I don't know about any of you guys, but I am totally in LOVE with Shawn Spencer from "Psych" on USA…but that's just me I guess…
Updating again!
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I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how, in the last day and half, my life had turned upside-down, and I was planning on committing suicide.
Sounds quite morbid, I know, but really it wasn't. Well, maybe it was looking at it with an outsider's view, but to me it wasn't, because I knew that after I died I would be in Heaven.
Or close to it.
I would be back in Paris before everything went horribly wrong, and when life was worth living. Before I had had filled in for Christine in Don Juan Triumphant, but after I had met François at the masquerade.
My mind had been made up, and I knew which world I truly belonged in. Not here in the time where the pizza guy got to your house faster than the police, but when anything at all could happen. Dreams came true and you really did meet your Prince Charming and lived happily ever after.
Which is exactly what I was going to do.
The plan was all worked out in my head, I was going to sneak downstairs, find a knife (what is it with me and Clair's Gram's knives?) and commit the traditional throat slit.
Quick, easy, and to the point; although the same can't say the same about cleanliness, sadly. If there was an easier way that didn't involve so much mess I'd gladly have opted for it, not wanting to bother Clair any more than necessary, but hey, what can you do?
The most difficult part of this whole operation would be my ankle. It would obviously be hard to get over my friends and then downstairs without making a huge fuss that would pretty much reveal my plans, but I was going to have to try.
I sat up slowly, drawing the musty and faded old quilt from around my shoulders, and got up to my knees, surveying the pattern of the bodies around me.
Clair was on my left and Abby to my right, Brad next to Abby (even though they didn't know it they were such a cute would-be couple) Aaron next to Clair, Christi over by the half wall that overlooked the downstairs, and Ethan to her right, my left. Kurt by him, and then Kelee, Jenny and Zach sprawled out between them.
I rose to my feet, raising the blanket and biting down hard on it as I set down my gimp foot. Tears sprang into my eyes, but I blinked them back, dropping the quilt and taking the first step toward my perfect future…
I drug my left foot after me, and used all the willpower I possessed to keep myself from yelling.
The next step…I passed Abby, who was snuggled up next to Brad. I smiled and tried to imagine what François and I would look like.
Another…Brad was so sweet…I almost wished I could see the look on their faces when Clair and the rest of them woke them up with their giggles and taunts.
Yet again stepping, splintering pain shooting up my body and making me with I had a sedative to get me through this.
I grasped the railing and started down the stairs, creeping as quietly as I could…treading lightly and not crying out when I moved my ankle.
Slowly but surely I got to the bottom of the stairs, with a light sheen of sweat on my forehead that was wiped as I descended the last step.
But I dared pause for only a moment, for morning was only two hours away…
Of course, problems in my previously efficient plan began to spring up as I painfully pattered to the kitchen…
Suicide was a sin, and therefore I could go straight to hell…but it couldn't be that bad…unless the Bible was suddenly changed.
A dead weight settled on my shoulders, and an iron grip was around my chest making my breathing come with difficulty…for sure I would be sent straight to the Seventh level of Hell…
Father Daniel's sermon about the levels of Hell came back to me, and his description of the seventh circle sounded even though no one was speaking…
"Guarded by the Minotaur, who snarls in fury, and encircled within the river Phlegethon, filled with boiling blood, is the Seventh Level of Hell. The violent, the assassins, the tyrants, and the war-mongers lament their pitiless mischiefs in the river, while centaurs armed with bows and arrows shoot those who try to escape their punishment.
"The stench here is overpowering. This level is also home to the wood of the suicides- stunted and gnarled trees with twisting branches and poisoned fruit. At the time of final judgment, their bodies will hang from their branches.
"In those branches the Harpies, foul birdlike creatures with human faces, make their nests. Beyond the wood is scorching sand where those who committed violence against God and nature are showered with flakes of fire that rain down against their naked bodies. Blasphemers and sodomites writhe in pain, their tongues more loosed to lamentation, and out of their eyes gushes forth their woe. Usurers, who followed neither nature nor art, also share company in the Seventh Level."
I felt sick and keeled over, expecting to taste vomit, but instead the tears that ran to my lips.
I didn't want to go to Hell…even if it was only Purgatory or Limbo, and certainly not the Seventh Level…oh God…how was I supposed to live with myself knowing that after I finally died I would be descending to pain and suffering until final judgment, but even after that day I would remain forever there with no relief?
Cold swept over me, and chills racked my body, my shoulders shaking incessantly. I wanted away from here…but I didn't want Hell…but I just couldn't stay here, I couldn't…and I'd already made it down so far, and going back up would kill me anyway, what with the blinding hurt from every waking step.
I wanted to fall on the ground and lie there until God made the decision for me, but I couldn't. I had to make the choice for myself.
Damnation for all eternity, or living the happiest that I possibly could for as long as my body allows me and then Damnation.
I straightened; a reassuring thought put into my mind.
If I was going to wind up in Hell…then I was going to enjoy what little time I had on this Earth in the best period I could imagine, with a man who loved me completely and literally living in a story book.
I held my head high with my bottom lip bit in more with each step as I walked toward the kitchen to meet with the love of my life…François.
"François…" I whispered, startling him from sleep.
"Fleur, you came." He said affectionately, and I smiled.
"How could I not?"
"I feared that you would be kept away by your ankle." He said, and I simply bent and kissed him softly.
"Nothing could keep me from you." I said, and started to untie him.
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Umm…yeah.
No proofreading and some serious Brain Damage on behalf of Katey.
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