Heaven
Disclaimer: the characters of pacific blue are in fact not my own.
Warning: deals with death and suicide.
AN: sad one
Heaven
The little girl stroked the dead cat one last time. Then looked up to her father, tears still in her eyes.
"Where's he going now daddy?" she asked.
"He's going to cat heaven, sweetie. He will be happy there." Her father said solemnly.
"But he was happy here. I want him back here." She pouted. The cat had been there her whole life, why would he die just like that?
"One day you will go to heaven too, and then everyone you love will be there waiting for you, including Spinner." He said, having some trouble figuring out a way to comfort his little girl.
"But that'll take so long! Can't I just go to heaven now, daddy, and see him?" she asked, too innocent to know what she had just asked.
"No, everyone has to live their time here, and when their life is up they go to heaven. You shouldn't rush that."
"We have to burry Spinner, give him a nice grave." The young girl said.
"Yes Chris we do." He said.
====================
Who is to blame for death? Or is death a good thing and should it be celebrated? Where do you go when there is no life left for you to live? If you could have stopped a suicide but didn't, does that make you a murderer?
Chris looked down on her hands, refusing to listen, refusing to acknowledge what was being said. For the longest time she hadn't believed in heaven, not since she had been a little girl, but now...
"Chris did you hear me?" he asked. He looked worried.
"What? No, sorry, I have to go now." She stood up, she remembered something about a purse and coat but everything was so fuzzy. Suddenly he was there, he sat her down again.
"Chris, listen to me, TC has died." He practically spelled it out for her, yet she still refused to hear him.
"He took too many painkillers, he had been drinking..." He said, trying to avoid calling it suicide to her face.
Did this make her a murderer? Had she murdered the one she loved the most? Why had she left him? Why had he taken his own life?
She just wanted him here, by her side, holding her, telling her it wasn't true.
"He's in heaven now." Marcus said, being the counsellor of the training school the honour of telling her fell upon him.
"No. I want him back." She couldn't cry, she could hardly talk, her brain just refused to function. Nothing was right.
"I'm really sorry for your loss Chris. Do you want to talk about it?" he gently asked.
"Why?" she stammered, she was slowly rocking back and forth, clasping and unclasping her hands.
"There will be an investigation." Marcus answered, indicating he didn't know.
"But I love him!" She jumped up. Her knees buckled and she fell right down, hitting her head on the coffee table. She sunk away into blissful oblivion.
When she opened her eyes she noticed she was in her own room, the school's private doctor hovering over her.
"Good morning." The elderly man said.
She didn't answer, she was afraid to. Afraid that if she said it back for some reason TC really would be gone, that she would be wishing someone a good morning while TC was dead.
"Do you remember your name?" he then asked. Chris wished she couldn't. Wished she didn't know anything anymore, wished she didn't remember the reason why she had been pulled out of class that day, or was it yesterday?
"Chris." She answered, and then looked away from the doctor, willing him away.
How hypocrite would she seem if she just took an overdose also? Or shot herself? She left him. And now that he was dead she suddenly wanted to be with him? But she had always wanted to be with him! Life, what use was it when never again. . . Never. He was dead.
Unwillingly she had acknowledged it. He was dead. Dead. Death had taken him. His life was up, no more for him.
A pain burned through her, more real, more painful then her throbbing head. Tears, the many, many tears falling from her eyes couldn't quench that fire. Her very soul pulled away from her. Her soul was ripped away in an attempt to find it's mate.
She didn't remember crawling into a foetal position, she didn't remember shaking, but there on the bed she was. The doctor, she didn't see him. She didn't concern herself with him, the pain she felt could not be cured by him. She was having trouble breathing, but didn't care. She needed him!
Hysteria overtook her as she engulfed herself in feelings of pain and guilt. She would've gladly walked into a wall were it not that she couldn't even stand.
Can't I just go to heaven now, daddy, and see him?
You shouldn't rush that.
When did she ever listen to her father anyway?
=================
A cat jumping on her lap was the first thing she became aware of. She opened her eyes.
"Spinner!"
Disclaimer: the characters of pacific blue are in fact not my own.
Warning: deals with death and suicide.
AN: sad one
Heaven
The little girl stroked the dead cat one last time. Then looked up to her father, tears still in her eyes.
"Where's he going now daddy?" she asked.
"He's going to cat heaven, sweetie. He will be happy there." Her father said solemnly.
"But he was happy here. I want him back here." She pouted. The cat had been there her whole life, why would he die just like that?
"One day you will go to heaven too, and then everyone you love will be there waiting for you, including Spinner." He said, having some trouble figuring out a way to comfort his little girl.
"But that'll take so long! Can't I just go to heaven now, daddy, and see him?" she asked, too innocent to know what she had just asked.
"No, everyone has to live their time here, and when their life is up they go to heaven. You shouldn't rush that."
"We have to burry Spinner, give him a nice grave." The young girl said.
"Yes Chris we do." He said.
====================
Who is to blame for death? Or is death a good thing and should it be celebrated? Where do you go when there is no life left for you to live? If you could have stopped a suicide but didn't, does that make you a murderer?
Chris looked down on her hands, refusing to listen, refusing to acknowledge what was being said. For the longest time she hadn't believed in heaven, not since she had been a little girl, but now...
"Chris did you hear me?" he asked. He looked worried.
"What? No, sorry, I have to go now." She stood up, she remembered something about a purse and coat but everything was so fuzzy. Suddenly he was there, he sat her down again.
"Chris, listen to me, TC has died." He practically spelled it out for her, yet she still refused to hear him.
"He took too many painkillers, he had been drinking..." He said, trying to avoid calling it suicide to her face.
Did this make her a murderer? Had she murdered the one she loved the most? Why had she left him? Why had he taken his own life?
She just wanted him here, by her side, holding her, telling her it wasn't true.
"He's in heaven now." Marcus said, being the counsellor of the training school the honour of telling her fell upon him.
"No. I want him back." She couldn't cry, she could hardly talk, her brain just refused to function. Nothing was right.
"I'm really sorry for your loss Chris. Do you want to talk about it?" he gently asked.
"Why?" she stammered, she was slowly rocking back and forth, clasping and unclasping her hands.
"There will be an investigation." Marcus answered, indicating he didn't know.
"But I love him!" She jumped up. Her knees buckled and she fell right down, hitting her head on the coffee table. She sunk away into blissful oblivion.
When she opened her eyes she noticed she was in her own room, the school's private doctor hovering over her.
"Good morning." The elderly man said.
She didn't answer, she was afraid to. Afraid that if she said it back for some reason TC really would be gone, that she would be wishing someone a good morning while TC was dead.
"Do you remember your name?" he then asked. Chris wished she couldn't. Wished she didn't know anything anymore, wished she didn't remember the reason why she had been pulled out of class that day, or was it yesterday?
"Chris." She answered, and then looked away from the doctor, willing him away.
How hypocrite would she seem if she just took an overdose also? Or shot herself? She left him. And now that he was dead she suddenly wanted to be with him? But she had always wanted to be with him! Life, what use was it when never again. . . Never. He was dead.
Unwillingly she had acknowledged it. He was dead. Dead. Death had taken him. His life was up, no more for him.
A pain burned through her, more real, more painful then her throbbing head. Tears, the many, many tears falling from her eyes couldn't quench that fire. Her very soul pulled away from her. Her soul was ripped away in an attempt to find it's mate.
She didn't remember crawling into a foetal position, she didn't remember shaking, but there on the bed she was. The doctor, she didn't see him. She didn't concern herself with him, the pain she felt could not be cured by him. She was having trouble breathing, but didn't care. She needed him!
Hysteria overtook her as she engulfed herself in feelings of pain and guilt. She would've gladly walked into a wall were it not that she couldn't even stand.
Can't I just go to heaven now, daddy, and see him?
You shouldn't rush that.
When did she ever listen to her father anyway?
=================
A cat jumping on her lap was the first thing she became aware of. She opened her eyes.
"Spinner!"