Prologue
At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That's how we're made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them. But there are some lines... that are way too dangerous to cross.
Chapter One
I can't really remember how I got to this point. Well I do remember it how could I not, only sometimes you block out the pain or you try to at least. I look at the beer bottles scattered around me, so many just laying there empty but I cant stop, or is it that I don't want to, because then I'd have to admit I was wrong. There was a case at work, it involved a little girl, she was only 5, just 5 years old, beaten to death by her drunken father and nobody seemed to care. Nobody wanted to find out what happened to her except me so maybe I did form a personal attachment to this case. I should have controlled my emotions better, I shouldn't have let my own experiences cloud my judgment but I did and now I'm sitting her alone waiting to be sacked, for being disrespectful to a superior.
There was a soft knock on the door, I'd waited for this moment yet shamefully I wasn't drunk enough to be able to ignore it. I got up slowly my head spinning and opened it.
"What do you want?" I asked harshly never daring to meet his eyes because this was it the end, the man I loved for 11 years my boss was going to fire me, best not make it worse for myself by maintaining any form of emotional contact.
"Sara what have you done?" he asked, his voice pleading for my usual kind of normalcy to return. How dare he stand there and expect me to melt and tell him I was sorry how dare he come into my home and expect me to tell him everything about me. Of course we knew I would and it would end in disaster just like it always does. Nobody wants the beaten girl, silly little abused girl, stupid little fostered girl, idiotic little girl that's mother killed her father.
"You told me to find a distraction Grissom so I did, okay a great big alcoholic drunken gut wrenching distraction, if you want me to apologize for what I did or said to Catherine then forget it you may as well leave now.
"I just want to know why Sara." He whispered.
"Why, ha well I always seems to form attachments to men who are emotionally unavailable. you don't know how hard it is for me to trust people after what happened, and when I do they always seem to be emotionally devoid maybe that's always how it happens maybe deep down I know forming attachments to people like you means I'll never have to worry about people becoming to close because they would never want to. Of course I blame my parents for this personality flaw I seem to have adopted" and there it was, I said to much and this was a hole I knew I wouldn't be able to dig myself out of.
"What do you mean hunny what happened with your parents?" all rules were thrown aside I looked at him, genuinely studied his face, he looked so lost, never knowing how much was too much never knowing when to care.
"You know it's funny what you remember and what you don't, I remember what pajamas I was wearing and how her hair smelled when she put me to sleep, I remember the story she told me and exactly how her voice sounded when she told me that tonight it ended, that I didn't have to be scared of daddy anymore because he was never going to touch me again like he had for the 3 years before this incident. I was 11 years old. I remember the shouting and the sound of a gun shot, I'll always remember that sound, and for some strange reason I always find comfort in that sound, it symbolizes the end or at least it seems to in my cases. I remember running downstairs and hearing the ambulance. I remember sitting there and watching my father eyes glaze over and his heart stop beating. After that I don't really remember much. I vaguely recall a young police officer being sick in the garden at the site, and my mother being dragged off by the police sobbing and whispering her apologies. I don't remember the woman who took my hand and placed me in a foster home, and the only things I remember about my foster families were how it felt when they hit me, how it hurt when my ribs cracked and my face bruised I remember all the stupid excuses they would make up at hospitals and how the nurse laughed and kept reminding me how clumsy I was. Too think I thought this was how everybody lives but of course it wasn't. So maybe I over reacted when Catherine asked me questions, but all I saw when I looked at that little girl lying on a cold slab in the morgue was myself and no one seemed to care about her. Why couldn't someone just care about us?" I whispered with a bitter smile. Allowing the tears to fall for the first time in 25 years.
"I'm so sorry" he whispered holding me tightly. I did a double take did he just actually make some sort of effort to maintain any aspect of human behavior he may have had left. We sat there like that him stroking my hair and I lying in his arms all night, neither of us daren't move. That's when I knew it was the end.
Epilogue:
I knew that no matter what kind of warped fairytales you believed in, no matter how many times you dreamt about the night in shining armor that would come and take you away from the worries and evils of the world, and no matter how many times you tried to dream the terrors of the world away. It meant nothing, it was all a lie, when you trust someone as much as I did that night you realize that even through the rain there can be light at the end of the tunnel.
The End.
