This new fanfic is out of the ordinary for me, but I wanted to it out. I watched the movie for the first time last year, and I watched it a few weeks ago. I got the idea around the end of December, and I got started on this yesterday.
I don't remember it all too well, despite having watched it. Also, I hope you don't mind the cover. I couldn't find a tasteful screenshot to reflect the story's plot, and I couldn't use the movie's poster as my cover. I thought it was too redundant.
I know this story's unexpected. Even I think it's unexpected. But I never thought I'd be able to write this fic until I actually did it.
Well, now that I've gotten this out of the way, let's jump right on and get started on this fanfic. =D
Donna watched the paramedics wheel the gurney away, unable to choke back the heart-wrenched sobs. Her tears rolled down her face, reaching a hand, feeling another hand grab her shoulder, crying out. She looked back, seeing her aunt's face looking at her worryingly.
"It's okay," said Aunt Karen, "it's okay."
Donna, choking back tears, turned around and fell into her arms, more tears steaming down her face. She watched the paramedics, after getting the gurney inside, close the ambulance doors. The siren blared with with lights flashing. The ambulance drove off, taking Bobby away. He was gone. The police gathered around her, asking her aunt questions that she didn't answer. She urged them to leave her alone, and yet, Donna didn't want them to leave. Anything was better than facing the upcoming loneliness.
She broke the hug, heading for the front door.
"Donna?," said Aunt Karen, brow furrowed. She glimpsed at the officer and back, her worry rising like a tide.
Donna thumped up the stairs, police officers passing her by, not bothering to give her a second glance. When the last one left the house, she reached the top, and strode down the hall, her destination: her bedroom. This was where he was died. Her boyfriend...and him. Fenton. He was the bane of her existence. He was always on her mind. He haunted every corner of her subconscious. He was always there. In her dreams. In her thoughts. She saw his face still fresh as the day she met him. He was like a virus. A leech that latched on to her soul and never let to. It was like having a parasite that threatened to take away everything that made her her.
Her eyes scanned every inch of her room. Donna looked from the floors to the walls to the windows. Her bed was still dressed in its neutral-colored comforter. The door to her personal bathroom was half-open. Her closet was wide open; all her clothes were in their place, neatly handing on the hangers. She stared at it, then after a minute, she stepped in, closing after she was inside.
Donna turned around, sliding to the floor, sitting on her haunches. She felt a stream of tears welling up her eyes, and no matter how hard she fought, the tears inevitably rolled down her cheeks. She cradled her head in her hands, her sobs coming out muffled. She coughed, sniffling. She wiped her tears with her sleeve. The grief flooded her, seeping in to her very core. It threatened to twist her until the grief was all she felt.
All of this happened because of you.
No, it isn't.
She let out a squeal, lowering her hands, resting them on her knees. Her eyes flooded with tears looked at anything to not have to look at herself.
This is all your fault.
I didn't mean for this to happen.
Oh, so you're saying that this is my fault?
No, but I really mean for any of this to happen.
Donna looked up, head hanging back. She squinted her eyes from the lightbulb's brightness. Images from tonight's terror flickered before her eyes. She saw every moment with Bobby, and every moment with her friend at the hotel. The lights, the razzmatazz, the hotel's indulgent atmosphere. It ensnared you, making you drunk on the feeling, making you feel on top until the decadence is all you feel.
Tonight was so supposed to be perfect.
Aw. That's too bad, but that's really not my problem. We don't always get what we want.
I didn't want for this to happen. I didn't want this! I didn't want Fenton to find me. I didn't want my friends to get killed. I didn't want Bobby to die.
But it happened. All of these things happened because. He killed everyone to get to you. Maybe if you had been his bitch, none of this would've happen.
She breathed a breath, a breath to steady herself. Her rubbed her hands against her cheeks to see of she was still here. She could still see the hotel's party room decorated with streamed and balloons. She could still hear the music, the gowns in all colors. Donna could almost see the crown. It looked so pretty with its miniature fake jewels, almost wishing it were made of real diamond.
He almost had you.
Don't remind me.
I'm just letting you know of what almost would've been.
Please, I just want to forget this night happened.
Donna hung her head, pressing her forehead against her knees, squeezing her eye shut. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could disappear into the wall.
I'm lucky to be alive.
You're lucky to be alive? Are you lucky to have your friends killed all for a guy who had it in for you?
Shut up.
Hey, I'm just saying. That sleazebag had been stalking you since day one. You turned down every move he made, and he ended killing your brother and your parents.
So you're saying I should've been his from the start?
Either that, or letting yourself get killed.
Donna's eyes stared vacantly at the closet doors. She looked between the shutters, the patterns blurred and blended on top of each other. It was like the air was punched out of her; a shell with merely a life to fill it. Even death was more merciful than this.
Jail couldn't contain that maniac.
He should've been given the death penalty.
That wouldn't have stopped him. Even death couldn't keep him from finding you.
Donna looked up, trembling in silent fury. She was ready for this to be all just a nightmare. A nightmare where she wasn't here and her friends were still alive. Anything was better than having to face reality.
I miss him.
Who?
Him.
Bobby?
Fenton.
What? Why? Are you crazy? He's the one that almost hacked you. Why would you say you miss him?
Because..as much as I hate to admit, he is part of my life.
I don't follow.
He shaped me into who I am. I'm the way I am because of him. And if I had to do it over again, I'd still let all of those things happen.
She looked down at the floor, her eyes red and puffy, with even more tears running down her face. She bit her lip to keep herself from sobbing any further. The feeling numbed her, and she was ready to claw her way out and not face what just happened. The life she had seemed like a dream to her, and she was fighting to stay in it. She wanted to stay in her dream, where Fenton haunted every corner of her life. It was better than what was happening now.
I don't want this to be real.
What?
This.
What do you mean?
I wish this was all just a dream, for all of this to not be real. I don't want any of this.
You really are crazy.
Time passed her, and she would soon forget things she though she'd already forgotten. She didn't remember a lot of things, but her parents' murder was one of them. So was her brother's death. And now her friends. They were all dead. And she was the link to it.
It would be so much better to not face this.
What are you going to do?
What should have happened.
Donna searched her closet for a knife, or something that could suffice. She searched in her shoes, in a coat pocket, in a few cardboard boxes. She flipped through papers, seeing nothing but knickknacks long-forgotten, belonging to a time long passed. She stood up, and searched the shelf. She pulled out a box, crouched back down, and sifted through it. She found only papers, pens, pencils, erasers, stickers, a yo-yo, a box of bandaids. She rose to her feet and slid the box back on the shelf and pulled out the next one. She sat back down on her haunches and started searching through it. She found old toys in it: stuffed animals, dolls, miniature doll furniture, even an old princes tiara.
Her hand felt something. It felt squarish, so she pulled it out. It was a small box. She recognize it. It was an emergency sewing kit. She didn't have a knife, so a needle would have to do. She opened the box, and pulled out one of the thin needles.
"Donna?"
It was her aunt. She looked through the door shutters and at the needle she crouched down and pointed the needle to her wrist.
She's coming.
Better do it now before she finds out.
There was a knock at the door. Donna had to act fast.
I need to do this.
Do you doing think this will fix this?
I have to do this.
"Donna?"
She's getting antsy.
Donna poked her wrist with the needle. It didn't cut her yet, but she was close.
You don't know what you're doing.
I don't want to feel now what I didn't feel then. I thought Fenton dying would take away all that, but I lied. I like...feeling this. I like feeling like I'm the center of attention.
Of course, cause you love being the center of attention.
I'm bound to him and all that he is. He latched on to me, and I can't make him let go.
"Can I come in?"
Hurry before she finds you.
This had to be the way.
She shoved the needle her wrist. A squirt of blood trickled from the wound. She sat back, feeling her head not the wall, she gazed blankly at the lightbulb, not caring about the light's glare stinging her eyes. She felt lighter than air. Dizziness clamped into her cranium like a pair of jaws. Everything blurred together.
You know that you won't ever escape him even in death.
I don't care. I don't care, as long as nothing else happens to anyone. Everything that happened was because of me. I didn't do anything to stop him, and even if he was given the death penalty, he would've done anything to find me.
You say that as though you've done the same.
Because I have.
Donna heard the bedroom door open. She heard her aunt's footsteps tap on the floor.
"Donna?," she said.
She's going to find you.
No she won't. She won't find me if I'm already dead.
The blood streamed from the wounded wrist. Donna hung her head, eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, beholding the lightbulb's light cutting the dark away.
It doesn't matter that he was a stalker or not. I don't have anyone anymore. And don't say I'll find someone else. Bobby was the one, and I'll never get him back. I am bound to Fenton, and I can't get him out of my head. He haunts every corner of my mind. I escaped him once and survived. I escaped him again, and it didn't fix anything. I am only finishing what he started.
"Donna?"
This is the way.
She felt the heat rose off her body. She was becoming numb and the pain she felt was distant and faraway. Her eyes stared at the closet doors vacantly. Her aunt's silhouette stood before the doors.
I hate everything about Fenton. He took my innocence away. He stole my life. He destroyed my family. He ravaged my being to the core, and I only have a thread to hold on to. There's nowhere solid to grasp to. I know what the others think. That it's wrong. I don't want it to be right. He is the only thing I have that takes me back to my old life. To that time in my life where everything was fine. And I'll get to have that again.
The darkness loomed over just as the closet doors were opened and Aunt Karen's face twisted in shock. A hand clapped over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers.
Now it's over.
As she felt the last breath escape her mouth, she felt no regret. No sorrow. No fear. Just the unshakable peace.
And she liked it.
I'm proud of how this story turned out. ^_^ Not bad for my first fanfic for Prom Night. =) It's always nice to try something new.
Reviews are always appreciated. :3
