Disclaimer: As always, ownership of the characters is not mine, they aren't even mine in my own imagination. Disney or Saban owns Power Rangers.
Author's Note: This is something I wrote a long time ago while I was working on my other stories, which I actually have some updates for but have to connect the plot points. I had to share this because I really enjoyed writing it one more. It was after a dream and I had continued writing until all of those creative juices left my body. So I hope you like it!
Dear Diary
Internally she was a mess. It had only been a month since her death. Outwardly she kept stronger for the others. Being the heart of the team puts more of a burden on her because they worry more. She really was tired of the constant bothering. She functioned normally on a day to day basis but once she was confined to herself she grieved for the loss of her fellow pink sister.
Within her diary she confided. She cried ink onto the pages rather than tears onto a shoulder; that time had passed. Her soul ached, wishing for Kendrix to come back. It was the ultimate sin as a ranger. To survive when precautions could have been taken to prevent these situations. As a veteran ranger, she should have known better. Mentally her problems ended there, but physically there were other issues.
It came on subtly - that is, no one detected it after the encounter. Cassie's morpher had drained her essence after being stabbed by the Savage Sword. Although she gained it back. She was considerably lost and now she faded away, slowly, from her ranger powers. She didn't notice till her attire consisted mostly of black and grey, barely and pink. The problem was how dirty she felt wearing the color, or any colors.
As time passed and her need to not wear pink grew, she felt that this was her punishment for letting Kendrix die. She would write in the confinement of her diary about the "power rejection." Steadily she grew distant from herself, sometimes split into two people while the other rangers were around. It only grew worse when she realized the color conflict moved to other colors that weren't pink. Yellow, red, blue, and even white felt repulsing.
Another month passed. The others obviously worried less because of her outward demeanor. Truthfully, Cassie was breaking at the seams. Unintentionally she would write her mind away into her diary and only when she was done would she read over her words. It always shocked her. The first entry was the most horrifying:
27 July 2004
Dear Diary,
I couldn't even put a pink barrette on today. Maybe I should tell the others? I wish they would notice that I am not alright.
I sat on the space observation deck today. Do you know that could be the best place to hang a noose from? It would be a beautiful goodbye. My friends, the stars, would be with me. I just can't seem to get that out of my mind. I just need to end it. My powers aren't even strong any more. Plus morphing is completely unbearable. It is as if I am being seared alive in the suit. Fire surrounding my whole body and then burning from the inside out.
Really though. To just feel the rope tighten against my skin and to have that beautiful view be my last thought and vision. It is almost poetic.
It scared her so much she didn't write for days. Then she left the ship to spend some time alone on a habitable planet, being that they were no where near Earth.
Once she settled, the hurting began again. Normal at first and it progressed further and further into what looked like her own personal Hell.
Not sure if I will expand on this. I kind of want to, but it might be a standalone piece. Thank you for reading.
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Please review.
Kharishma