I was broken, that much I knew for sure. I wasn't whole; I wasn't myself. At first it was just a hole, a hole that used to be filled with love. I know how clichéd that sounded, but it was agonizingly true. That hole grew more and more each day, hollowing me more than I thought ever possible. It hurt like hell; somewhat like a cavity, I suppose, though that was nothing compared. Everything reminded me of him, and each time, the hole would ache. No, ache was a devastatingly big understatement. I can't even begin to describe the pain. So each day, slowly, but surely, it expanded, until I just was torn. Shreds of who I used to be.
I didn't cry, though. No, I haven't cried since that horrible day on the beach. Bad Wolf Bay, it was excruciating how ironic it was. I didn't allow myself to remember that day. I liked to think I didn't cry because I was strong, but I knew the real reason; I was simply too numb. I had fallen prisoner to the numbness; it had taken over all that was left of me. I was there, but it was pieces of an empty shell of who I used to be.
The days passed, but I didn't notice. The names changed, but it was all exactly the same. Never had the statement, 'Out of one's mind' been so true. I took no notice to anyone around me, to anything anyone said. I tried my best not to think; I knew if I did it would be of him. I went to work at Torchwood, it was a way to pass the time by, and it was so easy to keep my mind off of him. I had my own flat too. At night, instead of risking a nightmare infested sleep, I took sleeping pills. It was something I told myself I would never do a long time ago, but it was just too risky. If I saw him, even if it was just a glimpse, I would break even more.
I loathed this. I was desperate not to think of him, but I wanted to hold on to the memories. I didn't want to forget. If I didn't have my memories, how could I be sure I didn't imagine it all? How could I possibly be positive that this wasn't some horrible, twisted nightmare I was stuck in? It all seemed so surreal.
"Rose, love, we're worried about you," I looked up to see Jackie, who was draped dependently on Pete. This was the first time someone had directly addressed me in months. Jackie sat herself on a chair in front of my desk as I realized I was sitting at my desk at Torchwood. How long had I been here? Time didn't matter anymore. There was too much of it.
"Rose?" Jackie asked, her eyebrows raised. I grasped the fact that she had asked me a question.
"What was the question?" I asked; my voice cracked from being so unused. I couldn't remember the last time I had said something that had more than one syllable.
She sighed, "We're worried about you. We were thinking that maybe…maybe you should see a shrink."
A shrink? I laughed a dry, humorless laugh. I'm sure I sounded hysterical, but I didn't give a damn. A shrink. So that's what they thought, their daughter had lost her sanity. Well, maybe I had. I just didn't know anymore.
"Rose, please. You haven't acted…yourself, I guess, since that day," Pete said, trying to sound reasonable, but failing miserably.
"No," I responded. My voice was sharp, and it made Pete flinch. I'm sure I would've felt guilty if I could feel at all.
"But…but you have too! Rose, you just sit there and stare, like you're not really there. It's frightenin'! You rarely talk, you don't listen, and god knows the last time you've eaten!" Jackie exclaimed frantically. Tears gathered at her eyes, ruining her heavy eye-make up. "Please, Rose, please go! I'm losen' my daughter!" She was sobbing now, and Pete rubbed her back comfortingly. This was horrifying to watch. The love that they felt for each other was like an aura, surrounding them. It was killing me.
"No," I said again. I was only faintly aware of the monotone my voice had.
"But Rose!" Jackie cried again, "You need help! This is not normal! You're not my daughter anymore!" It was crazy how desperate she was.
"No," I emphasized both letters, hoping they would just understand. If I went to a shrink, I would be forced to remember. Forced to recall all those memories… I shuddered to even think about thinking about memories. Huh, maybe I was insane. And besides, if I did go to see a shrink, all the results they would get would be an even more broken daughter, and I would get my own personal straight jacket. How delighting.
Jackie's whole body was shaking, and she was standing now, head buried in Pete's shoulder. He gave me an equally desperate look. Even after all my denial, he still clung to the little shard of hope that I would somehow, someway, say yes. It was disappointing.
"Please, Rose! I'm begging you! Please, please, please!" Her voice was muffled by Pete's shoulder. I merely shook my head. Pete glanced at me disappointingly before leading his wife out of my office. Good.
I didn't know how much time had passed, but it was dark out through my window. There was a burning, just below my collarbone. At first I thought it was just the pain that haunted me every day, and my hand flew up self-consciously. But something made my hand retract immediately. My hand had started burning the moment it touched my shirt. I frowned, and raised my hand back up shakily. It burned again. In an instant, I remembered what was there. My hand moved up and reached down to pull it out. It was a key, hanging limply on a string, glowing red with heat. I hated myself for it, but hope was growing inside of me. What if it wasn't him? The ache would only grow. But as the burning intensified, I thought I could spare myself one risk.