I wrote this a couple of months ago when the whole Skye/Jax/Brenda triangle was going on. Skye's thoughts and feelings.
Dark Side of the Moon
She stumbled into the dusky lake house, half drunk and half sober. The shadows swarmed around her, but she paid them no mind. The darkness fit her mood, she decided. Always depressing, it engulfed her in its sweet embrace. And she welcomed it gratefully. Hidden in its shadow, she didn't have to face the truth head on. She could wallow in self-pity all she wanted and it wouldn't say a word.
With no light, save for the moon shimmering through the window, she dropped clumsily onto the couch. Her life was pathetic.
Her hand tightened around the bottle she held. The vodka felt good going down. Burned her senses almost into complete emptiness. Just the way she liked it.
Her bloodshot eyes became heavy, and she closed them, hoping that the pain and memories would go away. But they didn't. The memories mocked her. Mocked her with promises of forever. Of together and always. Another useless human being down the drain, they said. And she decided, in a blundering stupor, that maybe they were right. That was why she had turned to the bottle in the first place. She'd thought herself useless. Unlovable.
Until him. Until he had convinced her of his love. Until their Happily Ever After turned into Unhappily Ever After. Not that she could really blame him. What man in their right man would choose her over a "perfect" past love. Especially when that love was a no good two-timing tramp. Nope. No blame there at all.
It always came back to him. Even in a drunken daze. It always came back to him. Why? He had helped ruin her life. No matter how many times she went over it, she always came back around to what he had done. He had ripped her heart out, shredded her life to pieces. And everyone around him had applauded his actions. No sympathy for her. Only unbridled satisfaction that he had chosen someone else; trampling over her own soul to claim another.
Not that she was blameless. No, what she had done was much worse. So much worse. She had trusted. Trusted him with her heart and body. And she had been turned away. Deemed not worthy enough to be with him for a lifetime. And in that moment, that thought, the cloud of haze disappeared from her mind. Anger filled her soul and she was up from the couch before she knew it. The bottle crashed against the wall, sending vodka everywhere.
Shaking her head, she cleared away the haziness before heading to the bathroom. A shower would do her good. Help her see straight.
She would pull out of it. Always did. And she would move on to her next conquest. That's what they were anyway. Conquests. And next time she would come out on top. There was always that next time. To rectify her mistakes. Improve her game. She would win. And everyone would bow.
THE END
