Spoilers: Epiphanies through to Lay Down Your Burdens (Pt 2)
Disclaimer: Roslin's not mine. The song 'Hurt' is also not mine, although I wish it was, it's actually the property of Trent Reznor.
Hurt
By Socket
She shouldn't be here.
Laura's living on borrowed time, time that isn't rightfully hers.
It hurts to be here. Pain is her perpetual companion; the only thing she feels anymore.
Everyday is the same. Endless. Broken.
It should have ended. It should be over. She should be at rest… but they have denied her that release, they have brought her back without thought of the consequence. They have tampered with her destiny, and now, she is stuck in no mans land. Numb with the knowledge that she must endure this life again.
She's tired. Weary. Drained.
Each day, she curses the moment her eyes open. She wants it to be finished. But each day, she has to pretend that she's grateful to be here, happy even; others are watching her closely.
Laura stares at the bruises on her arm - wounds she has inflicted on herself, to see if she still feels. The throbbing sting assures Laura that she is alive and she cries, but she doesn't know why.
She's done her best; played her role, it was time to depart. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have survived Billy, shouldn't have lived to see New Caprica. It pierces her insides - the disillusionment and rage – this is what her sacrifice was for? This is it?
Laura wishes she had not lived to see it.
The cancer is gone, now a new illness eats at her - despair. It fills Laura's heart, wracks her body. She can't rid herself of it; carries it inside of her, always.
She shouldn't be here. It's wrong. She's out of step, out of sync with them all.
They should have let her die: it was her time.
Everyone she loves is gone. She wants to join them.
Life is unreal, she doesn't want it anymore, it's of no value to her.
She's done with the lies, hypocrisy and blood stains. There's nothing left for her here. Her continued existence is an error. A mistake. An oversight.
It burns, to live. It scolds her and Laura wonders how much longer she can endure it. The cracks are beginning to show.
She slips the chamella pills onto her tongue and closes her eyes, relief encompasses her – her only release is the sweet calm of the medication. It's the only way she can tolerate being here.
The pills make her hurt less, makes her loss bearable. Chamella stops her thinking, remembering… feeling.
She is alone. Truly alone. Friends have abandoned her – Bill is too busy, Captain Apollo stopped returning her calls and Billy is a distant memory…
They brought her back to leave her.
Laura chokes on the unfairness of it and struggles with her fury.
Since they brought her back, she doesn't recognise herself. She makes blunder after blunder; the cylon baby, the abortion law, underestimating Baltar's influence… The chamalla effects her moods, but no one knows she still takes it – not even Tori.
Laura wonders how her staff rationalise her unpredictable decisions. Maybe they don't, maybe they're scared to see the truth. She has become corrupt, a liar, a fraud - betrayed Lee, disenchanted Adama and let-down countless others.
She sees the bags under her eyes; people think it's the effects of stress and lack of sleep… she knows better. It's her addiction, slowly corroding her.
She's weak now and she thinks, let Baltar have it all, let him throw it away – let the people see their mistake, live-out the consequences of their choice. She can't keep fighting to save them when they won't even try to save themselves. Let them have their new President; she doesn't care anymore.
She's gone from being the chosen prophet to a pill-popping ex-President and it's too agonizing, too humiliating to face reality, so she reaches for the chamella.
She's sick of hearing her voice, of seeing her face reflected in the mirror. Tired of carrying and maintaining her body. It's too much effort, this constant attention to her self. It's ceaseless. Mercenary.
She looks at a picture of Billy hanging proudly on her wall and she feels ashamed… what would he say if he could see her now? The wreck she has become. She turns away from his smiling eyes – he's not here. She is. Well, what's left of her.
Everything she worked so hard for is falling away. The Presidency, Earth, hope… it's all come to nothing.
She wishes it were over. She feels a burning in her chest; grief. She takes Chamalla to kill the ache. The pills don't work as well as they did. She has to keep increasing the dose. After five pills, she still feels a tinge, a distant nagging – her heart tugging at her…
When the Cylon's invade, Laura's glad. She sees it as an out, an escape, and she welcomes it. She's ready for death, has been for thirteen relentless months. It's her time and she won't miss it again.
The End