Part IV
It's simple, isn't it? Get help. Talk to someone, tell someone. Just blurt it out! I think these things... and my own laughter echoes about my mind, disappearing into the dark abyss I call a heart. Simple... how insane. Simplicity exists in nothing except those things that were created to be simple. This, this, is not simple. It has not been simple from the start, and the end will be even less simple than the beginning.
It has been months now. I have lived in my darkness for months, and no one, not even my sister, has noticed. Perhaps she is rolling in her grief. I wouldn't know, I have not taken the time to look. I spend all day working, keeping busy. I get up early and get home late... just like Prue used to. Coffee is my best friend now. It keeps me going through out the day, though I silently curse it when it keeps me up at night. In truth, part of me is glad that I don't really sleep that much anymore. I don't have to dream. I don't have to see memories of Prue, our happy times and our horrid times. I don't have to watch every innocent die again and every demon laugh.
I can smile now. I have people convinced. I have her convinced. Our Whitelighter isn't completely entranced by my façade, but the words I speak seem to keep him at bay of my emotions. I can laugh now, just recently, actually. It sounds genuine, too; my high school drama teacher would be proud.
I'm not quite sure I can keep playing my part much longer. I will. I just keep thinking about the 'consequences'. You know, the things that Christians say about suicide and what happens to your soul afterwards. I've seen proof of things like reincarnation and ghosts, even heaven. But I've seen hell, too. There is a hell. So what all of the priests rant about, could it be true? They couldn't know. They have not seen all of the truths I have seen.
I may damn myself, but that is not an issue that I care about. Right now, all I care about is sitting here and watching my sister sleep. She does it so well. People speak of an innocent child looking like an angel in their sleep; perhaps they are right, though it does not now pertain to an innocent. She breathes so steadily, so slowly. I wish that I could live in this moment, with me here in this chair, watching the only person I love on earth lying there, asleep. I cannot stand it anymore... I have to go away.
My steps press themselves lightly through the room as I make my way to the door. If I could form words in my mind right now, I would be able to hear my Grams whispering her trademark 'never look back.' I turn slowly to look at the last of the Warren line. She sleeps so soundly; and turns softly onto her side, a single word whispering its way out of her lips. "Prue."
'Never look back.' My mind is made up. I slip out of her room and down the hall, courteously missing a creaky board. My room seems dark, dank with the stench of a death that hasn't happened yet. The bottle is heavy in my hands, weighing my mind down even further. The glass of water I set out for myself earlier hasn't moved from my nightstand. With numb fingers, I gingerly twist off the bottle cap and dump a handful of sleeping pills into my palm. This will be my first heap of pills, swallowed carefully two by two, until the rattling from the bottle ceases.
I will die like so many others... how horrible it is that these thoughts are so deeply ignored, that so many people drift wordlessly into the dark.
Fin