I know it took a while because I am all over the shop. I don't think Chapter 5 will be out for at least another month either. Stupid life of woe and blehness...
Issues in this chapter will be expanded upon at a later date. This is just a chapter for getting many balls a-rollin'
WARNING: Adult themes aplenty. Ok, One. - Sky.
Chapter 4 - Wasteland
Sunlight broke through the gap in Vicky's curtains, rousing her from what had been a very uneasy sleep into a very unwanted hangover. She groaned and brought a hand to her eyes, her thin fingers providing very little protection against the sun's ceaseless onslaught. Wrenching herself into a sitting position, where she could at least bow her head down away from her curtains, she swallowed thickly, wincing at the fur on her tongue. Empty beer cans and bottles of cheap cider littered her floor, and the disgusting smell was not helping her naseau at all. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and screwed up her eyes, before forcing herself to open them again and beginning the gruelling struggle towards the bathroom.
She lurched to her feet, throwing herself to her door and clinging against the frame for support. The cold wood was welcomed on her hot skin; Vicky slept in nothing but her underwear, as when she was drunk she seemed to get so inexplicably hot, an effect that wouldn't have worn off when the morning after kicked in. For just a second she let herself remain there, happy to have at least one thing in her life that would hold her up when she needed it, even if it was nothing more than a mere doorframe, but then her need for the bathroom far overtook her need to feel. She managed to conjour a strength from somewhere that propelled her to the toilet and stopped her from vomitting all over the carpet.
A stomach of bad decisions found their way down the sides of the porcelain bowl and with a grim sense of ease, one Vicky was sure wouldn't even last a full ten minutes before the naseau returned, she got to her feet and flushed the chain, leaving only the faint smell of pine fresh bleach to remain. The pressed her palms down heavily on the rim of the sink and stared at her gaunt reflection. She had lost so much weight recently, it showed on her prominant cheekbones and the dark circles beneath her eyes. And oh, her eyes. What a terrible sight they had become. Permenantly red-rimmed with a pinkish tinge that wouldn't fade until the sun went down, and then she would start drinking again and put it right back where it was. Her hair fell in shards around her face, the rubber band that held it back now lost in her stinking bed sheets. She ran her fingers through it, but found they became far too tangled when she reached the crown.
Every morning it was the same. It was her ritual, the only way she could start her day now. If it was up to her she wouldn't rise from her bed at all, but she needed to work. She needed the money, squandering it all on booze and almost missing the way it used to be the only thing she lived for. Now there was nothing to live for at all, as far as she was concerned, but there was Timmy to waste away for, and that was good enough for Vicky. There was Timmy to blame for the way she felt in the mornings, and there was Timmy to thank for the almost warm feeling she got when she was drunk, when she could pretend they were in love together, the alcohol almost making her believe it was true.
She spat into the sink, the last few traces of bile running down the plug hole, as bitter as Vicky felt. She hated the way she felt when she was drunk. When Timmy could do no wrong and she couldn't help but want him and need him and love him, but it was all empty when the morning came. All pointless. Timmy didn't love her, and he never would no matter how hard she tried to poison herself. A voice in the back of her mind tried to protest that she drank to forget all about the Twerp, but an even louder voice shouted at her that without Timmy in her head she was empty inside. She put her hands to her temples and scruched her hair between angry fists. If there was just a away to block them both out, that would be just fine.
Angrily she strode over to the bath, switching the shower taps on to a heat she knew she couldn't really handle, her headache forgotten for the moment in her rage. It was not surprising to her though, it was all part of the ritual. It was everything she had come to expect since she had fallen for Timmy. She removed what little clothing she wore and stepped beneath the steaming jet. She felt her skin recoil and creep as the temperature seared at her, but in some ways it helped. All emotional pain was forgotten while her primal instincts took over, telling her to get out, get out, get out. It's too much, it hurts too much, get out. But she wouldn't. Her body would just have to wait to get used to it, and that was final. There was no escaping hurt, she knew that much, and there was no turning the feeling off. You just had to accept it for what it was and try to live around it.
Then came the tears, and Vicky knew why. Love wasn't a blister on the heel of your foot, or finding yourself a little short in the pocket when your favourite band released their newest batch of melodies that you know would never be as good as 'the old stuff'. No, love was a brutal feeling that found a way to infect everything you did, and poison your mind be it asleep or awake. There was no negotiation, no compromise. Love did as it wanted and you had to find a way to let it live around you. She wiped her hands viciously across her cheeks and felt only warm water brushed away. This was why she cried here. Because then the water on her cheeks could be from the shower or her eyes, but she could never be certain. Everything blurred into everything else and if nothing was definate then maybe someday she and Timmy would be together. It was strange logic, she knew, but when she had reduced herself to what she had it was the only thing she had left.
Finally she crumbled, she always did, and she upped the cold water a little, just to make the assault on her skin a little more bearable. There was enough pain in her life, and there was no reason she should add to it herself. She did not straighten her back after leaning down to turn the tap, and instead chose to let her body fall to the same level, before collapsing entirely until she was sitting on the bottom of the bath, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears flowed thick and fast and did not take pains to pretend to be anything else. "Oh God," she managed to choke out. "Oh God, Timmy." In sheer desperation she slapped her outstetched palm against the tiles, again and again, her face showing nothing but raw, intense agony. She had never hurt so much. "I don't want to love you anymore," she whispered, though it never helped, and the morning ritual was complete.
-
Tootie had been staring at her reflection for so long that she was now happily looking through it, to the shimmering pennies below. The fountain trickled gently just out of her sight, and she smiled. She sometimes found it rather ammusing to note that her place of tranquil serenity was in the bustling Dimsdale Mall, but it didn't matter. She could sit here for hours and no one would disturb her, they would just walk by and carry on with their business, not paying the girl a second thought. And she could stare down into the waters and think about everything. About love and life, and how much she adored the both of them, and of course, about him. Speaking of which, she thought, checking her watch, he should have been here ten minutes ago.
"Hey Tootie!" a voice called. She snapped her head up, a broad grin on her face as the blonde haired youth made his way to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, which she was all too happy to return. "Hey there," he said smoothly. "Don't we look gorgeous today?" Tootie giggled and blushed, looking down to the floor.
"You're silly," she said quietly not looking up. Chester pulled her tighter into his arms and kissed the top of her head.
"That doesn't change the fact that you are the most beautiful girl in the world now does it?" he replied sweetly, and she linked her hand through his as the two made their way through the mall.
"Oh!" she said suddenly, stopping in her tracks. "I need a new calculator. Mine's dead," she said matter-of-factly. Chester smiled obligingly and led his girlfriend to the stationary shop, but half way there the couple were interupted by a shrill bleeping. Chester looked apologetically at Tootie and pulled his cell phone out of his jeans' pocket.
"Hello?" he said. Tootie listened with half an ear to the disjointed conversation and wandered off to gaze bemusedly in the window of a shoe shop. She spotted a pair of shocking pink stilettos with heels so high she suspected that they came with free breathing apparatus.
"Not thinking of buying a pair are you?" said a familiar voice behind her.
"Timmy!" she said happily, throwing her arms around the boy. He smiled and returned the embrace, before the two broke apart. Timmy found that once Tootie had ceased being so helplessly obsessed with him she was actually rather pleasant company, and she seemed to be working wonders for Chester's self esteem. Since the two had been going out Timmy could honestly say he had never seen Chester happier, and he was a pretty upbeat kind of guy. "Did you have a good birthday?" she asked.
"It was ok," Timmy said, not wishing to relive it. "Sort of quiet, you know." Tootie nodded.
"I heard Vicky's not..." she hesitated to use the word 'babysitting'. Timmy was seventeen after all, and boys could get rather testy about these sorts of things. "Hanging out at yours... anymore?" She knew that was a poor choice of phrase as soon as she said it, but at short notice it was the best she could do.
"Nope," said Timmy shortly. "She's not babysitting me anymore either," he said with a jaunty smiled. Tootie giggled. She was a little saddened to see that Timmy did not share her reaction.
"What's wrong?" she asked, glancing over at Chester who was still deep in conversation. "Not missing her are you?" she said with a nervous laugh. Timmy crossed his eyes at the pretty girl and stuck out his tongue.
"God, no!" he said quickly, before adding, "No offence."
"None taken," Tootie assured him.
"It's just all really hitting me, you know? Growing up and stuff. I'm not sure I want to do it."
"I guess no one really wants to," Tootie said sympathetically. "But you sort of have to." Timmy looked at her stubbornly.
"Pssf. I want out," he said, folding his arms across his chest. Tootie laughed and this time Timmy joined in, just as Chester came over to them.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Me of course," Timmy said quickly.
"Funny looking maybe," Chester cut in. Tootie slapped him playfully on the arm, and Timmy gave him a dry smile.
"I'll leave you two lovebirds to it, shall I?" Timmy said, giving them a final nod and disappearing into a sports store. Chester frowned at his retreating back as Tootie linked her arm through his, before turning to Tootie with a guilty look on his face.
"What is it?" she asked urgently. Chester sighed and ran his hand around the back of his neck.
"That was my dad," he said sadly. "He got into a little trouble with his car. It got towed and he kicked up a right stink, so they threw his sorry ass in jail." Tootie's hands flew up to her mouth in a gesture of shock, but Chester offered her a comforting smile. "Oh don't worry hon," he said gently. "I just have to go over there and pay his bail is all. I'm really sorry but I think I'm gonna have to cut this date short. God, my dad is such a jackass sometimes," he said, kicking at the ground. Tootie frowned at him and took his hands in her own.
"This is important," she said sweetly. "You go. We'll meet up some other time." Chester smiled.
"Ok, but there's something I want to do first," he said, leading her back to the very same fountain she had sat at for hours before. Inside her was a feeling of mingled dread and excitement. He was either about to propose to her or break up with her, and Tootie was fairly certain she wanted neither. He sat her down before taking the seat next to her. Ok, she thought, not on one knee. That only leaves leaves the other option... "Don't worry," he said softly. "It's nothing major." She breathed a sigh of relief and let him continue.
"I er, ok, I'm really bad at this. I er, just wanted to let you know something." He swallowed thickly and Tootie continued to smile at him, waiting patiently. "Look, the thing is Tootie, I've known you forever. Ok, for most of that you were obsessed with my best friend, but I still thought you were pretty cool. But since we've been going out I've only really realised how truly amazing you are, and what makes it even better is that you actually seem to want to be with me. I know this is pretty mushy, and I know we're only seventeen but I have to say this sooner or later there's no other way to say it. I... um, I'm in love. Uh, with you." He winced, as though expecting Tootie to stand up and rip his still beating heart from his chest and hand it to him, but she did no such thing. Her eyes filled with tears and she seemed to be having difficulty finding her voice.
So she just kept smiling.
-
Timmy felt lost. He had been in the mall a thousand times and he knew it back to front, but as he walked through the rows and rows of football jersies he felt completely stranded. He made his way towards the door and spotted a vacant bench, feeling that sitting down for just a little while would calm his nerves a little. He was halfway across the highly polished floor when he spotted another figure. She was slumped against the wall outside of a coffee shop, staring down into a paper cup and looking thoroughly depressed. Timmy was shocked. Only yesterday he had seen Vicky, looking slightly down but otherwise getting along just fine, and now here she was looking as though her world had crumbled around her.
Her eyes looked dry, as though she had cried so much her eyes were sick of it and refused to cry anymore. She was clearly cold, so cold she was shaking from it, yet she was sporting her usual attire, the green t-shirt exposing her midriff and thin black jeans. Her hair fell to just above her shoulders, giving the impression that it would have been three times longer if it were only brushed out. With a stange jolt in the region of his stomach Timmy realised he had never seen Vicky without her ponytail. It looked nice, despite her dishevelled state and with another jolt Timmy realised he hated it. He wanted to go over there and order her to tie it back up.
In his heart Timmy had always known that Vicky was rather attractive, but in the same breath he could have told you that it didn't matter. She was still mean spirited and nasty, and looking nice would never make up for that. But when he saw her stripped of every trace of meaness and, apparently, of everything else, he found that he could at last appreciate her beauty, even if he didn't like doing so. There was no attraction to Vicky as far as Timmy could tell, just a small understanding that yes, she was in fact pretty, and no, it wasn't only Tootie who was the lucky one. He shook these thoughts from his brain as he watched Vicky reach up and wipe away a stray tear that had managed to escape.
His instincts told him to go over there and ask her what was wrong, but he was frightened. Whatever it was was so terrible that perhaps if he went over there it would affect him too, and he really didn't want that. With thoughts of Cosmo and Wanda laying heavily on his brain he really didn't need any more anguish. A bitter voice in the back of his mind told him that he had no business going over there and easing Vicky's suffering. After all, suffering was what she dealt in and if she couldn't take it back she ought not to dish it out. Still, when the mighty fall they make one hell of a sound. With a final wrench of guilt Timmy tore his eyes from Vicky and headed in the opposite direction.
-
Tootie floated into her house that evening as though she were walking on air. As she shut her front door she noted that her parents car was missing from the driveway but she could still clearly hear sounds of the TV booming from the living room. It must have been Vicky's night off. Part of her wanted to just sneak up to bed and avoid a confrontation, but she hadn't eaten much through the day and she felt she could really use a snack. Quietly she walked into the living room, as if hoping that Vicky wouldn't notice her, and headed for the kitchen.
"Hey Tootie," Vicky said in a rather pleasant manner. Tootie was shocked. She had to admit that things between herself and her sister had gotten a little better in the last few years, but they were still not exactly close.
"Um, hi Vicky," she said nervously.
"You look happy," she said, though she didn't take her eyes off of the television. "Sit down," she said, waving her hand at the couch in which Tootie noticed she clutched a beer can. Tootie crossed to room and sat as far away from Vicky as was humanly possible without being too obvious. "Scooch up!" Vicky said laughing. "I don't bite! Well, not anymore..." she added as an afterthought. Tootie giggled timidly and moved up a little. Vicky lifted a plate off of her lap which held a sandwich and shoved it under her sister's nose. "Want this?" she asked. "I don't seem to have the stomach for it tonight."
"Uh, thanks Vicky," Tootie replied, taking the plate and placing it on her own lap. Vicky took a swig of beer and rubbed her stomach with her free hand.
"So what are you so happy about?" Vicky asked, finally taking her eyes off whatever programme it was she was watching.
"Oh, nothing much," Tootie said, a pink tinge appearing on her cheeks.
"Don't lie to me," Vicky said, waggling her finger at her sister and grinning slyly. "Is it a boy?" Tootie blushed even deeeper. Tootie wasn't really used to sharing like this with her sister but if there were bridges to be built between the pair she was more than willing to grab bricks and mortar and get stuck in.
"Ok, but don't laugh," Tootie urged, wondering why she would say such a thing. Chester was gorgeous, so what was funny about being his girl? Or was it just the fact that Vicky was the type to laugh cruelly no matter what?
"Scouts honour," Vicky said, glancing back to the television briefly.
"Do you know Chester McBadbat?" she said, and yet still her mind refused to let her believe it. She was burning up so fast she felt as though she was going to faint.
"Twerpy blonde kid with braces?" Vicky said, squinting at her sister.
"Vicky, Chester hasn't had braces for five years," Tootie replied dryly. "And neither have I," she added for no apparent reason.
"So you haven't," Vicky conceded. "Continue."
"He told me he loved me today," Tootie said quickly. Surprisingly, Vicky smiled at her, before draining the rest of her beer and throwing the can to the floor. The dregs of the alcohol seemed to have a dark effect on the red head.
"Love, huh?" she spat viciously. Tootie squirmed nervously.
"Don't you... Aren't you pleased for me?" Vicky looked as though someone had slapped her. She got to her feet and rounded on her little sister, the rage of so many years ago returning to her face. Tootie flinched.
"Do you know what love is, little girl?" Vicky snarled, poking her finger hard into Tootie's chest. Tootie could smell the strong scent of beer on her breath, but she wasn't a little girl anymore. She wasn't going to succumb.
"I do," she replied evenly. "It's beautiful, and wonderful, and I'm lucky to even have it." Vicky gave Tootie and exasperated look and straightened up.
"You're living in a fanatsy!" she yelled at the walls. "Love is not a good thing, it just goes around masquerading as one so that we won't catch on to it. Love is like a spoilt child that screams and bitches until it gets what it wants, and if you don't give it to it there's so much hell to pay. I hate it! I hate it, I hate it and I don't want it anymore!" Tootie wanted to say something, anything, but no words came to mind. "It hurts so much! It's so stupid, and I know I never asked for it! It's not fair. And you, you come in here, rubbing your perfect love right in my face! It's alright for you!" Vicky growled, rounding on her sister again. "He loves you back, but me? Mine? Oh no, he'll never love me..." Vicky screamed and fell to the floor, feeling drunk and tired and utterly ashamed. "What's wrong with me?" she asked, looking at her sister with tears streaming down her ashen face. Tootie didn't know what to do, so she just knealt beside her sister and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Sssh," she hushed her. "It's ok Vicky, it's ok." Vicky sobbed for what seemed like an age, before shrugging off her sister's hand and getting to her feet.
"I, I should go to... bed," she said distantly, before trapsing out of the room without another word from Tootie. Tootie looked thoughtfully at her sister as she left, wondering who on earth could have gotten her in this state, her earlier feelings of elation now all but gone. The floor was covered in empty beer cans and spills and things which Vicky had clearly broken out of frustration. The place was a mess, a wasteland. A reflection of Vicky, Tootie thought sadly. She suddenly felt a hatred towards the love she had been singing the praises of earlier.
Perhaps, sometimes, it wasn't so great after all.