Thanks for the reviews! Oh, I love you! Each and every one of you and you know, reviews fed this actually. Anyway, I'm sorry if this is too short but I work that way and uh, enjoy this chapter. Thanks again for reading.
It was... Bubba? Of all the people in the world to show up on her doorstep, Bubba never even entered her mind.
"What are..."
"Shut up, right now. I'm going to talk right now and you're going to listen, I don't care if you don't care I just need you to know that you've completely destroyed both of your friends in a matter of months." He said, his voice wavered, filled with so much anger that he was afraid he couldn't contain.
"And you are out here in Mayberry... alive."
He looked her up and down, shaking his head lightly, disgusted.
"You really don't know what they went through. You don't know how many times I've heard Lita crying, you don't know how many times I've seen her stare at your picture and fuck, you're out here, alive! Alive! I've heard that so many times from Jeff."
She had never seen anyone so angry, his body seemed on fire, his voice was weary but strong and it didn't seem likely that he would stop talking, so she watched and listened and winced at the mention of Lita. If they only knew why. They'd understand, they'd know.
"You're not even listening, you don't care how much they care. Hey, you wanna see how much they care? Here."
He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at her, she caught it before it hit the ground. She unfolded it slowly and her eyes widened at the face staring back at her. It was her own.
"Yeah, two months of printing flyers. They set up a phone bank, that sort of crap that happens in telethons."
She traced the word 'Missing Person' with her finger, it was surreal. They had all the appropriate info, three pictures, two personal photos and a publicity photo that they had just shot a month before she left. Smiling, happy. Something that she longed for now.
She read the address at the bottom, noting the New York address and felt something sink deep inside as she read... Trish Stratus Missing Person's Center.
"You just... I can't help but having so many emotions when I... I don't know you, Trish. I-"
She snapped her head up as she heard her name, no, that wasn't her name. She was Patricia, she had a new life, she was Patricia Stevenson. Patricia. God damn it, why were they trying so hard?
"Get out." She whispered, interrupting him. She crushed the piece of paper in her hand and threw it at him. "Get out!"
"No!" He shouted back, deflecting the ball. "I am not leaving, I'm not Jeff, I'm not Lita. I'm not fragile like they are. I am not leaving until you tell me why you left."
"I don't have to tell you a damn thing." She growled.
"You don't but just know that I won't leave until you do." He responded, calmly.
"I'll call the police." She screamed, frustrated. He wasn't budging, he wasn't going to flee like them.
"Go ahead, turn yourself in. We made sure to have a flyer posted in every police station in every county, every state, every province in Canada and the United States." He leaned against her couch, folding his arms over his chest.
She wasn't going to get off easily, he knew that she was probably fine here and that she had a merry little life here but no, life wasn't easy. You don't just run off, leaving your life behind, your friends, your family without getting some sort of a hassle. She deserves this, he knew she did.
"I'm... you just don't know, Bubba. You... Please, just go."
He shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you put your friends and family through such hell."
"God damn it! You're not my friend, okay. You shouldn't care so much, why the hell do you care!? Huh? Go away. Can't you guys see I'm alive and kicking? I'm not going to rip my wrists open again, don't worry about that. It's not Lita's fault, it's not Jeffy's fault. They don't have to worry."
He sighed, shaking his head once again. "I think that they're a bit past lecturing you, I think they just want their friend back."
"I'm not their friend anymore!" She screamed.
"And I want to know why." He stated firmly.
She sighed. "Bubba, I'm going to be nice, please, leave my home. I'm begging you."
"No."
"Fuck! Fine, I'm going into my kitchen and if you're not gone within five minutes, I'm going to leave again and this time, no one will find me, I'll make sure of it."
Their eyes locked and he knew she wasn't kidding but it also conveyed something else, something that she wouldn't admit to, fear. Something was up and he knew that she was building this wall for some reason.
She stood there, staring for a moment. He couldn't stay, he had a life to tend to. Dudley things to do. She quickly walked into her kitchen and leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath.
She ignored the tears that fell from her eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the she heard footsteps walking out of her room and the unmistakable squeak that meant someone was walking out of her house.
Trish closed her eyes and let out another breath, this was taking a toll on her, she wanted to tell them, she wanted to run off to find Lita and confide in her, cry and eat ice cream while watching Days of Our Lives or Young and the Restless comparing her life to theirs.
She sniffled and wiped off the counter, trying to find something to do to take the day off her mind. As she reached for the dirty tea cup on the table, a loud thump came from in the direction of the living room, she jumped and dropped the cup, sending it to the floor and breaking into tiny bits.
"What the..."
She maneuvered past the broken glass and stopped in the doorway of her kitchen as she spotted Bubba Ray, in her living room.
With two bags.
"What are those?"
"My stuff."
"And why the hell is it in my living room?"
"Don't worry, I'll move it." He smirked as she seemed to grow agitated again.
"WHY IS IT IN MY LIVING ROOM!?" She screamed, walking into the room, standing right in front of him.
"Like I said, I'm not leaving until you tell me why you left."
No, no, no. This wasn't good, it can't be happening. She absently ran her fingers through her hair and focused on the bags. Bubba Ray couldn't stay here but if she told him, he'd run off, tell Lita, tell Jeff, then the world would know.
"You can't..." She cut herself off as a wave of nausea hit her, she felt dizzy, her hand felt as if someone was banging it against a wall.
"I can't what?"
"You... not supposed..." She clutched her chest as she felt the bile rising in her throat, she groaned and quickly ran up the stairs. She ran as fast as she could to her bedroom, sending a table to the floor as she knocked into it.
She retched but nothing came, she had already done this three times today and she knew that there would be nothing coming. After the first few weeks, it hadn't been so bad, a few times here and there but now this stupid morning sickness was coming on during the day. How could morning sickness come on during the day?
She sat back on her heels and grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiping her mouth.
"You're too much for me."
She looked down at her stomach, this was her life. Her baby. She really wanted to tell them, talk about how she was so afraid of the idea of her as a mom but her family, they'd know she was a whore.
A baby out of wedlock within a catholic family.
A child conceived under false hopes.
They'd be ashamed, everyone would talk about her again, everyone would watch and laugh some more and she couldn't handle that. She didn't want to end up in a hospital again.
With blood on her hands and not just her own this time.
She leaned against the toilet, trying to regain some footing. No, Bubba Ray couldn't stay, he couldn't find out. This was her only chance to have a family, there could be no other children, just the miracle growing inside of her.
Trish whimpered as her emotions overtook her, she loved them, she wanted Lita more than words could describe, she needed Jeff to bring her chicken soup when she was feeling so well on the days when the kicking got too much.
She cried as she held her stomach, she wanted this baby more than anything in the world but how could she explain all the circumstances around it?
She was a bitch and her baby was a bastard. This wasn't supposed to be how it ended.
The thoughts kept coming inside her mind, the images of her family crying, sending vicious words her way. Trish reached out and flushed the toilet, watching the water swirl down the drain.
She really did throw her life away, for a child. Something that probably would never come her way again.
Trish curled up on the fluffy rug beside her tub, she closed her eyes for a moment and didn't open them again. She lay exhausted, used up. As dreams filled her head, Trish Stratus slept on her bathroom floor, hoping for a better day tomorrow.
It was... Bubba? Of all the people in the world to show up on her doorstep, Bubba never even entered her mind.
"What are..."
"Shut up, right now. I'm going to talk right now and you're going to listen, I don't care if you don't care I just need you to know that you've completely destroyed both of your friends in a matter of months." He said, his voice wavered, filled with so much anger that he was afraid he couldn't contain.
"And you are out here in Mayberry... alive."
He looked her up and down, shaking his head lightly, disgusted.
"You really don't know what they went through. You don't know how many times I've heard Lita crying, you don't know how many times I've seen her stare at your picture and fuck, you're out here, alive! Alive! I've heard that so many times from Jeff."
She had never seen anyone so angry, his body seemed on fire, his voice was weary but strong and it didn't seem likely that he would stop talking, so she watched and listened and winced at the mention of Lita. If they only knew why. They'd understand, they'd know.
"You're not even listening, you don't care how much they care. Hey, you wanna see how much they care? Here."
He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at her, she caught it before it hit the ground. She unfolded it slowly and her eyes widened at the face staring back at her. It was her own.
"Yeah, two months of printing flyers. They set up a phone bank, that sort of crap that happens in telethons."
She traced the word 'Missing Person' with her finger, it was surreal. They had all the appropriate info, three pictures, two personal photos and a publicity photo that they had just shot a month before she left. Smiling, happy. Something that she longed for now.
She read the address at the bottom, noting the New York address and felt something sink deep inside as she read... Trish Stratus Missing Person's Center.
"You just... I can't help but having so many emotions when I... I don't know you, Trish. I-"
She snapped her head up as she heard her name, no, that wasn't her name. She was Patricia, she had a new life, she was Patricia Stevenson. Patricia. God damn it, why were they trying so hard?
"Get out." She whispered, interrupting him. She crushed the piece of paper in her hand and threw it at him. "Get out!"
"No!" He shouted back, deflecting the ball. "I am not leaving, I'm not Jeff, I'm not Lita. I'm not fragile like they are. I am not leaving until you tell me why you left."
"I don't have to tell you a damn thing." She growled.
"You don't but just know that I won't leave until you do." He responded, calmly.
"I'll call the police." She screamed, frustrated. He wasn't budging, he wasn't going to flee like them.
"Go ahead, turn yourself in. We made sure to have a flyer posted in every police station in every county, every state, every province in Canada and the United States." He leaned against her couch, folding his arms over his chest.
She wasn't going to get off easily, he knew that she was probably fine here and that she had a merry little life here but no, life wasn't easy. You don't just run off, leaving your life behind, your friends, your family without getting some sort of a hassle. She deserves this, he knew she did.
"I'm... you just don't know, Bubba. You... Please, just go."
He shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you put your friends and family through such hell."
"God damn it! You're not my friend, okay. You shouldn't care so much, why the hell do you care!? Huh? Go away. Can't you guys see I'm alive and kicking? I'm not going to rip my wrists open again, don't worry about that. It's not Lita's fault, it's not Jeffy's fault. They don't have to worry."
He sighed, shaking his head once again. "I think that they're a bit past lecturing you, I think they just want their friend back."
"I'm not their friend anymore!" She screamed.
"And I want to know why." He stated firmly.
She sighed. "Bubba, I'm going to be nice, please, leave my home. I'm begging you."
"No."
"Fuck! Fine, I'm going into my kitchen and if you're not gone within five minutes, I'm going to leave again and this time, no one will find me, I'll make sure of it."
Their eyes locked and he knew she wasn't kidding but it also conveyed something else, something that she wouldn't admit to, fear. Something was up and he knew that she was building this wall for some reason.
She stood there, staring for a moment. He couldn't stay, he had a life to tend to. Dudley things to do. She quickly walked into her kitchen and leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath.
She ignored the tears that fell from her eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the she heard footsteps walking out of her room and the unmistakable squeak that meant someone was walking out of her house.
Trish closed her eyes and let out another breath, this was taking a toll on her, she wanted to tell them, she wanted to run off to find Lita and confide in her, cry and eat ice cream while watching Days of Our Lives or Young and the Restless comparing her life to theirs.
She sniffled and wiped off the counter, trying to find something to do to take the day off her mind. As she reached for the dirty tea cup on the table, a loud thump came from in the direction of the living room, she jumped and dropped the cup, sending it to the floor and breaking into tiny bits.
"What the..."
She maneuvered past the broken glass and stopped in the doorway of her kitchen as she spotted Bubba Ray, in her living room.
With two bags.
"What are those?"
"My stuff."
"And why the hell is it in my living room?"
"Don't worry, I'll move it." He smirked as she seemed to grow agitated again.
"WHY IS IT IN MY LIVING ROOM!?" She screamed, walking into the room, standing right in front of him.
"Like I said, I'm not leaving until you tell me why you left."
No, no, no. This wasn't good, it can't be happening. She absently ran her fingers through her hair and focused on the bags. Bubba Ray couldn't stay here but if she told him, he'd run off, tell Lita, tell Jeff, then the world would know.
"You can't..." She cut herself off as a wave of nausea hit her, she felt dizzy, her hand felt as if someone was banging it against a wall.
"I can't what?"
"You... not supposed..." She clutched her chest as she felt the bile rising in her throat, she groaned and quickly ran up the stairs. She ran as fast as she could to her bedroom, sending a table to the floor as she knocked into it.
She retched but nothing came, she had already done this three times today and she knew that there would be nothing coming. After the first few weeks, it hadn't been so bad, a few times here and there but now this stupid morning sickness was coming on during the day. How could morning sickness come on during the day?
She sat back on her heels and grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiping her mouth.
"You're too much for me."
She looked down at her stomach, this was her life. Her baby. She really wanted to tell them, talk about how she was so afraid of the idea of her as a mom but her family, they'd know she was a whore.
A baby out of wedlock within a catholic family.
A child conceived under false hopes.
They'd be ashamed, everyone would talk about her again, everyone would watch and laugh some more and she couldn't handle that. She didn't want to end up in a hospital again.
With blood on her hands and not just her own this time.
She leaned against the toilet, trying to regain some footing. No, Bubba Ray couldn't stay, he couldn't find out. This was her only chance to have a family, there could be no other children, just the miracle growing inside of her.
Trish whimpered as her emotions overtook her, she loved them, she wanted Lita more than words could describe, she needed Jeff to bring her chicken soup when she was feeling so well on the days when the kicking got too much.
She cried as she held her stomach, she wanted this baby more than anything in the world but how could she explain all the circumstances around it?
She was a bitch and her baby was a bastard. This wasn't supposed to be how it ended.
The thoughts kept coming inside her mind, the images of her family crying, sending vicious words her way. Trish reached out and flushed the toilet, watching the water swirl down the drain.
She really did throw her life away, for a child. Something that probably would never come her way again.
Trish curled up on the fluffy rug beside her tub, she closed her eyes for a moment and didn't open them again. She lay exhausted, used up. As dreams filled her head, Trish Stratus slept on her bathroom floor, hoping for a better day tomorrow.