5
"Steve!" she cried out, "Steve," she whimpered again. Her heart couldn't take anymore of these dreams; they were tearing her apart inside.
"Claire you alright?" whispered a voice from the darkness, it was a stupid question, however she replied anyway.
"Yeah I'm alright. Go back to sleep."
Leon didn't seem convinced, he walked a few steps closer into her room, "You sure?" he insisted.
Claire nodded her head, even though he couldn't see her, "Yeah," she repeated, "I'm fine."
He stood there for one second more before retreating.
Claire sat up and breathed out. Now it would take forever to fall asleep, but that dream was bothering her. More than the others she had before.
It felt and looked so vivid, as if it was really true. That it did happen. Claire laughed, she knew it couldn't be true, Steve was dead and that was that.
Unless…
No she wasn't going down that path again, not again. This time it would surely make her go completely crazy.
She quickly opened a drawer next to her, where her gun laid. However at the back was a small bottle, it was taped inside. She didn't trust anyone, not even Chris or Leon. Well it wasn't that she didn't trust them; only if they accidentally came across it then she would have to answer some questions. And she didn't want to explain to anyone about her business.
She opened it and shook one pill out, small and white against her warm- blooded skin. Claire stared at it and sighed popping it in her mouth and washing it down with a glass of water.
They were prescribed drugs, to keep her from 'flipping out', as the doctor put it. They kept her normal, instead of going a little close to the edge. In other words another near mental breakdown.
She nearly killed herself because she didn't accept his death. She had delusions of him. She knew that she had a problem, but even though seeing him for a few seconds made her feel divine again. Just to see him for one last time.
Conversely these delusions were costing her, her mind and eventually she couldn't handle the truth of his death.
She could still feel the cold metal razors slicing into her veins, unleashing the blood that coursed through them. She was so determined to end it then, and she would have if her thirst for retribution weren't that much more than death.
Chris, nor did Leon knew about what happened to her. They were investigating leads into Umbrella when she 'flipped out', and it was about two months when she was on the drugs and trying desperately to gain what little of her life back, that she felt a little bit normal again and understood that he was dead.
She looked down at the wrists; she just could make out the light scars in the dark. She touched them, there were healed, but she could almost feel a slight ache above the veins. She rubbed them gently trying to forget the past. It was the best thing to do. Forget and get on with things.
She lay back down and closed her eyes, she needed to sleep, but most of all she needed to stop thinking.
Well at least for the night…
…If she could.
"Steve!" she cried out, "Steve," she whimpered again. Her heart couldn't take anymore of these dreams; they were tearing her apart inside.
"Claire you alright?" whispered a voice from the darkness, it was a stupid question, however she replied anyway.
"Yeah I'm alright. Go back to sleep."
Leon didn't seem convinced, he walked a few steps closer into her room, "You sure?" he insisted.
Claire nodded her head, even though he couldn't see her, "Yeah," she repeated, "I'm fine."
He stood there for one second more before retreating.
Claire sat up and breathed out. Now it would take forever to fall asleep, but that dream was bothering her. More than the others she had before.
It felt and looked so vivid, as if it was really true. That it did happen. Claire laughed, she knew it couldn't be true, Steve was dead and that was that.
Unless…
No she wasn't going down that path again, not again. This time it would surely make her go completely crazy.
She quickly opened a drawer next to her, where her gun laid. However at the back was a small bottle, it was taped inside. She didn't trust anyone, not even Chris or Leon. Well it wasn't that she didn't trust them; only if they accidentally came across it then she would have to answer some questions. And she didn't want to explain to anyone about her business.
She opened it and shook one pill out, small and white against her warm- blooded skin. Claire stared at it and sighed popping it in her mouth and washing it down with a glass of water.
They were prescribed drugs, to keep her from 'flipping out', as the doctor put it. They kept her normal, instead of going a little close to the edge. In other words another near mental breakdown.
She nearly killed herself because she didn't accept his death. She had delusions of him. She knew that she had a problem, but even though seeing him for a few seconds made her feel divine again. Just to see him for one last time.
Conversely these delusions were costing her, her mind and eventually she couldn't handle the truth of his death.
She could still feel the cold metal razors slicing into her veins, unleashing the blood that coursed through them. She was so determined to end it then, and she would have if her thirst for retribution weren't that much more than death.
Chris, nor did Leon knew about what happened to her. They were investigating leads into Umbrella when she 'flipped out', and it was about two months when she was on the drugs and trying desperately to gain what little of her life back, that she felt a little bit normal again and understood that he was dead.
She looked down at the wrists; she just could make out the light scars in the dark. She touched them, there were healed, but she could almost feel a slight ache above the veins. She rubbed them gently trying to forget the past. It was the best thing to do. Forget and get on with things.
She lay back down and closed her eyes, she needed to sleep, but most of all she needed to stop thinking.
Well at least for the night…
…If she could.