Title taken from the Brad Paisley/Alison Krauss song. I took a handful of artistic liberties because we really don't know a lot about either of the two characters.
Whiskey Lullaby
Molly Fitzpatrick had been introduced to Jack Daniels at the age of fourteen. One of the benefits of being the progeny of a particularily rough around the edges Irish family was it had bestowed upon her an extreme ability to hold her liqour. And the few times she had gotten really soused, hadn't been like the other girls, she wasn't a weepy drunk or an embarassing drunk or a slutty drunk. She was an angry drunk.
Despite, or perhaps because of this this she had never been much of a drinker. Despite the fact she had few friends due to her family's notoriety, she had always found solace in her writing. She had never hit the bottle as a way to distract herself from her life's reality. She had kept a detailed journal on loose leaf paper held together with rubber bands hidden in a false bottom in her desk drawer since the age of eight. She had brought those papers wirh her that night. But this night would be different from all the othernights.
Tonight she was drinking to forget.
When she had heard the news of Felix's death she had been stunned. She only had an inkling of what had happened, but that knowledge brought her absolutely no comfort.
They had always known their relationship was dangerous to both themselves and by association their loved ones, few as they were. But over the past two years the affectionate, but uneasy friendship that had developed between the two of them in ten years of combined cathecism classes, stints as altar boys and summer-session church sponsored day camp, had developed into something that consumed them both. They both ccould have been up for Oscar nominations with the way they were able to hide from everyone else. The past two years had been a flurry of clandestine meetings under the boardwalk and other places generally deserted past ten pm, and gentle hidden glances in the school hallways.
Truth be told, she had kind of enjoyed the forbidden nature of their relationship. Being with Felix had made her feel like she was worth something, and he was something that was so diametrically opposite to so many of the men she knew in her life. Even with her knowledge of Shakespeare and old musicals, it had never really sunk in how badly this could end.
It had only been recently that she had began to understand that she was in love with him. Love was a concept only encountered in books for her. Relationships were either about sex or money or power, never about feelings or passion even.
That was why his death had hit her so hard. In the past days she has found it hard to sleep or eat or do her work properly. Her schoolwork had dropped drastically, and her service at the River Styx had become abysmal. It had gotten so bad that her goddamn lisp, which she thought was finally banished by therapy at age twelve, had returned. If anyone had bothered to shown any rare concern, she would have claimed stress, or sickness.
But no one did.
It was only a few that she had begun to turn to the bottle of whiskey to forget all the good memories she had of Felix, whether him pulling her pigtail during First Communion or ont he beach when she had convinced him to take a couple strips of those ridiculous mall photo-booth shots. She had started on Just Mikes Hard Lemonade, but tonight had made it up to pure bourbon right from the bottle.
This night sober for the first time in days, she made her plans.
She took all her journals and two metal objects into her purse before departing.
When she reached the bridge she had half a bottle of whiskey she finished itidly twirling on the edge looking down at the ocean, into its dark black depths.
The memory that made her shed the first tears since the stabbing in this very place was when in a slightly awkward moment after church two years ago when he had kissed her suddenly, and she hadn't known what to think.
She finished her whiskey, now realizing that no amount of alcohol would ever make her able to forget. All she could do was try her part in making things right.
She scrawled something in sharpie on the front of her journals and stuck them halfway into her jacket.
With determined finger she pulled out her cell phone and slowly dialed 911
When the woman's voice answers, Molly pauses to gain composure and strength. When the woman asks again she almost inaudiably mutters two words.
Help Me
She places her open phone on the pavement, they'll be able to find her.
Biting her lip. she pulls out the second metal object. After chacking to make sure she won't fall in the water, she takes a deep breath, thinks once more of that day on the beach.
She placed the cold piece of metal to her right temple and pulled the trigger...
To whomever should find me,
I cannot go on anymore knowing what I do. Don't let any family come to my funeral other than Patrick. Enclosed in these pages is important information, read it.
Logan Echolls didn't kill Felix Toombs. Felix was too strong to be killed by some drunken rich boy punk, I hope this will help you discover who really is responsible, and help stop the circus this town is quickly becoming.
Bury me in this dress.
As far as I know the Catholic Church does allow girls to become altar boys now lisps usually don't come and go, but I noticed she didn't have one in Ahoy Mateys but she did in Rashard and Wallace go to White Castle.