Author: Marie a.k.a. Lovesbitch
Email: Lovesbitch84@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13/Rish (might change later)
Summary: AU, Mi/L, Liz POV
Disclaimer: I do not own Rosewell, I have no money so there's no point suing.
Distrubtion: If you want to put this on your site then just send me a email with the link
Feedback: Listening to the voices in your head and send feedback like a good reader
Authors Note: This is my first attempt at writing a Rosewell fanfic and I would adore feedback.
Bad things happen.
And you hurt.
And you have two options afterwards.
You can accept it and work through it.
Sure, you hurt and it's hard, but afterwards you come out a better person.
Or you could shut down.
Turn off your emotions so you don't have to deal with it.
I chose the latter.
But I'm sure you already figured that out.
**
"Liz, what happened to you?" Michael asked, concerned.
"I did something bad," I whispered, pressing my face into Michael's shoulder.
"Liz, you can tell me," Michael whispered, into my hair.
"No, I can't. You'll hate me afterwards," I cried.
"I love you Liz, nothing will change that," Michael said, and I wanted to believe him so badly.
And I had kept this with me for to long.
I thought the only good thing about moving to Roswell would be getting away from it.
But I brought it with me.
"On my 16th birthday, my parents bought me this amazing red sports car," I started, pulling my face from Michael's shoulder.
"Wow, the best gift I ever got from my step-dad was a half drunken bottle of vodka," Michael said, and I could feel the pain that was wrapped around his words.
"I had wanted that car since I was 12 years old . And it wasn't even the car that made me so happy. I mean, I knew the only reason my mom went along with the idea was so she didn't have to drive me around anymore. But I was happy because my parents had remembered I loved it," I said, smiling softly at the memory of the short-lived happiness.
"What's so bad about that?" Michael asked.
"Then when I asked them how they knew I wanted it my so-called mother told me they had asked Tammy," I whispered, trying to hold back the tears for as long as I could.
"Ouch," Michael whispered.
"So the next night, Tammy, Anya and I went to this party at some senior's house and, of course, I drove my brand new car. Sure, my parents were worth shit but I had my car," I said.
"Who was Anya?" Michael asked, and I flinched as her name left his mouth.
"Anya, Tammy and I were best friends. Ever since first grade. She was supposed to open the coffee shop with me and Tammy after we got out of high school," I explained, my eyes burning.
"What happened?" Michael asked.
"I was hurting. I still had emotions then, I had let myself feel and I had been hurt so badly. So I drank. A lot. I was in no shape to drive home," I said, remembering the painful events of that night.
"But you did," Michael added.
"No, you see, Anya was a good friend. She did what she was supposed to and took my keys," I corrected him. Anya cared to much about me and Tammy to let anything like that happen.
"Then what happened?" Michael asked, carefully.
"She drove. Tammy had a few drinks too and she was the only sober one of the us. The ride itself is a blur, I remember we were laughing. We were having fun. Then it happened." I whispered.
"What?" Michael asked.
"I don't want to go on, it hurts to bad," I whispered.
"Liz, whatever this is you need to get it out," Michael assured me. "I won't hate you."
"It happened so fast I didn't even realize what was happening until it was over. I'm still not quite sure about the details but we must have hit an ice patch. I had been sitting shotgun and I was turned around in the seat talking to Tammy when I heard Anya scream. I spun around as the car lurched off the side of the highway and the next thing I knew we ran full speed into a tree," I said, in a voice barely above a whisper, as the horrible scene replayed in my mind.
"Oh my God," Michael whispered, but I could hardly hear his voice over the sound of crushing metal, shattering glass and the screams that still made my blood run cold.
"I must have only been knocked out for a second or two because, according to the witness, my screams started almost as soon they got out of their car," I whispered, reaching up to my throat that had been sore for weeks afterwards.
"Liz," Michael whispered, pulling me even closer to him.
"The first thing I did was turn around to see if Tammy was all right when I heard her moaning. She had hit her head pretty hard and was out but I could see her breathing. And then I began to feel the pain. My head was throbbing but the worst pain came from my side," I whispered, letting my hand slip to the spot which had caused me such pain.
"I had been drinking in the car, one of those glass beer bottles. It had shattered on impact and was lodged in my side,' I said, feeling the pain that was long forgotten.
"But other than that I was fine. Tammy and I had been wearing out seat belts," I said, remembering the inside of the car.
"What about Anya?" Michael asked.
"She never wore her seat belt. The impact, it had thrown her through the windshield. I remember seeing her, laying there, lifelessly. And then I started screaming.," I whispered, remembering her body that had lain so still only yards from that damn car.
"Oh God," Michael whispered, realizing what had happened.
"I was still screaming her name when they pulled me from the car. They told me she died on impact, that she didn't feel any pain but I mean, that's what they're supposed to tell us. It wouldn't do us any good to let us know that they she had been suffering," I whispered, as I finally let the tears fall down my face.
"Liz, I am so sorry," Michael whispered.
"I remember looking at her as they pulled me from the car. It was so horrible, Michael, seeing her like that. Covered in blood. And you know what I kept thinking?" I asked, finally.
"What?" Michael asked, although I wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.
"I kept thinking over and over that someone should get her a blanket, that she was cold. I mean, it was snowing and she didn't have her jacket. I didn't even realize she was dead, Michael. Not until the next morning when the doctors told me. God, she died because of me," I whispered, in pain.
"Liz, this wasn't your fault," Michael said, slipping one hand under my chin and forcing me to look in him in the eye.
"Yes, it was. I mean, if I hadn't drank that night I would have been the one driving the car," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. It had been so cold that night.
"Liz, you don't know if that would have changed anything. You said yourself she never wore a seat belt," Michael reasoned.
"But maybe if I had been driving I would have taken a different way and we would have never hit that patch of ice," I said, letting more tears fall from my eyes.
"Listen to me, you didn't know. What happened was horrible, there is no doubt about that, but you are not to blame for her death," Michael said.
"Michael, my best friend died because I was selfish. I felt sorry for myself because I let my parents hurt me again and I tried to drink my problems away and this happened! I was the reason she was driving that car that night Michael, so I blamed myself for her death," I screamed, and I heard my voice echo through the apartment.
"So you shut down emotionally to deal with her death," Michael said.
"My therapist told my parents it was only a phase, a way for me to deal with grief and I would eventually reattach myself with feelings. But do you want to know what the sick thing is?" I asked.
"What?" Michael asked.
"I hated her," I whispered, letting myself relax slightly in his arms.
"Why?" Michael asked.
"She had lied to me. We had made a promise that we would grow old and gray together, working in our little coffee shop. She lied, she left us," I whispered.
"And you thought I lied to you," Michael said, realizing the motives of my actions earlier that evening.
"Yeah," I whispered.
"Liz, why didn't you tell me?" Michael asked.
"I didn't want you to hate me," I whispered
"I could never hate you," Michael answered, pressing his lips against my lips.
"Don't leave me alone tonight," I begged.
"I won't," Michael assured.
**
Isn't it amazing how first impressions can be so far from the truth.
I bet you thought I was this selfish bitch who had everything.
But that's what you have to realize, nothing comes without a price.
I may have the cloths and the money and the popularity.
But I also had the horrible parents and my best friend die and the whole alien thing to deal with.
So maybe you learned something.
Maybe you didn't.
And maybe this is the end.
But than again, maybe it isn't.
Maybe it's just the start.
The End