Disclaimer: Marvel, and the X-men, are not mine. Maria is. Please ask before you use her. Thanks.
Archive: Please. Please ask first.
A Cut of Cajun: Chapter Two
She had been moved from the wooden room to a nicer one, with some furniture and a bed. The aide had pointed up at a camera high up on the wall.
"There are only women watching you, but if you attempt to harm yourself, in any way, we will rush down and either put you into the room you were in before or into a laboratory, this time tied down."
Maria only nodded as she sat on the bed. She was tired, and her hands were shaking, but she didn't feel like doing anything.
"Can I…can I smoke?"
"No, child, you may not. Nor drink, or cut—only heal. That is the only thing you are allowed to do here."
Maria only nodded, then leaned back and closed her eyes.
It was the first soft, warm bed she had had in a while. Ever since she became addicted and was thrown out. She hadn't minded the lack of a home, just as long as she could cut and drink all she wanted…she had also smoked and swallowed random pills.
After the blurred darkness of her childhood she had loved the sharp, acute feeling the drugs gave her, the peace and the joy. It made all the bad emotions blot out. She opened her eyes to see light shining through the ceiling, where there was a glass sky-light. She could see the sky, and trees leaned into the view. She thought she saw a pair of wings flash by, and when she closed her eyes again she saw a forest, with a fountain in the center and foxes were bathing in the water. A cub got out, shook itself off and crawled into her lap…she was sitting cross-legged on the grass in a flowing white dress, and a white peacock strode past, its head held high. A tiger crawled out from the bushes, paused to contemplate her, then disappeared in amongst the trees…
When Maria opened her eyes again she saw her hand, where he had stepped on it. It had black and blue bruises forming on it, but she realized that it was the best kind of pain she had ever felt.
From the other side of the door the aide smiled as she heard the even breathing coming from within. It was such a great feeling, to meet a troubled mind and follow it through its progress of recovery.
She herself had suffered a similar fate, on the streets, with shame and sorrow. She had allowed herself to shrink from a proud woman of stature, to a meager, drug-addicted prostitute. Anyone with money could have all she had to offer.
But he had offered her more than money…he had offered her a change of life, and when she proved herself as a completely new, changed, sympathetic but determined person he had given her a job as a nurse, treating the other people that he brought in.
She knew enough about his past to know why he did this…about the accident, how hard he had tried to save the one person that he loved, and how hard he had failed. After her death, he had practically beaten any other addict that he found. And he had healed the poor kids in an amazing way.
He always treated them rough at first. But he earned their respect. He broke them, but then gave them back their honor a thousand fold.
There was a plate of salad, a fresh fruit juice and a plate of whole-meal bread with butter waiting on a tray at the end of the bed.
Maria sat up cautiously, weighing her reaction to being awake. Her hands had stopped shaking.
She carefully sipped the juice, then bit into the bread. Nothing had ever tasted better.
She looked up into the skylight and saw that there was a brilliant sunset streaked across the sky, reflecting in the clouds. She smiled, breathing deeply.
Looking across the room at the camera she tipped the glass slightly in its direction and nodded once. "Thanks," she said, barely audibly.
Then smashed the glass across the side of the tray. Picking up a shard she slit her wrist, leaning back into the pillows as the last of the sun played across the sky.
Blood pooled around her onto her lap. 'What a wonderful way to die,' she thought.
"Get down there immediately!" thundered the head nurse, a large woman of forty two who always wore her hair in a bun.
"Melanie, I told you, so many times, that you not give them glass, ever! You should know better than that. I don't care if you're new, you never give a cutter a glass cup!"
A young aide cowered in a corner. "I'm…I'm so sorry Mrs. Wells, she just seemed so healthy, and happy. I was sure she wouldn't try that."
"Well, she did," answered the woman. "Where's the first aid team, send them down immediately!" her voice roared across the room, and everyone jumped into action. "Get fresh clothes! And when you're done, move her down to the lab."
"Wait, not the lab," cut in a voice from the other side of the room.
Mrs. Wells turned around. "You know as well as I do, Emma, that it is the only way. She is a very cunning girl. But you know what the rules are. He would not be pleased if we broke them."
"Look…" the blue eyes filled with tears. "She has suffered enough. She was happy, I could feel it. Her life must be dreadful, that she never believes that she can get happiness without drugs. Please, do not do this to her." Victoria's face crumpled. "She is just a child, Ellen."
Mrs. Wells bit her lip, and she looked undecided for a moment, but her expression of anger returned presently.
"A child who just attempted to kill herself."
Perhaps she had gone a little far with the piece of glass. The cut had been so much deeper than she had wanted. But it didn't matter. Death had been hanging around her for a long time. Drugs, drink and cutting had been her only firm hold on this earth. Someone had taken them away and she had responded in the only manner that she could.
Violently.
Now Maria could no longer feel anything, or hear anything. It was only a matter of time…and then all time stopped.
Would she go to hell? As far as she was concerned, she was already there.
Would she go to heaven? Probably not. But sitting in that forest, in her dream, with the baby fox in her lap, the tiger looking at her, the white peacock…that had been her heaven.
If the world could only be like that, she would have stayed, but she knew…once the rehab was over they would throw her out again. She had been abandoned one too many times.
She could no longer feel anything at all, but that one, last, perfect sunset sat in her memory forever…and the free, lithe wings of a bird fluttering across the sky.
A.N: Okay, well, there is chapter two. It is much longer than most of my chapters, but it may be a weird one. It is 1:18 right now, I have just finished it, so, well, blame any weirdness on…let's see, caffeine, the summer night's heat, my legs are starting to cramp from sitting down for too long and I'm starting to get writer's block. If you liked A Cut of Cajun, please do not hesitate to say so. It is the only thing that will keep me going.