in men – a whole list of cheats, liars and philanderers – but never before had I fallen for such a psychopath.
A psychopath in every sense of the word. He was blessed with such a beautiful way with words, a gorgeous accent and the intelligence to be such a great surgeon. The perfect combination of characteristics that I was so desperately seeking. He took such advantage of my vulnerable self, obviously preyed on those with a fragile state of mind. He lulled me into a false sense of security, using every ounce of charm possible. Any other person in my situation, with my history of failed relationships, would have ran for the hills – no man with a framework as immaculate as Stuart's would be remotely interested in a tart like me? In comparison to him, I'm just a piece of dirt on his shoe, whilst he's a handsome god.
I truly believed he was 'the one' for me. After all my previous misfortune, I thought I was finally being rewarded with some amazing luck.
There's certainly truth in the saying that something's 'too good to be true' as that's the only way to describe my encounter with Mr McElroy. My eyes were clearly too misted over with lust to see his true colours; a man of pure evil hiding behind his charming masquerade.
The glint of such hatred in his eyes, the way he carefully examined his weapon for any remains of his DNA, made me feel so worthless, so stupid for not realising the truth before. As his clutch upon me tightened, the scalpel cutting deep into my face, I doubted I would live to see beyond this terrible scene. I am certainly not the biggest fan of Connie Beauchamp but I am grateful to her for helping me escape Stuart's clutches. Who knows what might have happened otherwise.
The physical scars may be fading now but the mental scars will never heal. You can't easily erase such a horrific act. The only good thing to come out of this was that it finally opened my eyes to what men are really like, after all these years. Some say the compensation must have helped and yes, the money was nice even though it once belonged to that animal, but it didn't cure the pain, physically and emotionally. I couldn't bear to work at Holby any longer, with so many memories tormenting me, so many years of sadness hanging over me. I had to get away. For good? I didn't know at first. I was originally going to take a sabbatical, sort my head out, but wherever I was, I couldn't escape the living nightmare. The looks from passers by were unbearable, the children pointing and staring as if I wasn't human, I couldn't cope.
I've cut myself off from the very few that care about me. I rarely talk to dad any more, he seems to have taken a shine to that Daisha girl anyway. It's not like he's even my real father so why should he care about me?
This empty house I live in, lifeless, soulless. What do I have but pain and heartache? Nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing.
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