Note: Here's a new fic. It's a short one and it's very angsty so be warned.
Also this has a women in love with another women, don't like it don't read
it.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
She doesn't love me. I know she doesn't. How could she? To her I'm just an annoyance. Someone to pick on. Someone who gets in the way. I'm too young, too immature. Does that make me unlovable? She has someone else anyway. Someone older, wiser, and more attractive then I could ever hope to be. I hate it.
I hate it because I love her. I want to be the one who she looks at like that. With a grin that has something more behind it. It'll never happen though. And so I hate him, for taking what wasn't mine, but what could've been. . .maybe.
She's perfect in everyway, every shape, and every form. Her dark leather. Her cocky attitude. The way she fights. The way she talks. Her voice is so smooth and refreshing. I love it. I love her. So why can't she love me?
That's the million-dollar question for me. Why? I love her so much that it hurts to be away from her. At the same time, it hurts to be near her. It's so confusing, and it makes my heart ache. Constrict, until I feel like it's going to explode.
I sometimes wonder that if I was older if she'd be mine. If she would hold me at night. If I would wake up to her in the morning. I wonder, but that's all it is, wondering. I wonder what it's like to be held by her. To be kissed by her. Her lips on mine, her tongue on mine. It's all I can do, and it kills me just a little bit more every time. Wondering, imagining, and knowing that it won't affect reality. It kills me.
I found a way to kill the pain though. No, not kill it, only dull it. I have to wear long sleeves now to cover the marks, and I think they're starting to suspect something. I try to act happy for them, but it can't. It's too hard. Instead I rake the knife across my arm, my wrists, or my legs. Whatever I feel like. The physical pain just makes it easier to deal. I want to stop, but I can't. . .or maybe I don't want to. I'm not too sure anymore.
It's getting harder though. The pain doesn't seem to ever stop. And I can't ever stop the knife, or don't want to. Which ever. It's wearing down the team. My depression that is. They want to know why I won't do sweeps anymore. What if I get hurt? Then they'd find out my secret. I can't let that happen.
I go to the breakfast table, and I sit there. Just sit, no talking. They try to talk though. To fill the empty space. Asking me questions that I either ignore or answer as briefly as possible. It doesn't matter to me anymore. Even though I know it should. Even though I want it to so much. It doesn't. The pain just blocks it all out.
I want to feel. I really do. Something, anything besides the constant pain. I don't know how much more I can take. It consumes me. Controlling my actions, my thoughts. That's why I know it has to end soon.
I saw Reese storm out of the tower today. He's been doing that a lot lately. Leaving angry. Him and Helena have been fighting. But I know that deep down they do love each other. And so their fights hurt as much as their kissing. Helena sat down at the table. She was talking about Reese. And I didn't want to hear it. It only makes it hurt worse. It's started then. The pain doubled. And I did something I've never done before. I ran to my room and cut myself. I never do it in the morning. Only at night when no one can hear it. When no one will come looking.
When I came back out, Helena and Barbara were still talking. Let them, I don't care. Except that I do. Liar. I couldn't take it anymore. It needed to end. Which is why I'm here now.
It's late, and I'm sitting on the balcony railing outside the clock face. I discarded the knife a while ago. The blood dripping down my arms is refreshing. It's further than I've ever let myself go before. Eventually the knife just became too heavy. So now I sit, and I think about what could never be mine.
Everything has gotten blurry. And I feel like I'm underwater. There's a noise. I think it's a door, but I can't be sure. "Dinah! Dinah, what have you done? Why?" I think it might be Helena.
I know I'm dying. I don't have much energy left, but she needs to know. I need her to know. "I love you." I wonder if she even heard it.
"Dinah, you have to stay awake. Please don't die." She's pleading now. It's not my choice anymore though. I can't come back even if I wanted to.
"Can't." This only seems to make her sob harder.
"You can't die. You can't. I know that I figured this out a little late, but I love you Dinah." I'm almost gone. I think I heard her say she loves me. I know she doesn't, but it's a nice thought. Something to accompany me wherever it is I wind up. Even though without her, heaven could still be hell.
THE END
Note: I love that angst. Any reviews would be welcome, let me know what you thought.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
She doesn't love me. I know she doesn't. How could she? To her I'm just an annoyance. Someone to pick on. Someone who gets in the way. I'm too young, too immature. Does that make me unlovable? She has someone else anyway. Someone older, wiser, and more attractive then I could ever hope to be. I hate it.
I hate it because I love her. I want to be the one who she looks at like that. With a grin that has something more behind it. It'll never happen though. And so I hate him, for taking what wasn't mine, but what could've been. . .maybe.
She's perfect in everyway, every shape, and every form. Her dark leather. Her cocky attitude. The way she fights. The way she talks. Her voice is so smooth and refreshing. I love it. I love her. So why can't she love me?
That's the million-dollar question for me. Why? I love her so much that it hurts to be away from her. At the same time, it hurts to be near her. It's so confusing, and it makes my heart ache. Constrict, until I feel like it's going to explode.
I sometimes wonder that if I was older if she'd be mine. If she would hold me at night. If I would wake up to her in the morning. I wonder, but that's all it is, wondering. I wonder what it's like to be held by her. To be kissed by her. Her lips on mine, her tongue on mine. It's all I can do, and it kills me just a little bit more every time. Wondering, imagining, and knowing that it won't affect reality. It kills me.
I found a way to kill the pain though. No, not kill it, only dull it. I have to wear long sleeves now to cover the marks, and I think they're starting to suspect something. I try to act happy for them, but it can't. It's too hard. Instead I rake the knife across my arm, my wrists, or my legs. Whatever I feel like. The physical pain just makes it easier to deal. I want to stop, but I can't. . .or maybe I don't want to. I'm not too sure anymore.
It's getting harder though. The pain doesn't seem to ever stop. And I can't ever stop the knife, or don't want to. Which ever. It's wearing down the team. My depression that is. They want to know why I won't do sweeps anymore. What if I get hurt? Then they'd find out my secret. I can't let that happen.
I go to the breakfast table, and I sit there. Just sit, no talking. They try to talk though. To fill the empty space. Asking me questions that I either ignore or answer as briefly as possible. It doesn't matter to me anymore. Even though I know it should. Even though I want it to so much. It doesn't. The pain just blocks it all out.
I want to feel. I really do. Something, anything besides the constant pain. I don't know how much more I can take. It consumes me. Controlling my actions, my thoughts. That's why I know it has to end soon.
I saw Reese storm out of the tower today. He's been doing that a lot lately. Leaving angry. Him and Helena have been fighting. But I know that deep down they do love each other. And so their fights hurt as much as their kissing. Helena sat down at the table. She was talking about Reese. And I didn't want to hear it. It only makes it hurt worse. It's started then. The pain doubled. And I did something I've never done before. I ran to my room and cut myself. I never do it in the morning. Only at night when no one can hear it. When no one will come looking.
When I came back out, Helena and Barbara were still talking. Let them, I don't care. Except that I do. Liar. I couldn't take it anymore. It needed to end. Which is why I'm here now.
It's late, and I'm sitting on the balcony railing outside the clock face. I discarded the knife a while ago. The blood dripping down my arms is refreshing. It's further than I've ever let myself go before. Eventually the knife just became too heavy. So now I sit, and I think about what could never be mine.
Everything has gotten blurry. And I feel like I'm underwater. There's a noise. I think it's a door, but I can't be sure. "Dinah! Dinah, what have you done? Why?" I think it might be Helena.
I know I'm dying. I don't have much energy left, but she needs to know. I need her to know. "I love you." I wonder if she even heard it.
"Dinah, you have to stay awake. Please don't die." She's pleading now. It's not my choice anymore though. I can't come back even if I wanted to.
"Can't." This only seems to make her sob harder.
"You can't die. You can't. I know that I figured this out a little late, but I love you Dinah." I'm almost gone. I think I heard her say she loves me. I know she doesn't, but it's a nice thought. Something to accompany me wherever it is I wind up. Even though without her, heaven could still be hell.
THE END
Note: I love that angst. Any reviews would be welcome, let me know what you thought.