Lost In Silence
by Bethany
Chapter Two
All the days seemed to blend into one another, she thought as she entered the pitch-black penthouse. Her body felt limp as she threw her briefcase onto the chair and fell onto the couch. Glancing out a nearby window, she watched as the rain shimmered against the street lamp light. She couldn't keep up with this schedule anymore. Sure, it was fine when she was twenty-four, freshly out of school and eager to embrace life -- unfortunately those digits were now reversed and life had dealt her some pretty unpleasant cards.
Wandering into her bedroom, she immediately changed out of the clothes she bore since 6:00am, into her silk pajamas. It was all she could do to stand up, yet she couldn't go to bed. Insomnia haunted her these days; well, since the day Frederick left for Seattle. Oh, she knew it was only for two weeks, but everything changed when he wasn't around. Her life felt empty without her son nearby -- he was the only thing that kept her going. She had suffered too many loses in her life, and it was an all too familiar feeling -- she only hoped and prayed it was one she'd never have to experience again, especially with her son. That's why she liked him close by.
Frederick. She was sure he was having one hell of a time with his father while she sat there and sulked, remembering the days where he wouldn't have to go across the country to bond with the man he called "Dad". How long ago that was; but, they were all so happy. If only things had gone differently. Why hadn't they gone differently? It was all her fault, she knew, that was no mystery. All her lies and deceit... they were the destruction of the life she worked so hard for, the loss of the man she loved. The more she kept from him, the bigger the wedge that was forced between them. If she could have done it all over, she would have told him the truth from the very beginning. What is the point of a lasting relationship anyhow, if you couldn't share your torment, keeping it boggled down inside until it turned you into a bitter, cold, shrewd woman, which she knew was her destiny since that tragic day.
1983.
Streamers decked the large hall, music filling the ears of anyone who entered. Lilith slowly walked in, staring at the room full of people. It was nearly midnight already, but she was happy she made it there at all. She thought her mother would never leave, inspecting her new apartment from top to bottom. After giving her daughter her famous guilt-trip due to her lack of interest of spending the holiday with her dear old mother, Betty finally left the premises, giving Lilith the go ahead to attend the faculty party.
It frightened her to some degree, being there among her new coworkers. It was completely surreal seeing the entire Psychology department incoherently dancing the night away. She didn't know them well, but from what she could assess they were all stuffed shirts. The irony of the situation was uncanny.
Out of nowhere, a hand fell upon her shoulder. "Dr. Sternin, how nice of you to join us this evening." Lilith turned to face her future husband.
"Why, Dr. Crane... I do believe you're drunk."
Frasier let out a chuckle. "A little tipsy, perhaps, but I assure you, not drunk." Lilith smiled. She had been smitten with him since the day he came to her office and introduced himself. "Would you care for a scotch, Dr. Sternin?"
"Please." She gladly accepted the drink.
As a voice-over started counting down from ten, Frasier slyly slid his arm around Lilith's waist, alarming her a bit, but sending shivers down her spine at the same time. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..." Before Lilith realized, Frasier's lips were pressed against hers. By the time her glass met the floor, she was lost in his embrace. "Happy New Year." He whispered against her ear. Those were the last words she could recall, for after that, the evening blurred into the morning.
Lilith yawned, stretching her arms out above her head, as she blinked her eyes, rolling over onto... Frasier?! She sat up, horrified. Where was she? She quickly looked at the clock, clutching the sheet up against her -- 8:47am. Looking back down at Frasier, she cringed thinking about the damage this would do to her career. Some professional... she had to get out of there before he woke. That's what she would do. He'd never have to know, right? If she didn't recall the events of last night, there was no way he could. After all, he was smashed. That was it. She could cover her tracks, and her secret would be safe. Frasier was transferring out to the Berkshires next week anyhow. She could avoid him until then. She could and she would. What were the odds of their paths ever crossing again? Very low, she was sure.
After getting dressed, she exited his apartment as fast as her legs would take her. Little did she know, that night would prove to be the beginning of her inevitable downfall.
Biting her lip, tears stung her eyes as she reflected on her life. Sadly, she opened her closet door, reaching back to the far right. Pulling out a large, pink portfolio, trimmed with off-white lace, she walked back over to the bed. She curled up under the comforter, clutching onto the book as if it were gold.
Carefully, she opened it up to find a picture of the small child who tormented her thoughts. Under the picture, in large letters, was printed: Magdalen Elizabeth Crane. The little girl's large blue eyes stared up at her mother, tearing Lilith's heart into a million shreds. Her fingers traced the small frame of the child, as tears slid down her cheeks. Her voice cracked, as she flipped the pages. "My precious little girl..." It killed her to look at the photos, yet she couldn't help herself. Wiping the drops of tears from her eyes, she closed the portfolio and held it closely to her chest. "Goodnight, my sweet little princess."
The anguish which raced through her veins was unbearable. Reaching for the receiver, she dialed an oddly familiar number. Once. Twice. Three times the phone rang until someone picked up.
"Hello?" The tired voice echoed from the other end.
"Frasier..." Her voice was shaking, as she spoke softly. "It's me... we need to talk."
by Bethany
Chapter Two
All the days seemed to blend into one another, she thought as she entered the pitch-black penthouse. Her body felt limp as she threw her briefcase onto the chair and fell onto the couch. Glancing out a nearby window, she watched as the rain shimmered against the street lamp light. She couldn't keep up with this schedule anymore. Sure, it was fine when she was twenty-four, freshly out of school and eager to embrace life -- unfortunately those digits were now reversed and life had dealt her some pretty unpleasant cards.
Wandering into her bedroom, she immediately changed out of the clothes she bore since 6:00am, into her silk pajamas. It was all she could do to stand up, yet she couldn't go to bed. Insomnia haunted her these days; well, since the day Frederick left for Seattle. Oh, she knew it was only for two weeks, but everything changed when he wasn't around. Her life felt empty without her son nearby -- he was the only thing that kept her going. She had suffered too many loses in her life, and it was an all too familiar feeling -- she only hoped and prayed it was one she'd never have to experience again, especially with her son. That's why she liked him close by.
Frederick. She was sure he was having one hell of a time with his father while she sat there and sulked, remembering the days where he wouldn't have to go across the country to bond with the man he called "Dad". How long ago that was; but, they were all so happy. If only things had gone differently. Why hadn't they gone differently? It was all her fault, she knew, that was no mystery. All her lies and deceit... they were the destruction of the life she worked so hard for, the loss of the man she loved. The more she kept from him, the bigger the wedge that was forced between them. If she could have done it all over, she would have told him the truth from the very beginning. What is the point of a lasting relationship anyhow, if you couldn't share your torment, keeping it boggled down inside until it turned you into a bitter, cold, shrewd woman, which she knew was her destiny since that tragic day.
1983.
Streamers decked the large hall, music filling the ears of anyone who entered. Lilith slowly walked in, staring at the room full of people. It was nearly midnight already, but she was happy she made it there at all. She thought her mother would never leave, inspecting her new apartment from top to bottom. After giving her daughter her famous guilt-trip due to her lack of interest of spending the holiday with her dear old mother, Betty finally left the premises, giving Lilith the go ahead to attend the faculty party.
It frightened her to some degree, being there among her new coworkers. It was completely surreal seeing the entire Psychology department incoherently dancing the night away. She didn't know them well, but from what she could assess they were all stuffed shirts. The irony of the situation was uncanny.
Out of nowhere, a hand fell upon her shoulder. "Dr. Sternin, how nice of you to join us this evening." Lilith turned to face her future husband.
"Why, Dr. Crane... I do believe you're drunk."
Frasier let out a chuckle. "A little tipsy, perhaps, but I assure you, not drunk." Lilith smiled. She had been smitten with him since the day he came to her office and introduced himself. "Would you care for a scotch, Dr. Sternin?"
"Please." She gladly accepted the drink.
As a voice-over started counting down from ten, Frasier slyly slid his arm around Lilith's waist, alarming her a bit, but sending shivers down her spine at the same time. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..." Before Lilith realized, Frasier's lips were pressed against hers. By the time her glass met the floor, she was lost in his embrace. "Happy New Year." He whispered against her ear. Those were the last words she could recall, for after that, the evening blurred into the morning.
Lilith yawned, stretching her arms out above her head, as she blinked her eyes, rolling over onto... Frasier?! She sat up, horrified. Where was she? She quickly looked at the clock, clutching the sheet up against her -- 8:47am. Looking back down at Frasier, she cringed thinking about the damage this would do to her career. Some professional... she had to get out of there before he woke. That's what she would do. He'd never have to know, right? If she didn't recall the events of last night, there was no way he could. After all, he was smashed. That was it. She could cover her tracks, and her secret would be safe. Frasier was transferring out to the Berkshires next week anyhow. She could avoid him until then. She could and she would. What were the odds of their paths ever crossing again? Very low, she was sure.
After getting dressed, she exited his apartment as fast as her legs would take her. Little did she know, that night would prove to be the beginning of her inevitable downfall.
Biting her lip, tears stung her eyes as she reflected on her life. Sadly, she opened her closet door, reaching back to the far right. Pulling out a large, pink portfolio, trimmed with off-white lace, she walked back over to the bed. She curled up under the comforter, clutching onto the book as if it were gold.
Carefully, she opened it up to find a picture of the small child who tormented her thoughts. Under the picture, in large letters, was printed: Magdalen Elizabeth Crane. The little girl's large blue eyes stared up at her mother, tearing Lilith's heart into a million shreds. Her fingers traced the small frame of the child, as tears slid down her cheeks. Her voice cracked, as she flipped the pages. "My precious little girl..." It killed her to look at the photos, yet she couldn't help herself. Wiping the drops of tears from her eyes, she closed the portfolio and held it closely to her chest. "Goodnight, my sweet little princess."
The anguish which raced through her veins was unbearable. Reaching for the receiver, she dialed an oddly familiar number. Once. Twice. Three times the phone rang until someone picked up.
"Hello?" The tired voice echoed from the other end.
"Frasier..." Her voice was shaking, as she spoke softly. "It's me... we need to talk."