Left Behind

By Tigerlily

I've never been outgoing. Always the quiet one, I've gotten used to sitting on the sidelines. Don't get me wrong, that's how I like it. The world is a lot easier to handle if everyone is looking away.

Ever since I was little, Dad has been in politics. I'm not sure if that was good or bad, I don't have anything to compare it to. But it meant sacrifice. For my father, for the family, for the nation, I went along. I smiled at the parties, and looked pleasant for the cameras. I talked about simple subjects with major political leaders. I was polite and nice. The perfect first daughter.

That's why I was so excited to go away to medical school. Med school was an escape. I could be my own person, out of my sister's shadows.

But reputations tend to follow. Everyone wanted to know the Presidents daughter. And when they found out I was a reserved, shy girl, they grew board, and I grew withdrawn. It didn't help that the secret service followed me everywhere. I had not the spunk of Lizzy or Zoey, so I was lost in the background of politics.

In the beginning, when everyone was trying to become friends with the President's daughter, people would ask me about my father. And I wouldn't know what to say. I've never had the best relationship with my father. Liz and Zoey were always the favorites. Oh, he would never admit it. And he would certainly never intentionally alienate me. But he did. And it hurts.

When I was eight, my family, all five of us, went to an amusement park. There was one absolutely terrifying roller coaster that Dad just had to go on. Now, I tended to get sick on just twenty-minute car rides, so there was no way I was going to go on that roller coaster. Liz volunteered to go on it with Dad, and then Zoey. He smiled and said, "That's my girls." I didn't understand. Wasn't I his girl too?

Mom had to stay behind with me, even though I think she wanted to ride the roller coaster as well. We ate snow-cones while we waited. All the way home, all they talked about was the ride. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to interrupt; they were having so much fun recounting it. I think that incident pretty much sums up my role in the family.

I meant what I said my Dad, a few weeks ago during that reporter incident. I just wanted to make him happy. That's what I've been doing my entire life. Trying to make people happy.

Smile. Nod. Laugh. Excel. Succeed.

Don't you dare give any trouble, they have far more important issues to deal with. So I didn't.

But now they're going to get trouble from me. I hope it hurts him. I hope everyone finally realized I'm not just "the President's daughter".

No. I did not just think that.

I love my family, I really do. I just get so tired of being left behind.

Not anymore. This time I will be first.

The first to die.

There is a vial in my hand. I stole it from the med lab.

Sally does not know. Sally is my Secret Service agent. She is tiresome and stern and gives the impression that she has other things to do with her time. Why bother protecting me? Who in American has even given me a second thought?

I'm in my dorm room right now. I was required to get a single, so there is no roommate to talk to. Sally is outside, flirting with the dorm security guard. There is only me, the darkness, and the vial.

I look at it. The clear liquid inside shines with… with… something. Not hope. Maybe possibility. Revenge?

I wonder if I have the strength to do this. If I were truly a good daughter, I would wait until at least Dad was out of office. I'm not a child, I know what will happen. President's Daughter Commits Suicide the headlines with blare. People will wonder what could have possible happened to that nice, tight-knit family they voted for.

Yes, that family of four was very tight-knit. I was the only one on the outside.

I feel wetness on my cheeks. I've been crying without realizing it. I draw a shaky breath.

I can't do it! I'm too afraid to die, but too afraid to live. The telephone beckons to me. I could call Dad. Right now. I could tell him about the vial, and what's inside. He'd come down, and we would talk, and my life would make sense again.

I'm halfway through dialing when I slam the phone down. No. I've never bothered him before with my problems, and I'm not going to start. He's the Goddamn President of the United States. He doesn't need some depressed twenty-year-old weeping about how horrible her life is.

I pace the room, almost hysterical. What happened to my life?! I almost cry out loud, but that would bring Sally in.

I collapse in the chair. I pick up the vial again. I take the top off. One sip would do it.

I go and open window. I stare out on the streets below. The moon shines in, round and full. I lift the vial, as if making a toast.

"This is for you, Dad!" I shout into the night. "You won't have to deal with old Ellie anymore!"

I gulp the liquid down. It tastes bitter and burns my tongue. It slides down my throat, thick and cool. I can feel it land in my stomach, the feeling magnified by the knowledge of what it will do.

I sit in the chair again.

Oh, God, what have I done?

I'm crying again. The last thing I'll taste will be the salt of my own tears. I sob and gasp, but the action was done. I took the poison.

I lay my head back. It's time to die.

I did it for you, Dad. It was all for you.

*********************

Exert from The National Post:

First Daughter Found Dead

Eleanor Bartlet Kills Self in Dorm

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND- The daughter of President Bartlet, Eleanor Anne Bartlet, was found dead in her dorm room early this morning. She had consumed a poison assumed stolen from the medical lab. She was found by Secret Service agent Sally Richerdson. "She [Bartlet] was a quiet girl. It didn't concern my when she retired early," Richerdson, who was fired by a mournful Josiah Bartlet, said.

Although the President refused to comment, White House Press Secretary CJ Craig told reporters, "We are all grieved and shocked. The President is still recovering from the loss of his daughter. Please try to support us in this troubled time."

Chief of Police Steve Simmsen reported that Eleanor Bartlet most likely killed herself. "We see it all the time," Simmsen said. "A college kid gets a bit depressed, they have easy access to lethal substances, they decide to take that final step. It's really quite sad."

Eleanor is survived by parents Josiah and Abbey Bartlet, sisters Zoey and Elizabeth, as well as two nieces. A privet funeral will be held tomorrow at 10 o'clock.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please e-mail a review at : tigerlily@quincymail.com