Sorry for the wait! I've been back to working my summer job, so most days have left me pretty tired. And other things complicated writing, but more on that at the bottom.
As well, a reminder that this fic is rated M. I am committed to portraying these things like they actually are.
****TRIGGER WARNING: NON CONSENSUAL SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SCENE
The room was familiar to her, but she couldn't place it. Lightning laid in the bed, writing in her journal. She couldn't read the words she wrote, they blurred after they left her pen.
Lightning looked out the window, staring into the night. The streets of Eden looked busy, but Lightning couldn't hear a thing. The apartment room was very noise-reductive. Lightning knew that, but she couldn't remember why.
There was a knock at the door. Lightning closed her journal. "Come in," she said.
The door creaked open and Lightning's hands clenched around her journal. She remembered where she was.
Jihl Nabaat stood in the door frame, wearing a set of red lingerie that would have made any man's jaw drop. Lightning remembered it, the bra not even covering Jihl's nipples. A possessive smirk crawled its way across Jihl's face, her eyes saying: 'Mine.'
Lightning pushed herself against the bedframe, feeling her skin against its cool metal. She looked down at herself, now topless except for a lacy bra that didn't match her mood.
Jihl began to saunter towards her, sashaying her hips seductively. Lightning tried to get up, but rope tied her arms back to the bedframe. She was trapped.
"What have we here?" Jihl purred as she picked up Lightning's journal. She flipped it open and her smirk grew. "Why, Claire, have you been writing about me?"
No, Claire wanted to shout. A gag was over her mouth, the type she'd seen in pornos. She tried to shout through it, but muffled words found no purchase on clarity.
"'I think I'm in love with Jihl,'" she read. "'There's something about her that I can't put my finger on. Did I really find the one for me on the first try?'" Jihl cocked her smirk a notch higher. "Aw, Claire, you really think we're meant to be? I'm glad, because I think so too." She reached her hand out and rested it on the closer of Lightning's breasts, squeezing it.
Lightning thrashed against the rope, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to shout something, anything, but the gag held firm.
Jihl tossed the journal aside and climbed onto the bed and on top of Lightning. Each kiss she placed on Lightning's body burned, each subsequent one feeling more wrong than the last.
"Someone's eager," Jihl whispered, breathing hot on Lightning's body.
I'm not, Lightning tried to scream.
Jihl's hands grabbed at her pants, unbuttoning the jeans and pulling them down. Lightning tried to buck her off, but Jihl held her down.
Lightning sobbed, helpless.
She woke up, face covered in tears. Her hands shook uncontrollably and her blood ran like ice through her veins. She shivered underneath her blankets, looking for warmth when there was none.
Lightning clenched her fists, stabbing her fingernails into her palms. It did nothing to distract her from her own mind.
"Mine," growled Jihl's voice in the back of Lightning's head.
She was out of her bed, running to the bathroom. The door closed with a bang and Lightning locked it. She turned the faucet on over the sink to as hot as it would go.
Rasping breaths escaped from her lungs as Lightning dunked her wrist under the scalding water. Her other hand opened a drawer and fumbled for the razor she kept at the back of the drawer. It was cold, even against her shivering skin as she comfortably opened it with a flick of her wrist.
Her hand shook, the razor not even close to being held steady. Lightning looked down at her wet arm, staring at the two straight scars across the inside of her wrist.
"Hey, sunshine," Fang said in the back of her head, cocky smile and all.
Lightning flipped her arm instead, exposing the outside of her wrist. She lowered the razor against her now red skin, digging deep.
As she cut, Jihl's voice grew softer and softer, until it bubbled away.
Lightning's tears didn't stop.
"You're nothing! Less than nothing!" his father screamed, red in the face. He waved an empty bottle and smashed it near Snow's head. "I ought to kill you, you worthless piece of human refuse! You and that bitch mother of yours ruined me!"
Snow roused from the dream as he heard a bathroom door crash. He looked over to see Serah stir before falling back asleep. He heard the water begin to run in the bathroom.
The dream slipped from his mind as he sat up and sluggishly got out of bed. A yawn racked his body as Snow tiptoed out of the room, trying to make as little noise as possible. He closed their bedroom door softly as he walked to the bathroom.
The light was on, he could see it from the bottom of the door. Snow could still hear the water. Unease prickled his neck as the uncomfortable familiarity set in. All remnants of sleep vanished as he tried the door. Locked.
Snow backed up to break down the door when it slowly opened.
A haggard Lightning stood in front of him with her hand on the door. In her other hand, a bloody towel.
"It's fine," she croaked. "Not suicide." She spoke through tears, her cheeks a wet mess. Those were the only words she seemed capable of saying as she pressed the towel to her arm again, soaking up the blood.
Snow moved forward to hug her, but she pushed him back. Lightning vigorously shook her head, wild fear in her eyes.
"Let's go downstairs and get bandages," he said, taking a step away from her. For a few moments, his sister didn't move. The fear lessened in her eyes and Snow felt like she was seeing him again, not whatever spurred this.
She nodded and they walked downstairs.
Serah was in the kitchen.
She hummed the song her mother had used to sing when she thought she was alone. Serah could remember sneaking down from her room before she was supposed to be up and hearing her sing. She'd sit on the stairs as her mother went about relaxing before her children were supposed to be up.
Claire had never believed her when Serah had claimed that. Claire also never was an early riser. She'd lay about in bed all day if she could. She never heard their mother sing.
Serah didn't remember what she was cooking, but she sprinkled a little salt in the pot. Whatever it was smelled delicious.
The bathtub turned on upstairs. Serah could hear the water running.
"What are you making, darling?" a soft voice asked.
Serah turned to see her mother standing at her shoulder. She looked like she'd just woken up and barely tamed her bedhead.
Her mouth opened to tell her mother what she was making, but no words came out. She tried again, but she couldn't speak.
"Serah?" asked her mother. "Serah, are you okay?"
The water shut off upstairs. Serah reached out to touch her mother and her hand went right through the woman, as if she only lingered as a ghost.
"Serah?" her mother asked again. Except it wasn't her mother's voice, it was Claire's. Serah blinked and no one was in front of her. She tried to speak again and failed.
Water splashed somewhere upstairs. Serah began to run to the stairs. "Claire?" she shouted, her voice finally coming to her.
Water leaked from beneath the bathroom door. Serah pounded on it, shouting again and again. "Claire! Claire! Claire!"
There was no response. She tried the door handle. Locked. She pounded harder. No response. Breath ragged, Serah drew herself back and began to slam her shoulder against the door, trying to break it down.
The door cracked open, breaking the wood that the lock had been secured in. She stepped in a pool of water that far exceeded the confines of the bathtub.
Her sister floated in the water, naked. All around her, a red cloud spread. It grew faint and diluted as it drew away from Claire. Serah thrashed her way through the water, to her sister.
Vicious slashes at her wrists gushed blood. The same exact slashes she'd seen before. The left wrist, two straight slashes across the skin beneath where her hand started and the right, three furious, sloppy, jagged gashes that exposed raw cartilage.
Serah opened her mouth to shout her sister's name. She tried to call for help. Words failed her. They abandoned her. The bathroom melted away and the water began to rise until it submerged them both. They sank as Serah held her sister's lifeless body to her chest, crying and shouting into the water her sister's name.
"Claire!" screamed Serah as she sat bolt upright in bed. Her hands flailed for something to grab on to, one finding her bedframe and the other wrapping around her stomach. Snow's side was vacant.
The next second, she jumped from her bed, running to the bathroom. It was unlocked. She opened the door.
Empty. She reached a hand out to steady herself as a spell of dizziness came over her. There was no blood this time, no crying, no dying sister, just the uncaring whiteness of their bathroom.
Serah nearly fell to the toilet as she dry heaved. Tears violently fell from her eyes until she couldn't see, leaving her to clutch the toilet like a lifeline.
Breath returned to her and she stopped heaving. Serah's mind was still filled with one thing: her sister. Her hand grabbed the wet bathroom counter and tried to pull herself up. She made it halfway before her arm gave out and she fell to the ground, smashing her head against the floor.
The dizziness overtook her again. She persisted, pushing herself off the cool bathroom tile. Stumbling to her feet, she wandered the dark hallway to Claire's room. With disregard for noise, she pushed herself into the room.
Her sister's bed was empty, the sheets nearly all on the ground.
Numbly, Serah turned around and found herself running downstairs.
Lightning still shivered, even with the two blankets around her. Snow had bandaged her wrist up, though he'd made a bit of a fuss about whether it needed a medical professional's attention. Lightning knew it was fine, she knew how hard to cut to put herself in a hospital.
Snow set down a mug of hot chocolate by her. He had his own that he took a sip from.
They sat on the porch that connected to the back of their house. Nighttime still reigned and the only light poured through the glass door behind them as they leaned against it.
"I'm sorry," Snow said.
Lightning turned her head to him. She tried to ask for what, but the words didn't form.
Snow seemed to understand. "For how I told you that she called. I should have broken it more slowly or something. Or maybe I should have asked Rygdea for advice or something, I don't know."
"Snow, it's not your fault," Lightning said, finding words again.
"Isn't it, though?" Snow looked weak, weaker than she'd ever seen him. For as big as he was, a gust of wind could have knocked him over.
"It's hers," Lightning said. Or mine, she left unsaid. Instead, she said, "I don't blame you. I blame her."
Some color seemed to return to Snow's face, though he still looked unsteady. He began to say something as the door opened behind them.
"Can I join you?" Serah asked, voice low and raw.
Both of them nodded. She slumped down between them after closing the door. As she leaned against Lightning, the older sister stiffened.
Snow looked ready to say something, but stopped as he saw Lightning relax.
Serah grabbed Lightning's hand, careful not to touch the bandaged part. She held it, rubbing her fingers across her knuckles.
Lightning felt the shivers subside as her sister's warm hands helped her relax.
Author Notes: This was hard to write for me, as that first dream sequence is really hard for me having had a similar one. I hope the detail wasn't too much.
I'm an insomniac, but not in the typical way of being unable to fall asleep. I wake up a lot during the night, usually from dreams. More often than not, it's something stressful like getting chased by a vampire. It wakes me up, but that's something that can be explained away. However, a few times I'll get a dream that really fucking scares me to the point of spurring a panicked breakdown or suicidal thoughts. I've had dreams like these and each has been one of the moments in life I can remember being most scared because the things in them are so damn real. I had one of these last week and that determined the nature of this chapter. I thought it was important to talk about.
I imagine I'm not the only one who deals with this, so just know that you're not alone. Try to remember that dreams can't hurt you, but if it's still too much, call someone you care about after. It's important to feel safe.
For a note about clarity, each of these dreams are not memories for the characters. They are surreal and while based in memory, not altogether true to the actual events that happened. For me, dreams like these never are.
