A/N: All right, there's been a delay on my other story, A Fight Worth Fighting, due to my losing my old computer. Yes, I know, you're asking, how the Hell do you lose a computer? Well, it's quite simple - I got a new computer, better than the old, but I couldn't transfer all information from the disks that I got from the old computer. Now I have to wait until it's hooked up again so I can send the info from said disks to myself and I can continue from there. So... Until then, I came up with this one-shot that I hope will give you something to do while I sort through these technical difficulties. So, as always, I would like for a read and review, please. I'd really appreciate it.
Disclaimer - No, I don't own Grissom OR Sara... Hmmph. I only own me and the ideas for this story... Wait, I'm not even sure if I own me. Let me check. (Looks at back) "Property... of... Fanfiction...? What the! No!" Okay, so I DON'T own me. owns me. No wonder I work like a slave for this site. Oh yeah, and I also don't own this kick-ass song by Evanescence, Haunted. (Ahem people, hence, the title) Well, there's my two cents. Now go at it!
Haunted
By: MC New York
Sara's POV:
I couldn't believe the day I had... Or the case for that matter. A father would kill for his daughter, and yet he abused and raped her himself. His claim was that at least when he abused her, he could control it to ensure that she never was killed in the process. At least, not in the physical process. The long term psychological difficulties that child would endure, only being seven, would eventually make her wish she had been killed.
Now, why does that sound so familiar? And not just the mental death part? I thought sardonically to myself as I proceeded through my apartment, dropping my keys on the counter and maneuvering to the bedroom.
I still stick to my words that I said to Grissom when we found that woman in the desert, buried alive, when I first got here.
It amazes me what people do to each other. I remember my screaming over the sound of the chopper and catching my ragged breath from the anticipation of saving the woman.
Of course, it wasn't like it should've surprised me. After half of the things I'd seen and experienced in my lifetime, not much should've surprised me at this point, though I'm only in my mid-thirties. Between the domestic violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and murdering, I shouldn't be the least bit surprised by what people in this world do to each other. I'd already learned the hard way that the possibilities were endless. Humans had the ability to harm someone in a variety of ways, whether it be physically or psychologically. They had the power to provide love, but they also had the authority to relinquish it from you to cause the receiving person pain and despair. When I say it like that, it often brings me to question why human are meant for each other, shoved together because of society or some other bonding event. Why do people constantly surround themselves with things that could cause them so much pain - so much Hell? Long ago, someone had taught me that the answer was usually in the question, so my final answer was usually that people need to be surrounded by something at all times, but whether they could control what that something inflicts upon them is something that was simply uncontrollable. And thus does the circle going around and around.
Emotionally exhausted typically left me physically exhausted as well, which explained my non-hesitation to crawl into bed. I pulled the covers all the way over my head and willed my memories of the past to not sneak under with me. I wished them to plague my dreams any other night other than tonight - any other time other than right now. Yet, this was another example of one of those uncontrollable variables in my scientific experiment called "The Life of Sara Sidle". I couldn't control my active subconscious once my mind wished no more of this world.
Dream
"Sara! Run! Get out of here!" My Mother's panicked voice ordered shakily as I cowered in the corner, grasping my teddy bear between my eight-year-old fingers.
My eyes were open wide as I saw the pained and shocked expression shoot across my Father's face as he fell to the floor in the living room, on his hands and knees. My Mother stood behind him, brandishing our largest kitchen knife which dripped blood onto our grey carpet like the rain outside to the ground. Now, as my Father regained his strength, he began to crawl over toward me, only intent on finish what he'd started. I curled into a tighter ball and hid my face at this realization, wishing this night to end and move on.
"Sara..." My Father's voice gave a raspy call as he dragged himself across the ground.
"This is the last time you will ever touch our daughter, Michael. And if I have to go to jail to see you go to Hell, then so be it." My Mother said in a soft yet dire and fierce tone as I heard her drag him back away from me. "Run honey... I've got this, baby, I swear... Please run..."
Though half of me battled to stay and watch over my Mother as best I could at eight, the other part of me that was obedient made me scurry to my feet and scamper out the door into the pouring rain. My Father's words rung through my hears as I tried to out run the thoughts, but to no avail.
You are mine, now and forever... I will be the only one to have you. I let out a shudder, but it wasn't from the cold rain that beat down on my back as I ran.
Down the alleyways I guided myself. And as I ran, I slowly passed through the years until I'd transformed from my eight-year-old self to my current self. Stopping to catch my breath, I fell to my knees and held my head in my hands as I shook thoughts of my Father out of my mind. No matter how much running I did, I always remained where I was. It was like running in circles and progressing through my years as I go. The only thing that comforted me was the rain that pitter-pattered on my face, cooling my flushed cheeks. That was about it. Because no matter how much I ran, I always felt his looming presence straight over head - never escaping it, but never sure if I wanted to. My Father had always been a source of protection for me, except when it came to himself. He could protect me from anyone and everyone, but he couldn't save me from himself.
Long lost words whisper slowly to me
Still can't find what keeps me here
When all this time I've been so hollow inside
(I know you're still there)
"Oh, Sara darling?" That same sadistic tone rang through the air.
I leapt to my feet and faced him down the other end of the narrow alleyway, scrutinizing him with wary brown eyes. I looked nothing like my Father, I was glad to say. If I had to get up every morning and stare into the mirror only to see bits of my Father, I would surely die mentally a little more everyday than usual. Long, silky white hair hung past his shoulders and his extensive bangs fell in front of his face, masking up golden eyes that lit up like fire in a nighttime sky. Typical jean pants and a grey vest, shirtless underneath, was his choice of apparel. I owed nothing of his physical traits, and hopefully nothing of his mental traits as well...
I was dragged down by his gold stare until we were enveloped into complete darkness - a rainy, thundering black abyss. It felt strange with my Father... Forever and a day, I could recall constantly being outraged by him, which the end result of that was to fear him whenever his rage was directed at me. Yet, simply not because he was my Father, I loved him at the same time, like a typical daughter would love her Father. He was my protector, my savior... My murderer, my pain, and yet, I still could not fully hate him for it. Was it because I couldn't fully understand as a child that he was doing nothing but destroying me? Or was it because I at least appreciated the fact that he protected me from all the other people out there that wanted to truly kill me? Was I mentally sick for even appreciating anything about my Father, who put my life into such a tailspin it was still going years after he'd left - where he still haunted my dreams even thirty years after the fact?
Watching me
Wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you
Loving you
I won't let you pull me down
"Did you think you or your Mother could get rid of me that easily?" His sardonically smooth voice echoed in the abyss now, carrying on forever.
"Why do you hurt me, Daddy?" I felt myself slipping back into the timid eight-year-old when he walked toward me.
"Hurting you? Why, honey... I'm not hurting you. I'm saving you. From all these bad people out there. The people that want to hurt you. You are mine, now and forever... I will be the only one to have you." I gradually felt myself shrink down to the age I felt I was back at, but as soon as I heard his words, something ignited.
"No... You won't. I..." I paused for a second, timidness rearing its head in my feelings once again. "I'm reversing it now... I'm not running anymore. I'm not hiding anymore. I want you over and done with, now." I felt a power build inside.
"Very well... Let's take it from the beginning then." He let out a sneer as he turned around and walked off.
You are not running away from me now... I won't let you.I thought to myself as I ran off after him, determined to finish this once and for all.
Hunting you I can smell you
Alive...
Your heart pounding in my headHunting you I can smell youAlive...Your heart pounding in my head
The abyss soon dissolved under the rain and now I was back in the alleyways near my house. I knew he was nearby. The smell of his distinctive cologne stung my nose until it made me sick. Pushing the nausea aside, I continued on, in search for my life problem. As impossible as it was, he was alive... Maybe not in a physical sense, but he was still alive and he needed to be terminated. A steady thump sound formed in the back of my head as the smell got stronger, and I recognized the three-beat rhythm as a heartbeat. Flashbacks of the eight-year-old Sara Sidle, the abused and raped Sara Sidle, returned. It did not dissuade me from my persuing my Father. I had to learn to confront the problem when it presented itself. And this was now or never.
A dead end was the reward of my tiring run. Slamming a fist against the brick, I rested my head against the rough texture of the brick, stopping to feel the cool rain again.
"Come... Over here." A taunting voice call from behind me.
Spinning on my heel, I took a defensive stance upon seeing my Father so close to me. I could see a detailed reflection of myself through his golden eyes, which reflected the fear that my chocolate eyes held. And as much as I wanted to defeat my source of pain, I found now that I was confronted by it, it was impossible. My back hit the wall as I suppressed a gasp.
"Not so brave now, are we? I knew you would be just like your Mother when you grew up. A born disaster." A growl emanated from his throat as he glared at me. I shut my eyes and turned my head away from him. I felt his face come closer to my ear until I felt his heated breath brush past the skin on my ear. "Laura may have killed me, but I will never be dead... Not to you, not to her... I am here to stay..." Abruptly, his clutched my wrists roughly with his hands and crushed them against the wall.
A painful memory of one of the multiple times my Father abused me ripped across my closed eyelids. I bit my lower lip to keep from speaking, or even crying as I forced myself to open my eyes, not bearing the memory any longer.
Watching me
Wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Saving me
Raping me
Watching me
"No." I said after a while, after I collected myself. I won't let you push me down like this... Not any longer.
"No, what?" He spat in my ear.
"I won't take this. I will not be like my Mother and sit by and allow this." I slowly built of the confidence to face him straight on again. "I won't let you control my life."
"What are you going to do about it?" There was only silence when I couldn't respond with anything concrete of my plans. "Exactly."
My eyes slammed shut again, feeling my body and mind flicker between eight-years-old and thirty-five years-old. The slighest loss of courage made me go back to eight, yet a glimmer of bravery made me switch to thirty-five. I concentrated on a clearing image behind my closed eyes. In my mind's eye, a visual of all my friend, my family at the lab came into view. The people who looked after me every day whether I wanted them to or not - whether I gave them permission to or not. The people who would want me to fight back against my problems, to confront them instead of just suffering from them, or brushing it aside as if it were no big deal. The confidence came back strong and soon I found myself pushing against my Father, getting my back off the wall - getting off all of the safety precautions I ever taught myself to take.
"I'm going to get you out of my life... I'm going to get you out, and I will get you out for good." I said intensely back this time. "You are not my family... You are not here to protect me. And there is no room in my life for peoploe who are like that. Whatever power I let you have over me in the past..." I took a pause for effect. "I'm now taking it away."
Seeing the realization in my eyes made me realize that now it wouldn't be as easy. A fierocity of his own formed, and burned brightly behind his eyes. "You think it's that simple? Just forget about me?"
"Yes. You are not real. I can prove that. You only exist in my mind because I've allowed you to live there for so long. But no more." I continued to shove. "Your time is over now... I am no longer yours to have. You will no longer haunt me."
"Oh you are still so naive, Sara... You can never get rid of me." My Father shoved back.
"That's what you think. This is what I know." I yanked my wrists away from him and shoved him back with all my might. "This is my life, so it's my rules to abide by. You have no say in what goes on in my head." The confidence grew with strengthening images of Nicky, Greg, and Warrick. Catherine and Grissom soon followed afterwards, strengthening my resolve to fight back. "You don't exist anymore..." I stopped for a second, thinking deep inside to every memory that remained of him.
Watching me
Wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you
Loving me
I won't let you pull me down
"SO GET THE HELL OUT!" I yelled out as thunder crashed over head.
End of Dream
I shot straight up in my bed and stared around furiously, checking for the father that I knew never was there, and never will be there. That's when I noticed a warm, dry hand grasping lightly onto my cold and clammy hand. Following the length of my arm to the sight of the conjoined hands, I immediately looked up at the welcoming pair of blue eyes. I was immediately overcome with joy when I realized that it was the right thing to give a spare set of keys to Grissom for our one-year anniversey. He was all I needed right now.
Not even taking a second more to hesitate, knowing there was no reason to now, I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face into his neck, although there was a small hesitation of his arms wrapping around the back. Relieved tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that I truly could face down anything now.
"I faced him... He's gone." I spoke out in a small, muffled voice into his shoulder.
"I know... He was never there to begin with." Grissom's soothing voice washed over me as he rubbed lazy circles into my back.
We sat there in silence as I thought over my mental defeat of my Father, and I knew that only one more thing remained. To move on. At least it helped that Grissom would be by my side to help me with that part.
The End
A/N2: That is, unless someone tells me to do otherwise. I had to seriously get this idea off my chest - it was crushing me. Like I said before, awesome song though the lyrics are kinda freaky/creepy/confusing. Yet I found a way to put them into Sara's life... Figure that one out for yourselves now. But feedback is much appreciated, people! Please? Please! Thanks in advance if you do, and as for the rest of you... Well, thank you for reading, but now I boo you for not reviewing! Haha Peace!
Peace out, one love,
MC New York