Disclaimer:
See chapter 1.
Chapter 2: She
It is amazing how much can change within the short space of a couple of hours.
Petty decisions you were sure could never have any significance, turn out to be the difference between life and death. And those 'dead cert' wagers made in jest with a devil, result in the loss of your soul.
She crawled across the shattered glass strewn floor, feeling the shards cutting deep into her flesh. Her breath hitched in pain at every movement and she suspected several of her ribs were fractured, if not broken. To make matters worse, she had her damn duffle bag on her back, putting even more pressure on her damaged ribs.
But it wasn't as if she had a choice if she wanted to avoid carbon-monoxide poisoning.
'See Gareth, the library was good for something…' She choked, the laugh morphing into a sob in her throat. A trickle of something oozed out her mouth and splattered her hands as she did so, and glancing down, she saw it was blood.
Gingerly probing her ribcage, she hissed in pain as several gave way beneath her examination.
'Alright then, those are definitely broken…' She resolutely ignored the voice in her head telling her that her lungs were punctured and that she was a dead girl walking, she just too stupid to lie down and stop moving. 'Get yeh arse in gear, girl, Wolverines' been in tighter spots than this!' She tried to cajole herself into moving faster, but her body steadfastly refused to believe she possessed an increased healing factor.
It was times like this, that she was grateful for her short, boyish hair, which left the back of her neck bare. The extra weight in this heat would've been completely unbearable. It was also one the only times that she was grateful for having an extremely flat chest; her harsh lifestyle allowed only a few such 'advantages'…
The flames around her blazed violently, as though they were incensed at the thought of someone surviving their inferno.
She'd never realised before that fire had it's own unique scent, like anything else.
A hot smoky, metallic tang. Was it possible for something to smell like heat? If it was, that's what she would swear fire smelled like.
Of course, she could be hallucinating from the fumes of burning plastic.
'Not much further now.' She told herself. Two distinct shapes appeared out of the black and red haze on the floor ahead of her. Revitalised, she dragged herself forward, her legs trailing limply behind her.
"Gareth?" She coughed again, blood spattering the floor and dripping down her chin, stinging her split lip. "Darren?" Neither of them moved. "Listen you poncy wankers, this isn't funny. We've got to get out of here! This place is going collapse any minute!" Still no movement. An icy thread of fear cut into her, penetrating deeper than even the glass shards. A charred scent assaulted her nostrils… "Gar? Daz? Come on you pilloks, up an'at 'em!" She called shakily.
No response.
Desperately, she shook them. Bonelessly, Gareth flopped over. She bit back another sob. He was almost unrecognisable under the mask of bruises his face had become. The only clues she had to it- to his identity, were the singed clothes and the tell-tale electric blue dyed hair. His usually bright green eyes were dark and glazed over in death. His face was frozen eternally in a rictus of pain. Her heart froze.
Hand trembling, she reached up and closed his eyes. Then, suppressing an agonised whimper, lent forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.
Eyes watering, she turned her attention to the other slumped form.
"Daz, c'mon man, we've got to move." She spoke softly, shaking his shoulder. Wetness seeped into her hand. As she pulled her hand back, the fabric clung to it slightly, setting her whole body trembling like a leaf.
It was coated in blood.
A throbbing started in her temple.
This-this couldn't be happening…
She'd been laughing and joking with them, not a day before…
This, it was her fault. If she'd just listened to them…
But how could she have known?
She should've known..
She had been the one betrayed.
But she should've never listened, never believed that someone could like her, could have actually loved her…
It had killed her family.
She had killed her family.
Like bile, anguish rose up to the back of her throat, choking her.
She had nothing else to live for. It was all gone. Everything…
The throbbing increased in tempo to a tribal, drum-like beat. It pulsed to the rhythm of her anger and pain.
Her mind could not quite get around that concept.
She felt like laughing.
She felt like crying.
"No…" She punched the floor, ignoring the ominous creaking of the building and the lancing pain that ran through her arm, as she did so. "No." She hit the floor harder and felt splinters spike into fist for her trouble.
Rage flooded through her, blending with the pain in her head, her heart and her body, blocking out conscious thought. Dimly she knew she shouldn't be doing it.
Something bad would happen if she continued to let her emotions get out of control. Her mind flitted briefly to the bottle of pills hidden in a secret pocket of her bag. She really, really, shouldn't get angry…
She didn't want to have another 'episode'…She'd been getting better, the pills blocked everything out…But her sickness made her vulnerable to violently emotive situations…
She didn't want to hear them…
But it was hard to think, even harder to feel.
The rage was melting her iron self-control and the effects of her medicine. She just couldn't hold it back any longer.
She didn't really care anymore.
As she surrendered, something in her mind ripped. It felt like the violent tearing off of a long hated and confining bandage. It was both painful and liberating.
She let loose a heart-rending scream as the babbling of seemingly endless voices assaulted her ears.
(-re does she get off talking to-)
(So what's left-)
(Twenty pounds! Daylight robbery!)
The voices were unrelenting, seemingly unaware of her existence. Snatches of sentences reached her, filling her mind and making rational thought difficult.
(-lying to my face)
(Oh father who art in-)
(God what's her problem?)
(It can't be-)
(Ugh, men are such pigs…)
(Do I have something on my face?)
(Fuck me, I'd do 'er)
(Food)
(What is the point?)
(Heh, wish I'd been there)
White fog was clouding her vision; her eyes burning and itching, making her reach up and claw at them blindly in an effort to alleviate the burning. Tears leaked out from under her closed lids
She had one moment of clarity:
Her friends, her brothers, dead, just lifeless corpses littering the floor.
The voices washed back over her, screaming, shouting, whimpering, cursing, all invading and overwhelming her.
She curled up into a foetal position and felt the grinding crunch of bone produce a blinding hot pain in her lungs.
"St-o-p…"She rasped, her breathing shallow and harsh. She wasn't sure if she could take anymore. She could feel the overcrowding, claustrophobic chattering of seemingly billions of people pressing in on her. Each struggled to be heard and then, suddenly through her mind's eye, she began to see flashes, vague impressions of scenes…
(And though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death-) Intense fear surged through her heart, as she stared down the barrel of a gun…
(Six pints of lager and a packet of crisps. Six pints-) Swirling ground beneath her feet, gnawing hunger bubbling in her stomach…
(Je me demande ce qui est pour le dîner…?) Smells, textures drifted over her palate while she started to salivate…
(Mommy?) Child-like bewilderment at a sobbing woman before her…
(Min vänner förstår inte mig alls…) Sense of sadness, a teardrop falling…
خائنخائن العهدعميل مأجورالخائن) A mob of angry people surrounding her, murder in their eyes…
(Я буду иметь мою месть) She watched the crumpled form lying bleeding beneath her feet and felt hate fill her heart…
What was going on? It had never been like this before! She was hallucinating hearing different languages! She was seeing things…Things that made absolutely no sense!
She shouldn't have surrendered, it was too late for the pills now…
How could she understand them! And they were getting louder…The scenes clearer…The pressure was building…Shit, her head was going to explode…She couldn't thin-
"STOP!" She screamed.
She'd changed her mind, this wasn't what she wanted! The primal sound was an oddly fitting accompaniment to the overpowering and elemental background of the inferno. Nothing mattered except drowning the voices out. Vaguely, as though it was happening to someone else, she felt her nose begin to bleed. It trickled slowly down her chin, leaving a wet sticky trail and the stench of copper .Her breaths came in shallow sob as the burning in her eyes increased in intensity. Scratching wasn't helping.
In desperation she stretched out, searching for something to concentrate on to take the pain away. Anything, anyone would do…
A buzzing sound began. She did not notice, her raw sounds of both physical and mental anguish deafening her to anything else.
Then, softly, so faint, she heard it. A frail voice, crying out for comfort. Paradoxically, she felt a sensation of warmth and comfort from it. This puzzled her strained mind; the others only gave her an intense feeling of violation. Listening to it and letting it's song wash over her was like being bathed in sunlight inside her head. It was…nice.
She didn't want to close this one out.
"You know you're crazy, when…you're comforted by the voices in your head." She wheezed wetly, trying to stop hysterical laughter from bubbling out. Her throat felt raw and bloody, much like the rest of her body.
A wave of frustration swept through her, she just wasn't concentrating!
'You found your focus, so focus!' She berated herself silently.
A quote she'd read from one of her many library sessions swam to the forefront of her mind: "We are born crying, live complaining, and die disappointed."
'Fuckin' got that right…'She thought bitterly.
Allowing her to body relax completely was one of the most difficult things she'd had to do. Reaching out, she grabbed Gareth and Darren's hands. It was hard though, because the smoke had become very thick and her head felt as though it'd been disconnected from her body.
They'd go together.
She focused solely on the one sweet, silvery heart-breaking voice and let its wordless speech flow over her. It was like listening to Italian opera; heart-rendingly beautiful, but no clue whatsoever what the hell was being said.
Thankfully, the other voices faded to a barely audible background murmur, leaving her slightly more able to think.
There was no escape. She was bleeding internally and had been for a while, not to mention the external cuts, bruises and nosebleed. Her legs weren't broken, but certainly weren't in the greatest of shape and she was probably suffering from carbon dioxide and monoxide poisoning. Her eyes felt as if they were on fire and the eyelids were heavy and swollen.
She wasn't getting out of here alive.
A sense of calm filled her and she allowed the voice to wash over her. She was doubtful that she'd ever wake up again.
Slowly, as she waited for unconsciousness, she began to notice the singing had words appearing amongst soft sounds:
(I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone who'll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
She'll get my support
She will listen to me
-
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
She will hear me out
And won't easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact she'll often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me
I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and with every breath
-
But when I'm asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly
Though things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
I'll get away with it)
Parts were missing, as though they had been lost in transmission, but even so, she felt an intense wonder spread through her. She completely forgot that the voice was a symptom of her sickness. It expressed exactly how she felt…Damn, no-one should feel like this…She felt pity and empathy sweep across her.
'Don't cry…' She wished that she could help the angelic voice, but she was too weak…
The flames were closer, much closer now and she could feel her clothes begin to smoke. But she forgot all about herself and strained to somehow offer comfort.
'Please don't cry…It'll be alright…' She felt her body tense as a tingling feeling spread through her body.
'Not long now…'
A disconcerting feeling swept through her. Her body felt as if it was being disintegrated down into individual sub-atomic particles and then slowly and painstakingly reformed.
Her sense of the surroundings disappeared. She could no longer hear the fire, feel the heat or her friends hands or smell the choking scent of death and smoke.
Exhausted in every sense, her mind gave up the struggle to comprehend what was occurring and let her sink into oblivion.
She...
She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind
Wait, waiting for a sign
To smash the silence with the brick of self-control
Are you locked up in a world
That's been planned out for you
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you
She...
She's figured out
All her doubts were someone else's point of view
Wake, waking up this time
To smash the silence with the brick of self-control
Are you locked up in a world
That's been planned out for you
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you
-Green Day, She
The light from the tear flared brightly and a roaring sound filled the room as a dark silhouette appeared, illuminated in its glare.
Author Notes:
Apologies for the angst. No, I'm not a sadist… grin Maybe just a little…
Let me know if you think the rating should change. I have been warped by TV so my perception may be slightly shot.
If you're uncertain of any of the slang or English words, review with your query and I'll get back to you. Or check out urbandictionary dot com.
I bet some of you are confused about translations. Here they are, in order (any mistakes really not my fault!):
"I wonder what's for dinner…?" – French
"My friends don't understand me at all..." – Swedish
"Traitor!" – Arabic
"I will have my revenge…" - Russian
Please review, feedback is good for the soul. The signed/verified only review has been disabled, so no one has an excuse…
Hey, where are you all going!