As the Sun Shone
By Isabel Juno
Authors Notes: the beginning poem is written by myself and for anybody whose read my work you will notice a recurring themeā¦. And to be honest I don't know why but the theme fascinates me in a morbid way. Also my lack of ownership over CSI and its characters vexes me to no end someday i shall own them... soon my pet soon! but i do own the Poem... consilation prize i suppose... WOOT! READ & REVIEW PLEASE!
Shining, sleek, like the smoothest silk
As the sun shone
Knotted the soft tie
As the sun shone
Polished your shoes
As the sun shone
Fastened your belt
As the sun shone
Closed the door
As the sun shone
Cleared your throat
As the sun shone
Stepped into the shower
As the sun shone
Cool and refreshing
As the sun shone
The water cascaded
As the sun shone
Hands oddly steady
As the sun shone
Clothes became soaked
As the sun shone
Took a deep breath
As the sun shone
Slid the shining smoothness across your wrists
As the sun shone
Tears mingled with the rain of the pipes
As the sun shone
The waters turned pink then red
As the sun shone
You gasped
As the sun shone
The world felt as if it were quaking
As the sun shone
You fell to your knees
As the sun shone
Groping blindly for purchase
As the sun shone
All you saw was darkness
As the sun shone
The shining smoothness clattered on the porcelain coated bottom
As the sun shone
Your vision returned for a moment
As the sun shone
You saw the red disappearing
As the sun shone
Swirling in a whirlpool down the drain
As the sun shone
And in your last moments
As the sun shone
You shed one last tear
As the sun shone
Suicides were never something that Gil dealt well with. The idea of somebody taking their own life confused him almost as much as Greg Sander's hair. Today was different though, he sat staring into his large whiskey wishing it didn't have a bottom. Catherine sat with tears surfing their way down her face and into her oblivious hands. Greg looked like he was fighting back the tears and even his hair looked depressed. Sara was shaking and being held by an equally shaky Warrick. Nick had his head in his hands and his whole frame was shaking letting Gil know he was silently sobbing. In the course of a twenty second conversation with them he had reduced them all to this and it wasn't something he ever wanted to do again. He felt his eyes glaze over with repressed emotion as he fought back tears that were pleading to overtake him as well.
He'd just gone to see how he was doing. Warrick said he'd been upset. He'd used a key he had been given a few years before. He'd heard the shower going and knocked on the relatively sturdy pine.
Nobody had answered. He'd knocked and called his name several times and had threatened to call the fire brigade as a joke. Still, there had been no response. He'd been worried and had called one last time through the door and again failed to receive a reply. He'd slammed his shoulder into the door after finding it to be locked. His shoulder was still sore from that. The fourth time the door had burst open into an almost frigid bathroom. He'd hesitantly called his friends name before pulling back the shower curtain. He'd seen his friend lying there with the frightfully sharp, shiny, smooth dagger lying beside him. He was clothed in his best suit and tie. He was also horribly pale. Gil had screamed out his name and pulled his friend out of the shower checking for a pulse. Screaming for him not to be gone. But he was. Gil had felt an overwhelming wave of noxiousness take him over and the world swam around him. He'd fallen back hitting his head on the door and scrabbling up and tearing his way to the front door like a bat out of hell. As soon as he was out the door he stumbled tripped falling to his knees and expelling his stomach contents onto the forest green grass.
As soon as he'd recovered himself enough to stop vomiting he'd called Catherine and told her tersely to come to their friends house. When she'd arrived he'd been sitting on the porch steps shaking slightly. The look in his eyes was mournful and she'd entered dreading confirmation of what she feared had happened. When she entered the bathroom and saw his body and the shower still going she clapped a hand to her mouth and fought valiantly against the tears threatening to overtake her. She edged around the body and turned of the shower catching site of the knife in on the floor of the tub as well. Her tears sprang back to her eyes, unbidden and she made her way unsteadily back to the porch where Gil sat still trembling.
Now they all sat shaking, crying, and struggling to drown the pain in whiskey. Nobody knew why he'd done it. But they all knew they'd miss him. They all knew that the world was worse off without Detective Jim Brass.
Gil
stepped out into the day in preparation for the funeral to come
as
the sun shone...
READ & REVIEW PLEASE!
