Hey, this is my first casualty Fanfiction story and I've only actually uploaded one other story before anyway so this may turn out completely awful for all I know! Please feel free to point out my errors and mistakes and if it's bad please feel free to tell me and give me tips on how to improve (always useful.) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy! Meant to be posted on or only a day after Christmas but my internet crashed (and burned according to my sister but I saw no flames) so I couldn't upload until now. Well, I probably could have if I'd bothered to try the internet again but I don't tend to go on the computer much. Especially if the internet's on fire.
She'd never felt more alone than she did now. Or maybe she'd always felt like this but those feelings of loneliness had been buried, hidden by other emotions that had swamped her mind. Now there was no way of hiding the solitude she felt, no way of denying just how alone she was. Because that was the harsh truth of the matter; she was alone. Alone and lost, with no way of crawling back to normal, no way of escaping the feelings of complete isolation that haunted her and stripped her of her happiness. She had nothing, no-one to connect to. She was alone.
She glanced at her clock. Most people would be enjoying, or at the very least getting ready to enjoy a Christmas meal, but not her. All she had to look forward to was leftover shepherd's pie from last night. For her, Christmas meant nothing. It was just another day. Another lonely day. She didn't have any cards or presents to open like most people, though this was mostly her own fault as she never wrote any. Except one. But she never sent it. Never dared to send the piece of folded card with a soppy brightly coloured picture accompanied by a clichéd message plastered on the front. She always wrote an essay in the card but never found the courage to go and slip it through a post box. Always had time to write it, never to post it.
The card itself was all sealed up in an envelope, sat on the coffee table, name and address inked neatly on and everything, stamp carefully placed in the corner. She reached out a tentative hand, wondering if she dared to open the card so as to read what she had written, perhaps imagine how the intended receiver of the card would react, maybe picture his expression and the way in which he'd hold the card, where his fingers would go and if he'd drop it. She decided this might bring her comfort and so took the card in her hand, turning it over. She read out his name and ran her fingers over the ink, feeling the little dips in the pen tracks following each letter round. She wondered if he'd recognise her handwriting; remember it as well as she remembered his, if he'd picture how she held the pen, if he'd try and imagine her writing it like she imagined him reading it. Her fingers lingered for a moment over the corner of the envelope seal. Would he use a knife to split it open? No, he didn't do that, he always opened them with his hands. Would he rip it open or slowly peal back the seal. She closed her eyes to imagine him doing it.
Peal. She thought to herself. He'd definitely peal it, take his time and be careful not to tear the envelope. She did everything exactly how she pictured him doing it, right down to the tiny details such as stopping once the envelope was opened to take a sip of his wine. With trembling fingers she doubted he'd possess, she removed the card from its blanket of paper and ignored the overly sentimental image on the front, instead heading straight for the contents of the card, the writing, the important part.
Dylan,
It's Christmas so I'll try not to make this sound too sad and morose, festive cheer and all that. I've never
written anything meaningful or genuine in a Christmas card but I suppose there's a first for everything.
Not that you'd agree because you always hated change didn't you grumpy? Change made you even
more cranky than your usual grouchy self. Anyway, like I said, this Christmas card might actual have
a meaning, a purpose and I'm hoping it provides you with more than just 'Christmas Wishes' and a
mouse in a Santa hat or whatever the creature on the front is. It might be a rabbit now I look more
carefully. Either way, I don't think you want 'Season's Greetings' I think you want answers and I have
to say, I'd much rather give you the latter, which is why I think it's time I stopped waffling and got
straight to the point, isn't it? What was it you said to me on the night of the fire, 'you always did have
a big mouth' I think you said and you were right. I still seem to possess an inability to keep my mouth a
reasonable size.
Anyway, answers. Firstly, I was wrong. This is the first and last time you'll hear me say that but I was
wrong. You probably don't know what I'm on about but I want you to know that every time I tried to
defend myself or make it seem like I was the innocent party I was wrong to do so. We were both guilty
but I suppose at the same time that makes us both innocent, doesn't it? We both lead to the break
down of our marriage, after all, you can't get married with just one person and it definitely takes two
to form a divorce. The second answer I'm going to give you isn't really an answer, just a statement,
something I thought you were trying to tell me. Move on, Dylan, please, for your sake and mine. I
still love you and I think you still love me but I think the best way to show I love you is by letting you
free, letting you move on. That's why I filed the divorce and I think that's why the whole debacle with
Tom ensued. Because I wanted to show you I had moved on so you could too. I haven't moved on, it
takes more time than that but I don't think I can fully feel at ease with myself until I know you have,
until I know you're happy and maybe I played a small, tiny part in that happiness. That in itself is
enough to make me happy. That in itself is the best present anyone could ever wish for.
Love,
Sam
She looks up from the card only to notice that writing has been smudged and the card is now blotched and stained with tears. She wipes the tears away with her sleeve but they keep on coming and soon develop into breathless sobs. She hugs the card tight into her chest and pulls her knees up, hugging them into the card. She feels an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, knowing he'll be happy without her permission but she only wishes, as she states in the card, to play a part, even just a tiny one in that happiness.
And despite this she knows it will never happen because she ruined his happiness, shattered his heart. And he can, will fix it without her.
Please review, even if it's only a line! I'm hoping it wasn't too pathetic but I'll use the excuse of 'only my first casualty piece'. If you like Silent Witness please feel free to go read my one-shot based around Nikki but be warned, it's almost as bad as this!
Butterfly