Hey! This is my first fanfic for this website! I would like to get some feedback... Not too much bad things about my English, I'm from the Netherlands... Tips about things I frequently do wrong will help. ;) Welluhm..., just read it, and please review. :)
Disclaimer: Apart from Ashlee, I don't own any of the characters.
I always thought I would never meet him. I didn't even knew his full name. She always talked about Gil. Gil ain't a full name. I told her the truth every week, for almost two years. 'I want to know who he is.' First, I asked it really friendly, but after a while I began to yell. The day I wanted to ask it for the last time, the day I thought she would break, the day I thought she would tell me, she drunk herself to death.
She knew his name, I'm sure she did. I think she wanted me to think he was a monster, that he would never take care of me. She never said one good thing about him. I knew that couldn't be the whole Gil, he would probably be a kind man. I think she wanted to 'protect' me. Yeah right! She didn't want to protect me, she never wanted to protect me of some 'silly' and 'harmless' thing like alcohol. She often offered me beer and wine, I never took it. I never wanted to end like her.
My stephparents didn't know his name either. 'She never even told us hér name, so how would we know hís. It's a miracle you've found her.' They didn't lied about it, they really didn't know. I knew it when they lied, they just couldn't lie, not to me, not to anybody. Just because you would see it in their eyes if they did. They didn't even lied about the fact that they weren't my real parents, so they wouldn't lie about this.
I searched for him. A lot. I searched until I was tired of searching. I realized I would never find him. I thought it would be better to go on with my life. And so I did. But I kept on hoping that I would find him some day. That means nobody noticed I still thought about it. I hoped in silcence. I hoped on the moments I wasn't thinking of something else. One thing changed all this.
I was home, enjoying my day off. I was standing on the balcony when I suddenly saw a big shadow coming over the city. I looked up, and saw the most horrifying thing I ever saw (until then): a plane. It was just a few feet above me. I was shocked: this wasn't normal. Immediatly I called 911. 'Uhm hello?' I was shaking a little bit. 'There is flying a plane above the city, it's flying just a few feet above my home. Something ain't right up there.' 'Just stay calm, miss,' the 911-lady said. 'It will be alright. The plane is probably higher that you think. I'll send a note to my collegues and we will wait for more calls. Is that okay?' But when I thought only that plane was scary, when it was flying thát close to you and you're home..., when I thought it was the scariest thing I ever saw, I was wrong. The thing what happened after that was the most terrifying thing I ever saw, and this time will never change. 'Oh my God,' I said, stil on the phone with 911. 'That plane just crashed into the World trade center.' New York, 9/11 was born.
I lost my stephparents that day. They both worked in the North tower, fourteenth floor. They were still alive when the plane crashed. Lying under her desk, Lily called 911. She was totaly freaked out, she knew she wouldn't survive. The moment she hung up the phone, the tower collapsed. She wanted to call John to say goodbye, but he never answered the call. And she would be dead if he would have.
A good friend of my stephparents, Mac Taylor, lost his wife Claire on 9/11. Because he knew what I was going through, because I knew what hé was going through, we decided I moved to his house, so that we could take care of each other. I lived with him for almost six years. The first two years only Mac cried. I wanted to be brave, I didn't want to cry. So I didn't. I went on with my life.
On the second anniversary of 9/11, I cried for the first time after the funeral. I was fed up with being brave. Mac was fed up as well, fed up with me being brave. 'You shouldn't be brave,' he said, 'you have to cry. Otherwise you'll never forget, you'll feel sorry that you were too stupid, too brave. Too brave to cry about something you should cry. You'll feel sorry that Lily and John were thinking you never missed them.' 'I always missed them, Mac!', I yelled, 'Always!' And then I cried.
But my tears didn't went away, like I thought, hóped they would do. Because I was in New York all the time, the pain was always there. When I was at work (since May 2002 I worked in Philly as a CSI), I witched off my sorrows and did what I supposed to do. As I drove back to New York, the pain slowly took over my mind. As soon as I entered the house, I was already crying. I never understood how I took it that long.
I decided to move to somewhere else. Somewhere far away from New York. My boss in Philly understood me, and he called some CSI-friends over the whole country. The last call was the best one. It was Las Vegas. They were searching for a CSI for a long time. This was to good to be true, for them, and for me. I signed for the job without saying anybody; this was something I had to decide alone.
For the first time since 9/11 I didn't cried at home. I was sure I had made the right decision. Because I wasn't crying, Mac became suspicious. 'Okay, whát is going on?', he asked. 'Something is different about you.' I nodded. 'I'm going to Las Vegas.' 'For a holiday?', Mac asked. 'Las Vegas ain't a place for a nice young woman like you.' I looked him straight in the eyes. 'I'm going to move to Las Vegas, Mac,' I said. 'I have accepted a job over there.' Mac was surprised. 'Why?', he asked quietly. 'Because I can't stand the pain anymore,' I said, feeling tears coming up. 'I love New York, but it always reminds me of 9/11. I never had a moment without 9/11 in my head. I'm tired of fighting the pain, the memories, the emptyness. I'm tired...' 'And there's no reason to stay?', Mac asked. He bravely tried not to cry. 'Just one,' I said. 'One that doesn't remind me of 9/11. Not always.' I knew that Mac some kind of felt he was my father. I knew that he was crying on the moments I didn't saw his face, that it would be difficult for him to let me go. Strange enough, he understood my decision.
He was crying when he dropped me at JFK. He was crying in a way I never saw him crying, and I was crying even harder. I hugged him. I hold him for a long time. I was leaving the person I loved the most at that time, the person who knew me so well, the person who played my father since I lost the person who normally played that role. Mac was the only reason to stay. I told him. 'You are the only reason to stay, Mac, you.' I wispered. 'But there are billions of reasons to go...' 'I know that,' he said. 'Just go.' 'It won't be forever,' I said. 'I'll come back sometimes. Just to see you. And Las Vegas isn't the end of the world. I'll call you every week, every day if you want me to.' We let go of eachother, except our hands. 'Every week is okay,' Mac laughed. We looked eachother staight in the eye. 'I'll miss you.' Now it was him who was wispering. 'I miss you already,' I said, tears in my eyes. 'I know that,' Mac said. 'But it's time to go. It's time for me to lét you go.' I nodded. A short hug and a kiss followed. Mac had wiped his tears away while he was hugging me. The tough guy, yeah right. 'Bye,' he said. I smiled. 'Bye.' I walked towards the douane, backwards. I held his hands for als long I could reach them. When I had to let go, I turned around en showed my ticket and passport at the douane. Then I turned back to Mac, waved, said 'love you' without making any sound. He did the same, 'Love you too'. Then I turned around and walked to the gate, without looking back. This was the moment I some kind of entered my new life.
This story has got another seven chapters. I'll add them one by one..., later. ;) First tell me what you think of this one. :P
