Hey guys. I really should try to update sooner, but night-time being the only time I can actually work on my stories, it gets kinda hard. :(
Listening to sad songs to get me in the right mood for this story. Lol, I'm such a sad-o.
Hope you guys like it. This story is actually kind of just based on my experiences with losing a sibling, and that's not quite so... how do I put it... detailed, I guess. I was kinda young when it happened, so I didn't really know what I should have been feeling. Sadness, yes. Depression... not so much.
Anyways, enjoy!
:)
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Suicide.
That's what the FBI had called it.
Plunged a knife straight through her chest. In her own bedroom, in broad daylight.
For any other person, this explanation would have been perfectly reasonable. After all, people committed suicide every day. Thousands died as a result of depression. It was all over the news these days. Murders, train tracks, hangings. It was nothing new.
And yet, for Sabrina, things just didn't add up.
Why would Daphne, of all people, end her life?
It was a question that hung on the edge of everyone's mind the past few days, but could never be spoken aloud. The possibilities were endless, but none seemed to fit the situation.
Was she unhappy?
No, that wasn't it. Daphne had always been a happy-go-lucky type of person. Her smile lit up the room as soon as she walked in, her personality and bubbly attitude had everyone forgetting about their problems as soon as she started talking.
Was she on drugs? An alcoholic?
It wasn't possible. She had never been near the stuff, and would never even touch a glass of wine, yet alone visit a bar.
Domestic abuse? Was that it?
As far as Sabrina knew, Daphne's relationship with Mustardseed had been perfect. A straight from the fairy tale happily ever after, she always used to say. The two had met again later on in their life, and had hit it off straight away. From friends, to a couple, to partners.
So what was the reason? What had led her to the most fatal decision of her life? What had influenced it, what made her decide that life was not worth living, that everything was better off if she disappeared?
What?
Questions upon questions made their way into Sabrina's mind. Possibilities and outcomes swirled around in her brain like internet links, one thing leading to another, and so on. Where one possibility opened up, dozens more opened up before it. Reasons, explanations, fears, all of them beat around in her head like a constant rhythm, until the only thing in her mind was the pounding beat of her heart, the steady and painful ache of her chest as she stumbled drunkenly into the bathroom, collapsing before the toilet bowl.
Her stomach clenched, and she could feel her throat tighten as she prepared to heave, but nothing came.
She hadn't eaten in days. Water and a few biscuits were her sustenance. Breakfast, lunch and diner long since forgotten, she had resulted to starving herself.
What was the use of eating, if her empty seat sat in front of her, an endless reminder of the precious being that once sat there, now lost?
What was the use of eating, if every meal brought back memories of the young woman as a girl, shoveling food into her mouth carelessly?
There was no use, Sabrina thought as she allowed her head to drop lifelessly against the bathroom wall, her legs stretched out straight in front of her. Her pajama shorts and sleeping tee had been her outfit for the past two days. Her hair was a mess, one tangled bun on the top of her head, drooping limply to one side.
She looked pathetic, and she felt it.
She knew what her family thought, but frankly, she didn't care. Who were they to tell her what to feel, what to do, when she had just lost one of the most important people in her life?
She remembered her parents face, the moment the had walked in on Sabrina, staring silently at Daphne's lifeless body laying on the bed, a dark patch of blood surrounding the protruding hilt of the dagger in her chest, one cold, white hand clutching it like a lifeline.
Veronica had shattered, fallen to her knees straight on the spot, and sobbed uncontrollably into her hands. She had sobbed, strange, animalistic sounds escaping her. Henry had stood, shocked at first, and had eventually collapsed against the wall, legs giving way beneath him as the shock of their discovery hit him full-force. He had shed tears then that no-one in that room had ever seen the likes of before.
But the one affected most by the discovery was Sabrina. She had been the one who had opened her little sister's door, expecting to see the young woman sitting at her desk, braiding her hair or writing in her journal, only to find a corpse on the other side. She had been the one who had screamed, and alerted the others.
Relda and Canis had run in soon after her parents, and Relda had soon followed Veronica's lead. Canis had simply walked out the room. Red had not been in the house at the time, and the tragic news of her best friend's death was soon given by Relda later on.
Basil had wailed, his body wracked with sobs. He had cried shamelessly, his heart grieving for the sister he had known for such a short amount of time, yet grown to love.
But the worst was Puck. Puck, who had walked in on the family's breakdown, and casually asked what was wrong. Puck, who had taken one look at Daphne's lifeless body and turned the same shade as his sweater. Puck, who, after flying out the house two seconds later, had not been seen since.
And it was this that had broken Sabrina. Puck had left, flown straight off, right when she needed him the most. Couldn't he see that she was suffering? Couldn't he see that she needed him, needed her best friend to be there for her in her time of need? Couldn't he see that she needed him, not anyone else? Him, who was the only one who truly understood her?
In all her nineteen years of life, Sabrina had never felt so helpless.
When the dizziness and throbbing had subsided, Sabrina got to her feet shakily. She looked at herself in the mirror, and nearly threw up.
Her hair was disgusting, stray strands of hair sticking up all over her head, and an unruly knot of hair on one side of her head. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, probably from all the sleeping in she had done lately. She looked like a zombie.
Pulling on a fresh pair of shorts and another sleeping tee, she brushed her hair until it was straight. She decided that leaving it out would appear too normal, and today was anything but normal, so she tied it in a messy bun.
She brushed her teeth and washed her face, and when she was done, she had to admit, she felt better.
Only on the outside, she thought. Only on the outside.
She finished washing up and opened the door, heading down the stairs. Her family were all siting around the dining table, cups of lukewarm coffee half finished in everyone's hands. Dark circles rimmed the eyes of the adults, and the younger ones looked no better.
It was obvious everyone was fairing the same way she was.
And instantly the tears built up again. The feeling in her stomach was back, and she felt sick.
Were they ever going to be able to be happy again? Was there anything to even be happy about?
Sabrina said a halfhearted good morning to her family and headed into the kitchen, pressing her palms flat against he edge of the counter and leaning over the sink as the sick feeling came back.
When it was over, she poured herself a cup of coffee, and was about to head into the living room for some alone time, when the bell rang.
...