Disclaimer: The 7th Heaven characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them to tell a story. Please don't sue. All non 7th Heaven characters belong to me.
Don't forget the feedback/review!
Witness
By Dark Inzanity (c) 2002
Chapter 4
Minutes seemed like hours, like the clock wasn't moving at all. I lay on my bed, the bed of my childhood, once the bottom half of the bunk beds Davey and I used when we were younger. I could picture Davey so clearly leaning over the side of his bed, his eyes shining like the flashlight he pointed in my face. "Are you asleep?" He'd whisper, and I'd always answer "Yes." We would both laugh, then shush each other because we knew we would be in trouble if Mom heard us.
I tried to keep my mind focused on memories like that, crazy things Davey and I used to do before we started to drift apart. Of course we didn't really start drifting apart until I announced my big plans to go to school in Texas instead of Crawford College where all my brothers and sisters had gone, except Simon who skipped out of college in favor of LA. But even he was close enough to drive home for a day if he really wanted to, of if Mom really wanted him to.
Once I thought about going to school in Texas, I saw Quinn's face, then Rick, and inevitably the woman we had terrorized. Every thought I tried to follow seemed to lead right back there, to that house, that night, that woman. I saw the fear in her eyes, the pleading I could not answer because of my own fear.
I managed to distract myself briefly with thoughts of death and dying-taking my own life to end the misery inside me. I thought about swallowing a bunch of pills out of Mom's medicine stock, but that seemed too girly, and too risky. Too much margin o error, if someone found me, and it would be Mom, she might find me in time to have my stomach pumped or something and I really couldn't stand to think of that. I imagined the scene, sitting in the bathtub, cutting both wrists with a kitchen knife, letting my pain flow like the blood. I'd heard the water would make the blood flow faster, brining a quicker death, but there would still be time to be found and 'rescued'.
A gun would be the best, most accurate option, if I could get my hands on one. The only person I knew who had a gun was my brother-in-law Kevin. Kevin the cop. He had a nice little gun collection at the house. And I knew where he kept the bullets. The trick would be getting over there and getting to the bullets, and getting the right gun...
I closed my eyes and projected the feel of the gun in my hand. I'd hold it up to my temple and-BANG-that would be the end of me. All she wrote. The big sleep. But...Could I do it? Even in my mind I cringed and felt a tingly sensation creep up my spine. Could I pull the trigger knowing it would be the last thing I ever did?
Could the woman in Texas do it? Would she? She had more reason than me. She must feel as empty and dead inside as I did. Maybe worse, but maybe not. She had been the victim, but they had raped me as effectively as they had raped her. Her body, my mind. They had made me do things, I would never do on my own, things I would never think I would do at all. And if I could do those horrible things, why couldn't I kill myself?
It would be easy. Load the gun, aim, and shoot. Nothing to it. No more Quinn, no more Rick, no more pain and disappointment reflected in my mother's eyes. No more nothing.
I couldn't think about Mom or Davey or what my sudden death might do to them. Mom would blame herself and she might never get over it. I wondered if they would put her in the room with Dad at the hospital if she turned into a slobbering idiot like him.
*.~.*
Where were the cops? If they didn't get here soon...
Pounding on the door, panic in my throat, throbbing like a twin heartbeat. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.
"Samuel!"
How did she know my name?
I sat up, breathing hard, my thoughts jumbled, my eyes unfocused. Where was I? My bedroom. Asleep. Dreaming. Mom on the other side of the door, screaming at me.
"I'm...I'll be right there," I called back.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I wasn't sure they would hold up when I stood. They did, and I made my way to the door, opened it.
She did not look happy. "Dinner is ready."
"Okay."
She walked away. I followed.
I didn't see him until I stepped into the kitchen, and my heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight. Davey! I felt an overwhelming urge to hug him, to hold on to him and never let go. The look on his face told me not to try it. 'Don't even speak to me, you disgusting piece of pond scum,' he seemed to say with one sweeping glance. 'You're not my brother. I don't even know you'
I sat down at the table, across from him. He had looked up when I came into the kitchen, but kept his head down now, eyes on the plate in front of him. I mirrored him without meaning to, without knowing what else to do. I didn't dare speak to him, couldn't stomach the thought of him ignoring or verbally rejecting me.
We ate in silence.
"I'll leave you boys to do the dishes," Mom said as she stood up. And then she was gone.
David stood, carried his plate to the sink. He stood there for a long moment, his back to me. It looked like he braced his arms on the counter, as if he needed it to hold him up. I thought of the gun, Kevin's gun. I was holding it to my temple in my mind. I closed my eyes. -BANG-
After a minute I heard Davey take a deep breath. "What the hell happened to you out there?"
I looked at him. Tears filled my eyes. I didn't want to cry, didn't want to be a sissy in front of Davey. "I don't know," I whispered. And the tears fell.
David didn't move. He just stood there staring at me. And then he walked away, out the back door.
*.~.*
I'm going to stop there because I have to go to bed, and I hope this leaves the reader wanting more. Please read and review.
Don't forget the feedback/review!
Witness
By Dark Inzanity (c) 2002
Chapter 4
Minutes seemed like hours, like the clock wasn't moving at all. I lay on my bed, the bed of my childhood, once the bottom half of the bunk beds Davey and I used when we were younger. I could picture Davey so clearly leaning over the side of his bed, his eyes shining like the flashlight he pointed in my face. "Are you asleep?" He'd whisper, and I'd always answer "Yes." We would both laugh, then shush each other because we knew we would be in trouble if Mom heard us.
I tried to keep my mind focused on memories like that, crazy things Davey and I used to do before we started to drift apart. Of course we didn't really start drifting apart until I announced my big plans to go to school in Texas instead of Crawford College where all my brothers and sisters had gone, except Simon who skipped out of college in favor of LA. But even he was close enough to drive home for a day if he really wanted to, of if Mom really wanted him to.
Once I thought about going to school in Texas, I saw Quinn's face, then Rick, and inevitably the woman we had terrorized. Every thought I tried to follow seemed to lead right back there, to that house, that night, that woman. I saw the fear in her eyes, the pleading I could not answer because of my own fear.
I managed to distract myself briefly with thoughts of death and dying-taking my own life to end the misery inside me. I thought about swallowing a bunch of pills out of Mom's medicine stock, but that seemed too girly, and too risky. Too much margin o error, if someone found me, and it would be Mom, she might find me in time to have my stomach pumped or something and I really couldn't stand to think of that. I imagined the scene, sitting in the bathtub, cutting both wrists with a kitchen knife, letting my pain flow like the blood. I'd heard the water would make the blood flow faster, brining a quicker death, but there would still be time to be found and 'rescued'.
A gun would be the best, most accurate option, if I could get my hands on one. The only person I knew who had a gun was my brother-in-law Kevin. Kevin the cop. He had a nice little gun collection at the house. And I knew where he kept the bullets. The trick would be getting over there and getting to the bullets, and getting the right gun...
I closed my eyes and projected the feel of the gun in my hand. I'd hold it up to my temple and-BANG-that would be the end of me. All she wrote. The big sleep. But...Could I do it? Even in my mind I cringed and felt a tingly sensation creep up my spine. Could I pull the trigger knowing it would be the last thing I ever did?
Could the woman in Texas do it? Would she? She had more reason than me. She must feel as empty and dead inside as I did. Maybe worse, but maybe not. She had been the victim, but they had raped me as effectively as they had raped her. Her body, my mind. They had made me do things, I would never do on my own, things I would never think I would do at all. And if I could do those horrible things, why couldn't I kill myself?
It would be easy. Load the gun, aim, and shoot. Nothing to it. No more Quinn, no more Rick, no more pain and disappointment reflected in my mother's eyes. No more nothing.
I couldn't think about Mom or Davey or what my sudden death might do to them. Mom would blame herself and she might never get over it. I wondered if they would put her in the room with Dad at the hospital if she turned into a slobbering idiot like him.
*.~.*
Where were the cops? If they didn't get here soon...
Pounding on the door, panic in my throat, throbbing like a twin heartbeat. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.
"Samuel!"
How did she know my name?
I sat up, breathing hard, my thoughts jumbled, my eyes unfocused. Where was I? My bedroom. Asleep. Dreaming. Mom on the other side of the door, screaming at me.
"I'm...I'll be right there," I called back.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I wasn't sure they would hold up when I stood. They did, and I made my way to the door, opened it.
She did not look happy. "Dinner is ready."
"Okay."
She walked away. I followed.
I didn't see him until I stepped into the kitchen, and my heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight. Davey! I felt an overwhelming urge to hug him, to hold on to him and never let go. The look on his face told me not to try it. 'Don't even speak to me, you disgusting piece of pond scum,' he seemed to say with one sweeping glance. 'You're not my brother. I don't even know you'
I sat down at the table, across from him. He had looked up when I came into the kitchen, but kept his head down now, eyes on the plate in front of him. I mirrored him without meaning to, without knowing what else to do. I didn't dare speak to him, couldn't stomach the thought of him ignoring or verbally rejecting me.
We ate in silence.
"I'll leave you boys to do the dishes," Mom said as she stood up. And then she was gone.
David stood, carried his plate to the sink. He stood there for a long moment, his back to me. It looked like he braced his arms on the counter, as if he needed it to hold him up. I thought of the gun, Kevin's gun. I was holding it to my temple in my mind. I closed my eyes. -BANG-
After a minute I heard Davey take a deep breath. "What the hell happened to you out there?"
I looked at him. Tears filled my eyes. I didn't want to cry, didn't want to be a sissy in front of Davey. "I don't know," I whispered. And the tears fell.
David didn't move. He just stood there staring at me. And then he walked away, out the back door.
*.~.*
I'm going to stop there because I have to go to bed, and I hope this leaves the reader wanting more. Please read and review.