Disclaimer: I Do not own Charmed
To Look Again – Always Thinking
Prue lay awake in her hospital bed, the blankets wrapped warmly around her scarred and bruised body. She lay staring out the closed window at the vast night sky, and tried not to make a sound as slowly a single tear fell from her face to the sheets. She looked out around the grounds of Wake Glen's and finally realised what she had been reduced to, she was locked away from her family and friends, held hostage against her will and trying to find a way out of the hospital and a way out of her life every second of the day that passed. She reached into her bedside cabinet and lifted out a small notebook that she had been keeping as a journal, slowly she flicked through the pages and read about her life so far, as she had written it.
"Its so hard, pretending that I don't hurt. Pretending that everything is fine when I know that its not, I know that I shouldn't be feeling like this." She read quietly to herself, she flicked another few pages and came to a date that haunted her, February 19th… her first serious attempt.
"I hate myself today, I hate everything about my body, my soul, my heart, my feelings, I hate it all. I can't stand being here anymore. I can't stand being her! How can I live with myself when I know that I'm pretending! How can I just act like everything is fine! Maybe I should be an actress… but I can't… I'm too stupid and wrong, and dirty… I'm just so dirty. How can anyone ever love me like this, I've seen the way Grams looks at me, ever since she found out a few years ago she's looked at me like I'm some kind of scab. Like I'm just there until I get picked off, why doesn't she love me anymore? No, I know why, how could any one love someone like me, I'm dirty and scarred and broken and I don't deserve to be here! I never have!!!!" Prue stopped for a second and looked towards the ceiling in attempt to stop tears from falling, then continued to read, "As I write this I'm swallowing pills, I don't know what they are.. but I'm taking them one after the other and I don't care, I don't care that I could die I'm embracing it! I'm enjoying swallowing these pills knowing that it could bring an end… I need to write a note… I need to write a note that explains how I feel, I should start writing that. And I can tell everyone how much I love then, and that I'm sorry and that I've made mistakes in the past but this isn't a mistake… I have too…" That was the last journal entry for months, after that attempt Prue didn't share anything with anyone, not even her journal. She flicked past pages of nothing and continued until she reached her most recent entry,
"Piper came to visit today, and once more the conversation was awkward. I don't know how long I can carry on like this, I mean being here is meant to make me feel better its meant to help… but it doesn't. It makes things worse to see how much I'm hurting them, to have them organise their lives around me like I'm some sort of task, an organised event that they have to go to. They don't want to be here, none of them… Piper said so herself, she doesn't visit because she loves me… she visits "Because you're my sister" not because she cares, but because she feels like she has to!" Prue took a few deep breaths in and out and tried to calm herself down, she wiped away any loose tears that had fallen and grabbed the pen that was sitting on her bedside table, as she wrote she spoke aloud quietly,
"I can't keep on doing this to Piper and the rest of my family! I mean how can I have been so fucking selfish! I don't want to hurt them but I cannot stop this urge to die! Why do I constantly feel like this? Why can't I put on a fucking mask in front of my family? Just to stop them hurting why can't I just pretend for a few hours everyday that I'm desperate to drive a blade into my arm and watch as slowly the blood drips out? I need to stop this… or just make them think that I have. The next time Piper comes to visit I have to be happier… I have to try and make jokes and talk like a normal person, for her! I can't keep going on like this in front of Piper… its hurting her too much. I can see it! I know it, I can see it in her eyes and the way she talks to me and I know that I'm hurting her but I can't stop. I just want to cut and I want to die! And I just want to sit awake at night and day and evening and noon and all the time and I want to cry my eyes out and I want them to tell me that everything is going to be alright but I just can't believe it! I just can't! But I will, I will pretend for Piper and Grams and Phoebe… I can't wear a mask and hide my feelings…" And with that Prue placed her notebook back into the small drawer with the pen and shut off her nightlight. Closing her eyes she once again entered a nightmare world of sleep and pain.
Prue awoke the next morning, her face was no longer red and sore from crying but she didn't feel any happier about what had happened last night. It was the first time that she had cried since being admitted because she no longer felt like she was allowed to because it was no longer private, everyone knew what had happened to her. She got up and walked through to the small bathroom in her room with her bag in her hand, she pulled out some clothes and sat them on the ground. Peeling her sweaty pyjama top off she lifted her other top off the pile. As she pulled it on she heard a small clatter on the ground below her, she looked down and saw a small razor blade lying at her feet. She bent over and picked it up, she sat down on the toilet and pulled her sleeve up, she knew this scenario well. She would debate about cutting for about half an hour and then simply to end the debate she would cut. I can't…I can't I have to be strong for Piper and Grams… but I feel like totally shit! How can I see them feeling like this… cutting will bring me a form of release. I need it… I can't be without it… but I have to be strong… but I'm so weak, I can't survive without it, but it'll end up killing me… I can't do this anymore, its too hard. I have to end this debate… how can I continue with this? How can I go on like this? I can't I have to fight, but I'm so weak, I'm not strong, I'm weak, I hide whenever things go wrong… but I need to be strong… I can fight this… but it's just so hard… the endless debate continued in Prue's head. Tears slowly streamed down her face, as she brought the blade down across her wrist and watched as the blood fell.
"I'm sorry Piper, Grams… everyone," she sobbed as she watched the blood drip to the ground, "I failed,"
A/N: Again this chapter is rather short… I could have written more but writing for Prue's point of view is harder because I don't know what's going on in her head and its rather emotional for me to try and imagine what someone would feel. Especially when I'm trying to see if my sister would feel this.