2 and ½ weeks
Only guilt
Summary: As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.
Disclaimer: Who says it's mine? Hands up! Sorry, you're wrong!
---
I just can't seem to help adding Paul into my fics these days! lol
---
Only guilt. Huh. What a phrase.
This guilt physically hurt, made her sick, ate away at her resistance until she cried again. Awake or asleep she could feel it, it wasn't lessening any. She stood in the shower and let her tears mingle with the spray and swirl down the drain. If only she could wash away the guilt and send it the same way. As she got out Kirsten caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and it held her for a moment. She hadn't looked at herself recently. She took in the pale, thin girl in the glass and didn't recognize herself. Suddenly she realized she couldn't meet her own eyes. She skated over her face rather than looking at it. Not able to meet her own gaze, look at herself. And that was when she knew she had a bigger problem. She wasn't just distraught about this, she was controlled by it. She'd once heard that people who killed someone, spies, assassins, murderers, only knew they were going to be okay when they could look into the mirror and look themselves in the eye. As melodramatic as it sounded she knew that was what she had to do. Then she'd be alright. She had killed her child and she would suffer for that, but she would survive if she could only look at herself. Admit to herself who she was and what she had done.
Slowly she raised her eyes to meet those of her reflection.
The eyes in the mirror were reddened and glassy with tears, the pupils large and empty.
Hollow.
She forced herself to keep looking.
They looked green rather than blue.
She could see right into herself and she didn't like it.
Killer. Her eyes said.
No. I'm a realist. I had to.
They were filled with regret.
No. Guilt. Guilt. Oceans of guilt.
They were dark and dull, empty. Lost.
She felt as empty as her eyes. As lost.
Perhaps she was.
But at the same time there was something behind them. They were guarded.
She had something to hide now.
'My name is Kirsten Nichol,' she told the reflection, watching the other girl's lips move with hers.
'My name is Kirsten Nichol and…'
She couldn't say it out loud. She took a deep breath.
'My name is Kirsten Nichol and…sometimes things just…happen.'
Yes. Something had happened but it was over now.
The other girl was always going to be on the other side of the mirror. She was never going to look at her reflection the same way again but at least she could look at it.
Sometimes things just happen and she had to live with it.
Live with it. Not for now but forever.
Forever was an awful long time to keep such a secret but she had to.
Forever, because sometimes things just happen.
---
'Sometimes these things just happen,' Paul told him sympathetically. 'Things just don't work out.'
'Why were you telling me last week that she was a keeper then?'
'Well…uh…fate works in mysterious ways.'
'Mysterious. Great.'
'She's a woman, it's what you signed up for by being straight,' someone else chipped in.
'Thanks. That's really comforting.'
'Come on Sandman, don't get yourself down over another girl, I thought we were past this.'
'Kirsten isn't just another girl.'
'Sandy, you've known her, what, seven weeks?'
'Almost eight.'
'Apples and pears. In other words, no time. It can't have meant that much.'
'I don't know. I thought it did. She obviously didn't.'
'Just like someone else we could mention,' Paul commented. 'What is it with you and those kinda girls?'
'Don't.' Sandy said, his voice hard like steel. 'Just. Don't.'
'Sorry.'
'Nah, I shouldn't have snapped at ya.'
'We get why you're upset,' Paul began.
'Yeah, that chick was hot.'
Sandy sighed. They weren't going to understand. Perhaps he was a fool but he'd fallen hard for her and now he was taking this messy pseudo-break-up even harder. The guys wanted him to go out, get plastered and forget about her but how could he? She wasn't forgettable and he was worried about her. Upset by the tears rolling down her porcelain cheeks, angry because he didn't know what to do.
---
There was someone waiting for Sandy after he finished his last class on Wednesday afternoon but it wasn't who he wanted to see.
It was Kirsten's roommate.
'What the hell did you do to her Cohen?' she yelled at him, storming over and blocking his exit from the courtyard, hands on hips, eyes flashing demandingly.
'What's wrong with Kirsten?' he asked anxiously.
'Last week I told you she was moping, crying, well that was nothing compared to this week; I didn't know someone could cry that much.'
'What do you mean?'
'She's distraught, crying all the time, sobbing in fact.'
'I haven't done anything; she won't even talk to me.'
'You saw her though,'
'I didn't do anything. You really think I'd upset her like that? Come on.'
'All I know is that she seemed better after the weekend. I don't know, decided, resolute…I thought she was over you. Then she went out on Monday, saw you and hasn't been sensible since. No one should cry that much over a guy and certainly not over you.'
'Yes she saw me; yes I tried to talk to her. She was the one who blanked me.'
'Well now she's beside herself, stays in bed, skips classes, cries herself sick. She hasn't slept in days.'
'You've got to let me see her.'
'Don't you think you've done enough?'
---
Have
I done enough? Should I stop here? hahaha
---