Getting off yet another plane, Ryan sighed. There had been too many hours
spent in the sky in the past twenty four hours, too many hours in a
hospital, too many people looking depressed, too many thoughts that took
him right back to his thirteen year old self. He broke his arm all those
years ago and the drugs they had him on and the "concerned" friends in the
waiting room and Theresa looking at him like he was going to die. That's
what the past twenty four hours felt like. It was lying on a bed, seeing
through a foggy glass of drugs and not being able to reach out and grab
what he really wanted.
It was dark now. Newport sky was filled with bitter blackness and the air smelled crisp and solid. He knew that Sandy and Kirsten were talking in the front of the car, that in her hushed voice, Kirsten told her husband of the crazy everything. Ryan's ears perked each time his name rolled of her tongue, an awakened sense. But Ryan refused to pay attention to Theresa's name anymore.
There had been too much.
Seth, who chose to drive with Summer, was probably already asleep. The speed at which Summer chose to drive brought you in and out of Newport in less time than it took her to get ready. Ryan thought of those two, how cute they had been together both in the hospital and on the plane ride home. Ryan Atwood wasn't the guy who said cute, but he agreed with a flight attendant who had commented on the couple. He was happy they were happy. Well, he was happy for Seth. Summer was still a bit of a mystery to him, and he would eventually figure her out, but he was too tired at the moment.
Ryan just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and embrace the dark emptiness. But though his eyelids shielded him from sight or light, there were pictures playing over in his mind. He forced visions of Theresa away, they were exhausted halfway back to Newport. He refused to think of Marissa, staring blankly at a wall almost soulless. He couldn't think of Seth and Summer, there was a revolting tinge of jealousy in his stomach as they saw that happy couple. So he decided not to think at all.
And soon enough, they were home. Body moving mechanically, he trudged into the pool house and took of his shoes. He undressed quickly, racing towards slumber. Jacket hit the floor, his shirt, his jeans, his socks. In nothing but boxers, he collapsed on top of his fresh sheets and slept. He ignored the open window, the chilling breeze, the sweat sticking the sheets to his body. He ignored all of it and slept. There, he thought he would chase peace. Now he was chasing her. Again.
XXX
She was curled into the fetus position. Balled up so tight that no one even noticed her convulse as she sobbed. She was sober now. No drugs in her system- the kind she loved and the kind the doctor's gave her. It was the first time in the past week or so that she was completely and entirely sober.
And it felt like crap. There had been so many years of happy memories, but now all she could see were the recent bad events. Her father getting into a fist fight at cotillion. Luke groping at another girl. Her mother attempting to send her to an institution (second time's a charm). Caleb Nichol dating her mother. Ryan fighting with Oliver. Ryan with Theresa. Luke with Julie. Marissa Cooper had lived her whole life in an attempt to be happy, but now, it was all completely worthless.
It was as if a year or so ago, a paper cut, thin and meaningless, had afflicted her heart. And since that moment thin trails of her ability to love and believe dripped away, leaving her raw and vulnerable. She couldn't take it anymore. That's why she was here. That's why she was here. That's why she was sorry.
She was sorry for being alive. For having continued living after everything that happened. Life, who needed it? No one knew what it was like to be her. Nobody in this whole world would ever truly understand the pain associated with her suffering. There were people who were poor. There were people who were rich. There were people who loved. There were people whose love was unrequited. But there weren't any people like her.
She had had everything. Everything people dreamed of, family, wealth, a home, a sister who adored her, popularity, friends, a boyfriend. And she lost it. All of it. People lose things everyday, but not like that. Nothing close to all of that. Nothing that would give anyone else even the slightest glimpse into her pain.
Large wet tears fell from her eyes, but they were open, embracing her surroundings. This was Evanston. This was a rehabilitation center. This was where they would tell her to get better. This was where she belonged.
XXX
"Hey mamacita, I made you a special breakfast for your first morning back in Casa Eva."
Theresa blinked a few times, shaking off her dream of Chino's summer heat and Ryan's heated hands. She stared blankly at Eva for a few moments and inhaled the thick scent of chocolate and bacon.
"Okay, sleepy head, you can eat when you want to but I've got to work." Noticing the concerned look on Theresa's face, she added, "I've got new locks and you are under strict instruction not to open the door for anyone. Miss Gillian next door is looking out for you too."
Theresa breathed a sigh of relief. Kicking the thin sheet of her legs, she swung them over the side of the bed and pulled herself up. She was vertical for almost a minute before her knee gave way and she was on the bed again. Eva unfolded the wheelchair in front of her and aided the injured girl into it. Wheeling herself to the kitchen, she saw a short stack of chocolate- chip pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon all on the table. "Thanks, Ev." She smiled. "Go to work." Taking her cousin's advice, Eva left the apartment carefully locking all the locks from the outside. Sitting in her wheelchair, staring at a mountain of food, Theresa smiled to herself.
Could things be working out?
It was dark now. Newport sky was filled with bitter blackness and the air smelled crisp and solid. He knew that Sandy and Kirsten were talking in the front of the car, that in her hushed voice, Kirsten told her husband of the crazy everything. Ryan's ears perked each time his name rolled of her tongue, an awakened sense. But Ryan refused to pay attention to Theresa's name anymore.
There had been too much.
Seth, who chose to drive with Summer, was probably already asleep. The speed at which Summer chose to drive brought you in and out of Newport in less time than it took her to get ready. Ryan thought of those two, how cute they had been together both in the hospital and on the plane ride home. Ryan Atwood wasn't the guy who said cute, but he agreed with a flight attendant who had commented on the couple. He was happy they were happy. Well, he was happy for Seth. Summer was still a bit of a mystery to him, and he would eventually figure her out, but he was too tired at the moment.
Ryan just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and embrace the dark emptiness. But though his eyelids shielded him from sight or light, there were pictures playing over in his mind. He forced visions of Theresa away, they were exhausted halfway back to Newport. He refused to think of Marissa, staring blankly at a wall almost soulless. He couldn't think of Seth and Summer, there was a revolting tinge of jealousy in his stomach as they saw that happy couple. So he decided not to think at all.
And soon enough, they were home. Body moving mechanically, he trudged into the pool house and took of his shoes. He undressed quickly, racing towards slumber. Jacket hit the floor, his shirt, his jeans, his socks. In nothing but boxers, he collapsed on top of his fresh sheets and slept. He ignored the open window, the chilling breeze, the sweat sticking the sheets to his body. He ignored all of it and slept. There, he thought he would chase peace. Now he was chasing her. Again.
XXX
She was curled into the fetus position. Balled up so tight that no one even noticed her convulse as she sobbed. She was sober now. No drugs in her system- the kind she loved and the kind the doctor's gave her. It was the first time in the past week or so that she was completely and entirely sober.
And it felt like crap. There had been so many years of happy memories, but now all she could see were the recent bad events. Her father getting into a fist fight at cotillion. Luke groping at another girl. Her mother attempting to send her to an institution (second time's a charm). Caleb Nichol dating her mother. Ryan fighting with Oliver. Ryan with Theresa. Luke with Julie. Marissa Cooper had lived her whole life in an attempt to be happy, but now, it was all completely worthless.
It was as if a year or so ago, a paper cut, thin and meaningless, had afflicted her heart. And since that moment thin trails of her ability to love and believe dripped away, leaving her raw and vulnerable. She couldn't take it anymore. That's why she was here. That's why she was here. That's why she was sorry.
She was sorry for being alive. For having continued living after everything that happened. Life, who needed it? No one knew what it was like to be her. Nobody in this whole world would ever truly understand the pain associated with her suffering. There were people who were poor. There were people who were rich. There were people who loved. There were people whose love was unrequited. But there weren't any people like her.
She had had everything. Everything people dreamed of, family, wealth, a home, a sister who adored her, popularity, friends, a boyfriend. And she lost it. All of it. People lose things everyday, but not like that. Nothing close to all of that. Nothing that would give anyone else even the slightest glimpse into her pain.
Large wet tears fell from her eyes, but they were open, embracing her surroundings. This was Evanston. This was a rehabilitation center. This was where they would tell her to get better. This was where she belonged.
XXX
"Hey mamacita, I made you a special breakfast for your first morning back in Casa Eva."
Theresa blinked a few times, shaking off her dream of Chino's summer heat and Ryan's heated hands. She stared blankly at Eva for a few moments and inhaled the thick scent of chocolate and bacon.
"Okay, sleepy head, you can eat when you want to but I've got to work." Noticing the concerned look on Theresa's face, she added, "I've got new locks and you are under strict instruction not to open the door for anyone. Miss Gillian next door is looking out for you too."
Theresa breathed a sigh of relief. Kicking the thin sheet of her legs, she swung them over the side of the bed and pulled herself up. She was vertical for almost a minute before her knee gave way and she was on the bed again. Eva unfolded the wheelchair in front of her and aided the injured girl into it. Wheeling herself to the kitchen, she saw a short stack of chocolate- chip pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon all on the table. "Thanks, Ev." She smiled. "Go to work." Taking her cousin's advice, Eva left the apartment carefully locking all the locks from the outside. Sitting in her wheelchair, staring at a mountain of food, Theresa smiled to herself.
Could things be working out?