Disclaimer:
I don't own Janeway, Chakotay, etc. I'm not using this for money. Yatsa, Yatsa, and Yatsa.
Claimer:
I own the characters of: Ireland Elizabeth Janeway, Jamison Rose Janeway, Moira Kady Janeway, Justin Chakotay Janeway, Cristin Hughes Janeway, K'Atja Lexi Torres, G'Iovanna Ava Torres, S'Kyler James Paris, Thomas Eugene Paris Junior, Kenji Hallen Kim, and Annique Nelle Kim.
I also own Justin Hughes Janeway, Nikolai Lucas Pavlik, and Eliza Delaney-Richards.
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The Depths of My Darkness
Part Three
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"I HATE YOU!" I screamed at my mother.
Now I know what you're thinking, 'Oh, Ireland, you don't mean that. You love your mother.' Well, have I got news for you. I hate her. I wish she would drop dead right now! I HATE HER!
"Ireland…" Mam starts, trying not to cry.
"Bite me, mother. You are an evil person, and I hate you! Go to hell and rot!" I yell and walk to the room adjacent to Sickbay.
Of course, I can still hear the adults in the other room. My mother's crying (bitch), and Uncle Tommy and Uncle E are trying to calm her down. As for Papa, he's walking to me.
I press my back up to the wall as he walks in. I'm nervous as hell – as well as pissed.
"Eirtae, come here."
I just push further to the wall.
Papa walks closer, "Ireland, I have never laid a hand on you, I've never hurt you, and I never will. So please come here."
"A'ight. You da' boss." I murmur and walk over.
He shakes his head, and pulls my chin up so he can look at me, "We love you, Ireland. We love you very, very much. And your mother is just trying to keep you safe and alive."
"By confining me to Sickbay for two more weeks?!?!" I cry, stepping back.
"Yes."
"Well, ya' know what. That's crap, Papa. That's B.S. and you know it! She just doesn't want to look at me because I'm a disappointment. I was never good enough and I never will be, and she doesn't get that I'm not perfect."
"That's not true, and you know it!" Papa counters, "She has always known that you aren't perfect and neither me nor your mother think of you as a disappointment."
"Then take me home! Let me go to the holo-deck! Let me see Anva or Atex or Kenny! Let me see my sisters and J.C.! Just get me out of this place! I want to be home for Christmas!"
"Sweetie, you don't even like Christmas."
"Just because I despise it doesn't mean that I have to miss J.C. and Cristy's first one!"
"Sorry."
I turn my back to him, "Go away."
"No." Papa says softly, "Eirtae, why are you still fighting us? You already admitted that you have a problem…"
"No! I didn't! I told Uncle Tommy that I cut and that I skip meals, but I never said I had a problem! I can stop when I want."
"Then why'd you tell your uncle that you can't stop?"
"Because I thought it would get you people off my back."
Papa sighs, "Well, sweetheart, I'll see you in a little while."
With that, he leaves. No kiss, no 'everything's going to be fine' talk, no hug, no 'I love you', nothing. He just walks away.
And he wonders why I hate – it's because I'm hated by everyone.
-*-*-
Okay, day one of confinement went relatively well. Of course, around noon I started twitching. Strange. I didn't think a person went through withdrawal from cutting.
Uncle Tommy walks into the room and hands me a PADD, "G'Iovanna…"
"Anva."
"Right, Anva, asked me if I could bring you a note."
"Thanks." I tell him, taking it and read it.
Eirtae –
Hey. Everyone heard what happened. Robbie is so upset that he hasn't been outside of his quarters in like three days.
Eirtae, can you explain to me why? Or why you didn't tell me? I realize I sound like my Dad, but you coulda told me. I would have understood and you damn well know it.
I have to go. I'll see about coming to see you later.
-- Anva.
Is everyone going to bitch at me?!?! Now Anva's in on it! I'm going to kill her.
"Ireland," Uncle E says, walking over, "I walk to see your arms."
"Why?"
"Because there's some thing missing out of the cabinet."
"And that would be?"
"Just show me."
I've I mentioned I wish I were dead? "Fine." I pull up my sleeves.
He looks all over them and then looks at me, "You've been picking at the scabs again."
I just stare at the ceiling.
"Ireland Janeway!"
I hate my name. "What?"
"Why have you been picking them?"
"Because I feel like it." I reply, putting as much venom as possible in my voice.
Uncle E sighs, "Well, stop it or we'll go back to having the restraints."
"Yes, sir." I tell him, and he walks away. I know full well that that's Uncle Tommy and Uncle E's only tactic for keeping me in line. I'm scared to death of not being able to move. I don't even remember why anymore, I just remember the emotions. The fear, the sadness, the helplessness. It's like Uncle Tommy's fear of the stasis tubes.
And speaking of the devil, "What's up?"
Uncle Tommy looks at me and shakes his head, "Guess who's playing therapist for you."
"You."
"How'd you know?"
"Well it wasn't going to be Papa."
"So, do you want to go on the holo-deck?"
"Hello! I'm not allowed to leave Sickbay!"
"Nah, I got permission to take you out."
"Mentiroso, Mentiroso, Su pantalones son en fuego."
"I don't know Spanish, Eirtae."
"I said, Liar, Liar, your pants are on fire."
"Oh really." He held up a PADD for me to look at.
"Well, I temporarily love my mother again."
"That's a start. Come on." He says, taking my hand.
I pull my hand back, "No."
"No?"
"Everyone's going to be afraid and pity me. I'd rather stay here."
"They're not going to be afraid or pity you, believe me they won't. Everyone's just nervous that you could hurt yourself again."
"Uncle Tommy, I know what it's called. It's called cutting and you can actually say the word. It doesn't bother me." I turn my head away.
"Oh really."
"Really."
"Fine. We're nervous that you could cut again, and it's something we'd rather avoid."
"Uh huh. So what's on the agenda first, doc?"
Uncle Tommy smiled, "Well your sense of humor is back."
Well would you rather I bitch and yell and shit like that? Humor that's all that's keeping you people from saying I'm fucking insane. Of course, I prolly am.
"Eirtae, snap out of it!"
"What?" I whine.
"So you gonna tell me why you told your father that you could stop if you wanted and that you just said stuff to get us off your back?"
"Because I want to go home."
He nods, "We knew that from the beginning."
"Well, I should hope so with all the screaming I did."
I carefully slide two of my fingers into my shirt sleeve and begin to pick at one of the scabs. Luckily, Uncle Tommy doesn't see. He keeps talking and I keep answering, all the while he doesn't realize what I'm doing.
I am good!
Aww, shit.
"Ireland, you're bleeding!"
Astute observation, Watson! You're an f-ing genius.
"Give me your arm."
"No."
Uncle Tommy grabs my wrist and pulls my arm forward. He proceeds to shove my sleeve painfully up my arm, making me happy.
"Hey, Doc!"
Uncle E appears in all his holo-gram glory, "What happened?"
"She picked them again." Uncle Tommy replies and grabs a dermal regenerator, "Now I'm sure you're in withdrawal."
I try to pull my arm back, and only get Uncle E holding me.
"Not again, Eirtae." He says, gesturing to the hyposprays, which reminds me that he could sedate me in an instant.
Sighing, I give up my fight. I'm just not in the mood to dream of Justie.
"That's better." Uncle Tommy looks up at me. He releases my arm. "You have to stop, or you will never go home." He stops and shakes his head, "Sounds like something your mother would say."
"Oh, great, now I'm my mother!" I snort.
"Go to bed now." He orders.
Lovely. I feel like I'm in the brig. But of course, I obey, and he grabs a chair. He places it next to my bed.
"What are you, the guard?"
"Yep."
At least there aren't any restraints.
-*-*-
"Ireland was my best friend. She was the only one who could make me laugh when my mom was being more Klingon then human." G'Iovanna spoke, "She loved to play with the younger kids, especially Cristy and J.C. and Kyle was her favorite person to wreak havok with. I'm going to miss her playing with the holo-deck and kicking our butts at human chess. I'm going to miss the way she'd always get us out of trouble, and how she loved to be with us. I hope she's happy with Justie, where ever they are."
G'Iovanna sat down in her seat, and K'Atja stood up. She walked over to the podium, "I can't really say much more then G'Iovanna did. I know I'm going to miss her calling us by our nicknames. I guess I'll miss being called Atex, but it was her idea to come up with them, and wouldn't want to keep it if she wasn't here to be called Eirtae. I'm going to miss her so much."
K'Atja sat down, and looked at the coffin in front of the people.
Ireland was laid out, dressed in her favorite outfit – a silver dress that came to her ankles. Around her neck she wore a choker of blue velvet with a teardrop pearl hanging in the middle. Her hair was so ornately done, that no one would ever be able to recreate it. She wore no shoes, as in life she didn't like them anyway. On her left hand, on her ring finger, was a silver band with an aquamarine stone.
The coffin had been lined with the blanket from her bed, and in her right hand she held both a rosary and her baby blanket. The pillow under her head was Moi's and the one at her feet was Jami's. J.C. and Cristy's pictures were taped up on the inside. The final touch had been Tom's idea – two rattles, one blue and one pink, were on either side of her head. Her and Justie's rattles.
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I shot up in bed, hyperventilating.
Oh, thank god, it was a dream. Just a dream. Or so I hope.
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Cassie Jamie
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