DISCLAIMER – I in no way own Basil of Bakerstreet or GMD – this should be obvious! I do however, own Vixie and Roxi Deveroux do not use her unless you ask me first!! Thank you!
Author Notes – This is a very angst filled piece in fact several people will probably want some Kleenex for this one. It is based on an RP currently being done at a board owned by Ethel Grimes. Vixie Deveroux is my own creation. Sebastion Doran is from the Basil of Bakerstreet Canon, by Eve Titus. However, he is also based off of Miss Amber's version of his character. I in NO way own him…Thank You. Enjoy reading, this is a one-shot so please review after you finish. It is greatly appreciated!
There are some people who cannot say goodbye. Vixie Deveroux was perhaps the most notorious of these culprits. All endings and beginnings happen for a reason, but to her the reasoning was lax and utterly unreasonable. There had been many people in her young life of sixteen years who had said goodbye. Though those were not the people she remembered on this night – they would never stick out in her mind. It was the ones who did not have a chance to say goodbye to her that she was recalling; memories from a very long time ago. Perhaps better left forgotten…
The night was pale and bright, a light snow was starting and the London air, for once, was clear of all fog. Vixie sat atop the window seat in her room. The room was quite lavish, full of dark mahoganies with burgundy on the walls. In a word it was not what one would expect in a young lady's room. However, it was not truly hers in the first place. The house she had been living in the past few months belonged to her adoptive father – one Captain Sebastian Doran. Vixie at first had been very leery of him but soon realized he was genuine and kind and warmed up to him quickly after that.
He had been letting them – Vixie and her elder sister Roxi – stay there for the latter half of the winter.
However, on this night Vixie had become quite bereft, leaving her sister and the rest of her family to themselves. She had slipped quietly out of the sitting room and found salvation within the comfort and protection of the silent burgundy walls, locking herself within the room. She sat gazing out her window and thinking of the past…of her mother.
It was Christmas Day, a time where one should be rejoicing and celebrating with family and friends, however, Vixie did not believe in such things. To her it was simply another day gone by, another day wasted. She had only been able to spend a few short Christmas seasons with her real family, five or six to be exact. Her elder brother Corbin had gone away to school and her punishing father had made every day, especially holidays, a living Hell.
Soon she cleared her mind and tried to find something to cheer her dying soul with. She had been alone in the world for so long, and seen far too many things too fast. The world had eaten up the child inside of her and spit out an adult who had been forced to grow up far too quickly. Though she was surrounded by her family and friends she could not see them, even when they were standing directly in front of her. The years had blinded her heart and turned it cold – no one could be trusted and no one could be let in. To break these two rules would mean she was going against her spirit and would ultimately perish. Though it seemed enforcing them was killing her faster. She was losing hope and the will to go on. For when one believes the world to be a dark and sinister place hope can never fly free.
She continued to gaze out her window, looking up at the night sky, she felt herself smile suddenly. She was not sure why she was smiling but knew there must have been a good reason for it. Or perhaps she was going insane, it would be a nice change from the normal world, perhaps through insanity she would finally be able to find some joy in life. Along with her smile came soft tears, though she did not realize the tears had started to fall. Softly words came to her mouth soft and gentle.
"God…" she looked down for moment almost denying the being existence then continued looking up again, "God if you are up there…I thought perhaps, perhaps I might be obliged to ask you a question?" She paused then slowly her words started again, "I wonder can you hear me up there…? Perhaps I did not say enough prayers or speak of you enough…but why? Why would you be so cruel and unkind…? Why?"
She sat contemplating for a moment then looked back at the sky. "I sing myself to sleep so often – waiting, for someone, anyone to hold me. Waiting for someone to love me and tell me everything will be alright…but it never is…it never will be. Do you create us just to play with us and cast us aside, is there a reason I was born?" She sat quietly and started to sob silently into her hands, her hair coming down and her tears falling hard, after a bit she looks up again, anger present in her eyes and sighed heavily, "I used to be afraid of death, afraid of dying, but now I fear it the only road, the only path…why can I not find happiness? Why? I am tired of being strong of having to be the one without fear and being mean and selfish…I cannot do it any more!! DO YOU HEAR ME!?!" She raised suddenly lashing out and hitting a porcelain lamp upon her nightstand, the pieces cutting her hand like thorns on a rose. She looked up and sighed, upon her desk her journal lay open, as she gazed at it a feeling of lament became stronger and stronger.
Outside of the room her family became quite upset by the sounds ushering from the once merry festivities taking place, suddenly Captain Doran stood and walked to his adoptive daughter's door. "Vixie, my darling, whatever is the matter?"
Vixie's ears caught his voice and she turned suddenly thinking up anything she could to tell him, "Oh nothing…nothing Papa, I simply knocked over a lamp." She hoped this would be enough to sustain his wondering mind.
"Alright…" it came unsurely but he continued, "Just…do hurry dearest, we want to make sure you open all of your gifts." He left her to herself then, she had always been like a little pistol, firing off her temper at the most inopportune times.
She sighed with relief and fell to her knees upon the floor she then brandished a small pistol from under her skirt and sighed running her thin fingers over the weapon. It had always been her favorite. She had managed to get herself out of many scrapes with it – it was perhaps her one true friend. She lifted it and smiled, "Well, old friend…we have been through a lot haven't we? What do say…are you tired as well?" She gently lifted the pistol, rolling the bullet tray, one bullet inside. Suddenly she snapped it shut raising the pistol to her temple, several tears strayed from her un-closing eyes, she had been screaming for so long – for someone to help her but she had grown weary of screaming and longed for once to be happy and simply throw her cares away.
"They say good friends won't lie to you…" she paused reminiscing once more, her becoming softer, "…please don't lie to me."
The Captain and his family had been joking and singing merrily. Around them several small infants played with wrappings and ribbons. The adults had been enjoying champagne and caviar. Suddenly, however, time stopped as a loud crack rang throughout the large mansion, all eyes turned to the large and lavish room just down the hall. Outside a soft snow began to fall – God was sending kisses to the angel that had been forgotten.