What if things went differently? What if Suze was just as confused as a certain someone always said she was?
This is my first story on fanfic. I read a lot of The Mediator Series here and review for some of you. Like I said this is my first time so things might not load right and you might be repulsed by my lack of writing skills.
This takes place before Twilight. I will let you figure out the rest. :)
Lyrics are from Sarah McLachlan, "Stupid"
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mediator Series or any of the characters that you remember from reading. Meg Cabot owns the good ones, the hot ones, and the only characters worth drooling over. Thank you, good bye!
I can't believe he saw us.
The one second I let my guard down was the first second of the most disrespecting and regrettable moments of my life. I can remember everything about it. The pure pleasure, the heat, the sin. Everything he'd said, everything he'd done. The way his hands had felt on me. The strange smell of his strange room. The newness of it all had taken me. I'd let it take me.
I felt so completely defeated. There was nothing I could say, no excuse I could make up. He'd seen with his own eyes exactly what we had done. Trying to cover it up, -lying - would only make it worse. If there was anyway to fix this, it had to start from the truth.
But I couldn't fix this. There was no way I could make this right. I'd already burnt the dinner, already cut the wrong wire, already picked 'C' for my final answer to Regis when I should have picked 'D'. I'd broken something I thought was timeless, indestructible. And there was nothing I could do to take it back.
He confronted me. His face was horrible. The pain in his deep irises, the absolute torture that I had caused him was burning me. It poured from his eyes and slithered toward me, crawling into my gaping mouth and poisoning me. Making me feel low. Careless. Dirty.
His mouth shook as he recounted what he'd seen, what he'd heard. It was almost ironic how many times I'd wished to see his mouth speak with so much passion. Just not this type of passion, and not about this type of thing.
I sat there and listened as his words of shock and disparagement filtered into my own mind, making me regret what I'd done. Making me wish I could take it all back, all the feelings, all the excitement. Making me feel totally hideous and unworthy of anybody. Especially him.
What's more is that I hadn't realized how bad I'd been. It didn't register that my actions were anything but normal until now. How could I have been so stupid? Why couldn't I see what the consequences would be? How was I so oblivious to fact that there would be consequences? Why didn't I realize all this then?
I had taken all his words, all his beliefs and rubbed them in his face. I'd spat on them, cursed them, disregarded them as something worthless of my attention, consideration, or interest. I'd succumbed to the one thing he'd always fought. The thing he'd been battling for the longest time, I knew. I was weak, like wet paper. I couldn't survive against the smallest bit of pressure. I had everything to feel ashamed of and nothing to be proud of.
The worst part was that I had let myself down. By giving into him, I'd forsaken how I truly feel. I let the moment sweep me up and left all of my promises and goals behind. All my values, morals, and rules just seemed to melt away the minute he had touched me.
Words cannot described the pain I was feeling. The dead weight in my chest that told me I would never feel happy again. So, so low. The pain I was feeling because of him. Because all it had taken was one try, and I'd fallen. I'd fallen so, so far into a place I'd sworn I'd never go. Because of what he made me do. Because of what he let me do. Because of what I let him do.
Because of what I let myself do.
Night lift up the shades
Let in the brilliant light of morning
But steady there now
For I am weak and starving for mercy
Sleep has left me alone
To carry the weight of unravelling where I went wrong
It's all I can do to hang on
To keep me from falling
Into old familiar shoes
"I am so, so sorry," I said. But it came out chopped up and all congested-sounding. I wasn't sure if he could understand me. I wasn't sure it even mattered.
"I sincerely doubt that," he sneered. He actually sneered. I'd never seen him sneer. His perfect lips and perfect teeth twisted into a sinister form of expression that was so uncharacteristic. Never before had his face ever shown such disgust.
Until I had to go and ruin EVERYTHING.
I sat on my bed with my knees pulled to my chest, squeezing my legs tight against me. I was rocking back and forth, hiccupping from crying so hard. I could taste mascara in my mouth as it ran down from my watery eyes. I'd run a hand through my hair a few times. I'd spent hours putting it in curlers last night to look extra pretty for the student council election speeches. Now it hung limp and lifeless down my neck. A worthless waste of time.
He stood before me, one hand crumpling the fabric of my comforter so hard I new it would be wrinkled for days. His other hand was wrapped tightly around my bed post, the knuckles white. I'd never seen him look at me that way before. I couldn't describe the feelings portrayed on his face. There was only one I could find that looked remotely familiar.
That was betrayal. I'd betrayed my heart and I'd betrayed him. Somehow, in the heat of the moment I had forgotten about him. I forgot the way he made me feel. How could I possibly forget? He was the one who I loved more than I could describe. He was the one who'd saved my life numerous times. He looked out for me, he cared about me. Why - how did that knowledge escape my mind?
Behind him the window was depicting a setting sun. Blue had been erased from the canvas like happiness was erased from my mind. Orange and red streaks of flaming sky illuminated my dark bedroom. Stupid light, it wasn't supposed to be pretty. Nothing was pretty anymore.
Plus that's what his window had looked like.
He leaned closer towards me, a menacing glower to his eyes that scared me. He struggled wit his words. I could feel the heat of his anger. It was almost funny, he never had real heat. But right now I was sure of the evil warmth that was radiating from him. "You...encouraged him," he hissed. At the word encouraged he closed his eyes tightly and seemed to have a mental issue with forming the word.
I cried harder. Because he was right. I hadn't done anything to stop him. I'd given in and let him do everything he'd wanted to do for the longest time. I had let my self control run away with the sheer pleasure of everything he was doing to me. I bit down on lower lip hard, so it bled. He saw, but didn't care.
Stupid lips, I hate lips. Lips are horrible.
How stupid could I be
A simpleton could see
That you're no good for me
But you're the only one I see
Everything was so horrible now. Free will was horrible. People like me - stupid, weak and horrible people - shouldn't be allowed to have it. I'd proven to the world that I couldn't control myself. I wasn't smart enough or thoughtful enough to be in control of my own actions. Because I definitely wasn't in control when I was with him.
"What's worse," he added, just to make sure there wasn't a shred of my heart that hadn't disintegrated. "When you came home, you were...happy!" I sobbed, because it was true. I'd seen myself in his car mirror when he'd brought me home. I was smiling; a stupid grin on my face and this retarded sparkle in my eyes. That's how insensible I'd been. How could I not have realized how badly I screwed up?
This entire situation would not be happening if I had realized the consequences of my actions. Why, why had I not seen what I was doing? What had gone wrong in my head to make think that I could possibly let that happen? When had I become so irresponsible?
He clenched the comforter tightly before releasing it. His foot stomped hard on the floor, making me jump and causing more weeping sounds to escape from my mouth. I hate crying. But right now that's all I could do. I couldn't talk, my tongue had malfunctioned long ago. I couldn't close my eyes because when I did all I could see was him.
I thought about how I'd felt when I came home. I'd been so idiotic. I'd thought for once everything was right in my life. I thought maybe everything would be okay? How could I possibly think that giving into temptation, that forsaking my heart's true desire could ever lead to a better life?
He walked away from the bed, flexing his fingers then curling them back into fists. He stopped and stood before the window. Colors from the sun setting made a fitting background to his enflamed face. They were the colors of the fire burning my heart. The colors of the fire I'd started myself.
Love has made me a fool
It set me on fire and watched as I floundered
Unable to speak
Except to cry out and wait for your answer
But he comes around in his time
Speaking of fabulous places
Create an oasis
Dries up as soon as he's gone
He leave me here burning
In this desert without you
He shook his head, unable to even look at me, that's how low I was. The mere sight of me disgusted him. I bit down on my lip harder, the blood mixing in my mouth. I kept rocking, trying to stop the constricting throbbing in my head. I couldn't see clearly because everything was blurry.
But I saw him point a finger at me and I heard him say, "I don't know who you are, Susannah."
"Jesse!" I wailed, the pain of his words was staggering. Of course he knew me. He knew exactly who I was. I was the one that had forgotten for those few horrible minutes in his house. I felt the bullet wounds over every syllable enter my chest and stop me from doing anything. I couldn't even think.
But what he said next made the fire in my heart flare, enlarge to twenty times its size and cause my entire body to stop feeling anything but excruciating agony.
"My name is Hector," he told me. And then he dematerialized.
I shrieked out in pain, sobbing uncontrollably. I wasn't getting enough oxygen. But I didn't care. Oxygen was useless without him. I cried and cried. I'd lost him. He'd left me. I hurt him in the worst way possible. And I had no way of ever making it better. My eyes were working overtime to supply the tears that were sloshing out like waterfalls from my eyes. But crying wasn't enough. I was clawing at my comforter, my legs. I was pulling my hair in frustration and complete misery.
How stupid could I be
A simpleton could see
That you're no good for me
But you're the only one I see
Then I was lying on my bed, face down in the pillow, screaming. I was yelling at myself. I was hitting the mattress again and again. Then I was hitting the wood of my headboard. Making the skin on my fists raw and red, trying to give some physical form to the torture that was reigning within me. I kept sobbing, kept wailing. I couldn't stop. Just like with him, I was out of control.
I deserve this. What I don't deserve is Jesse. I don't even deserve to call him by that name. I was unholy, I was dirt, I was trash. I was unfaithful not only to him but to myself. I didn't deserve anything good when I was clearly so, so evil.
Everything changes
Everything falls apart
Can't stop to feel myself losing control
But deep in my senses I know
I kept crying, not getting up for anything. My pillow was soaked, but I didn't care. Eventually I had to lift my head for air. But I buried my face again after taking a deep shuddering gulp. The air was cold. My face was hot. I couldn't decide what the rest of me felt like because every other part of my body was numb. I couldn't feel anymore. I was broken. I kept my eyes shut tight, not wanting to look at the window where the sky was now black and star-sparkled.
I knew what black looked like, because inside I was black. And that was all I would ever see again.
So review, tell me what you think. I have more, but I'm not sure if I should post it. Thanks for reading!