Author: Minnie
Title: Tell Me This Isn't Happening
Category: Character piece – Isabel
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these
characters. No infringement intended.
Summary: Isabel has trouble dealing
with Alex's death.
Setting: Funeral scene in Cry Your Name
Author's Note: Dedicated to Ria because
she loves Alex. Isabel POV.
Tell me this isn't happening.
Tell me that I'm not really standing over your grave, letting bitter tears
fall, that I'm not clutching a long stemmed rose, letting its thorns bite into
the soft flesh of my hands and that I'm not holding a piece of crumpled paper
with my final goodbyes written on it.
No. This isn't real. You aren't gone.
Talk to me, Alex. Tell me I'm wrong,
that all of this is a lie. Say
something, anything and I'll believe you.
Why don't I hear you, Alex? Why do I
just hear singing?
I must be dreaming. Yes, that's
it. I'm dreaming of your funeral,
watching black clad figures climb up the hill in silent anguish. I'm seeing Max, Michael Kyle and three
others trudge your casket towards a shallow grave. Their hearts are too full of sorrow to notice the relative
weightlessness of the empty coffin they're carrying in their hands.
It's empty because you're not dead. You
didn't really die in that car accident.
You twisted the steering wheel just in the nick of time to avoid that
collision with the semi. You probably
took years off that truck driver's life.
But he's okay and so are you.
And you're on your way to see me.
Everyone will notice that the casket sounds hollow as it thuds to the
ground. I'll tell them it was all a
mistake, a big mistake. They'll open
the box and see you're not really there.
And they'll cry, Alex, they'll cry.
Tears of joy.
Everyone will be so happy.
Maria will look like she's going to faint but she'll snap out of it and
babble. Liz will stare at the hollow
coffin silently and break out in a
smile. Tess will purse her lips
slightly and then breathe an easy sigh.
Michael will yell a little but he'll calm down. Valenti will have questions but there's plenty of time to answer
those. Max will look relieved and stop
blaming himself for failing to heal you.
Kyle will quirk up his eyebrows and accept the belated birthday present
you'll be giving him: life on the day after he came to life.
Your father will snag us all by the shoulder and invite us all to go after you
for giving us such a scare like that.
And I'll just stand back and look at everyone and bask in the knowledge that
you're still with us.
Alex? Why aren't you here yet? And why hasn't this dream ended?
I can still hear the singing. It's
louder this time. It's Maria and her
voice is wobbly. She's dressed in
somber black with only translucent tears providing color to her face. She's looking at your casket on the ground.
Why is she crying? It's empty, isn't
it?
Oh, God.
No.
Oh, God, no.
That casket's not empty. You never got
out of that accident alive. You didn't
twist the steering wheel away from that semi, you pulled right in front and
crashed into it. And you died right
then and there.
This is no dream.
I really am standing over your grave with bitter, runaway tears falling down my
face. I can't stop them. Why can't I stop them?
I really am clutching a long stemmed rose, a rose randomly pressed into my
hands by some person. I see the thorns
bite into the soft flesh of my palms, drawing tiny circles of blood but I can't
feel the pain. Why don't I feel the
pain?
I really am holding a piece of crumpled paper with my final goodbyes written on
it. It doesn't have much on it. Actually, it doesn't have anything on it
because I can't say goodbye. I can't.
But I have to. Because you're
gone.
This is real, it isn't a lie.
You're dead.
Tell me this isn't happening.
The End
