HEY! I know it's been a while since I've posted a one-shot about Clyrnin, but here it is. Inspiration hit as I was watching the last twilight film. Yes, that is how much you all mena to me. Enjoy, or maybe not:
He was smiling at her in that way that used to make her melt, make tiny butterflies make a conga line in her stomach. But, now it seemed false, sickly, too sweet. I knew what he was going to do even before he reached over to sweep my long hair over my shoulder. He placed a warm kiss on my shoulder, the still healing bruise smarted slightly as his lips made contact with it, through the thin cotton of my jumper.
"Claire." He murmured, his lips moving on her skin, making it smart with each movement. The bruise was still tender, lime my mind.
Everything was in broken snapshots, my mind fractured.
My mind was telling her to scream, but she just sat there as he continued to move his lips deliberately over the bruise, his arms snaking around my her back, brushing the tender skin, the bruises.
My mind was trying to make it less painful, she wasn't sure why it still bothered.
Every movement was an ache, a feeling- emotional or physical.
"Claire, look at me." He said, his voice taking on a harder tone. Her eyes found their way to his face, it used to be so warm, now all I saw was damage. Cold, calculated.
This wasn't the Shane I remembered.
The Shane I knew.
But, I'd never known him, had she?
He was shaking her now, the feeling was connected to me, but it was if I was disconnected from my body, looking down as he threw me to the ground and started screaming at me to,
"SAY SOMETHING, YOU FUCKING BITCH!"
It hurt as he landed kicks on my already tender skin, but all she did was blink, a doe caught in the headlight- resigned to her fate.
That was what I was doing, just waiting.
She flinched as the door slammed, the key turning in the lock.
000
The four walls of the room were the same, never changing, the faded wallpaper the same as when in a fit of inspiration put it up.
Except that wall.
The wall that was stained with my tears, a vase of flowers, a cup of coffee, shards of glass imbedded in it.
It was that wall.
It was the wall that showed the most damage.
000
She was sat, the floor was cold. She traced patterns into the dust.
A hand connected with her face as he screamed at her. All I felt was a vague annoyance that it stung, and that he was asking once again who he was.
"I know your seeing someone Claire! JUST TELL ME WHO!" His voice was loud, echoing around the room. I didn't feel afraid as he ranted and raved, his eyes crazed.
She fell backwards, it was almost beautiful, the way she fell, a whimsical look on her face as he screamed.
000
His fingers were touching my skin, pulling the buttons off from my shirt, brushing the skin. She repressed a shudder.
"Hey, don't be like that babe." He slurred, his hands brushing her bra straps aside. I shivered slightly as he breathed down my neck.
She didn't even blink in pain.
000
I was late, and he was home.
She knew she was in for it tonight, a sick feeling of dread creeping up inside of her.
"Where were you?" He said, looking up from the glass of beer he was nursing in his hands.
She swallowed.
"Work, Shane. I just got kept behind for a meeting." I'd been fired, I had been fucking fired because of him.
"What sort of meeting?" he slurred, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine.
"Nothing important Shane." I said, my voice was plain, it wasn't supposed to be argumentative or tired.
"Really? Prove it." He said, and he slouched towards her, he was still taller then me her. She didn't say anything, staring at a point behind him.
"Don't pretend it's not happening, I'm here. I'm right here Claire, look at me."
How could I pretend it wasn't happening? I wasn't there. I was off somewhere floating, watching the event unfold, the slap that vaguely stung, the way the palm turned to a fist, and then how she fell.
No, how I fell.
Because suddenly I was right there, and everything was in sharp muted focus.
I couldn't get out, my mind was blocking me in, I could get out of my brain.
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
And then I realised why I couldn't escape to the place I'd been before, that half way place where I was floating, with feeling.
Because that had been the void between here and death.
And soon I'd be breaching it, permanently, and moving up.
000
"Please, Shane. Stop, it hurts." I murmured, my bloody lips making the words as he continued to hit me, kick me.
"And now she speaks," He shouted, his eyes wide and bloodshot, "too late Claire. If you won't stay with me, then you can't stay with anyone." He said.
000
I shut my eyes and suddenly I was floating again. His mad face emblazoned in the back of my mind.
Her chest wasn't rising anymore, she'd paled slightly, her face a bloody mess, her body beaten and broken. Her lips, bloody and broken, opened in a silent scream.
He was still kicking her, laughing as she made no resistance.
He stopped suddenly and he paused, getting down on his knees by her head.
"Do you understand now Claire?" He whispered, it echoed round in the chasm that I was in.
He was waiting for the corpse to reply.
He lost his grin and shook her shoulder.
"Claire?" He whispered, then he shouted, shaking her shoulder.
He put his grubby hand to her throat, I didn't feel it.
He put his head over her mouth and nose.
Over her chest.
A fat tear slipped out of his eyes as he rocked back on his ankles, falling backwards onto the floor.
Scrabbling away from the corpse he'd created.
He was by a table, the phone had been knocked to the floor. He picked it up and dialled 911.
"Hello, what's your emergency?" A voice asked down the line, it seemd far away now.
"Police please." It swapped, and another voice asked the same question.
"I'd like to report a murder." He said, staring with sightless eyes at my corpse.
"Of Who?" you could tell it was Morganville when they asked this first.
"Claire Collins."
There was a beat of silence on the end of the line before the voice asked,
"Where are you?"
He gave our address.
"Someone is on the way sir, just stay still and don't move except to answer the door. Do not go looking for the murder." The voice said.
"I don't have to."
"Why sir?"
"Because the murder is inside me."
He hung up.
And then he looked up, his eyes looking right at me, although he couldn't see me.
"I'm so sorry Claire."
Too little too late.
Wow, that was scary, anyway, please review!