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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 10, 2008 21:48:46 GMT
I sit exactly where and how I did the night that Andra died - in the windowsill, looking out. But tonight, I feel peaceful rather than shredded, and the drop doesn't look so inviting. It's still a little bit inviting, of course… I always have been a coward. But not so much that I would break the silent promise to my friends, the one they don't even know about because it would just worry them if I announced it.
I lean my head back against the wall, crossing my arms against the mild cold.
Okay... so maybe I'm not that calm. Or not for all the right reasons. Maybe just a little bit might sort of be depression... ish. But mostly I'm all right.
I laugh at that, not really amused. Yeah, mostly I'm all right. Just... very confused about the whole weird thing with Riley that is just all in my head... and missing Logan more than I would like to just because I haven't seen him in a while, when really I should never ever want to see him again. Oh... and I guess that you could say I'm kind of wishing... wishing that I didn't have to lie anymore.
At this thought I feel sick again, closing my eyes tight against the tears. I wish I could continue to be in denial, but this is a pretty monumental thing to try and ignore. Sometimes I still can, of course... sometimes even for a few days at a time. But then the fear and guilt will all creep in again... and the drop looks more inviting.
I look around the room to make sure that I'm alone - stupid, of course; I know perfectly well that I am - and then roll up my sleeve, shoving my whole face into the fact that I'm a failure... and a liar and a hypocrite and really I should just give in and drop because the world would be better off without me.
But a part of me still balks at that - for every resounding ‘yes’ there’s still a whispered ‘no,’ and vice-versa. And so I stay where I am, wallowing in misery… not even able to cry so much as just release some tears.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here when I hear the sudden footsteps and the click of someone opening the door. All I know is panic, as I rush to pull my sleeve down and wind up throwing myself off-balance, nearly tipping myself out the window. Reflexively I keep myself from falling, but the sleeve is still half up… and the door is nearly open. So I clap my right hand over my left arm, surreptitiously tugging the sleeve down little by little while trying to slow my heart rate and hoping that I don’t look too odd sitting here in the windowsill, eyes wide and arms in strange positions to cover the hideous Mark.
((Please do not answer unless you know Arden really, really well.))
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 11, 2008 18:53:11 GMT
I hesitate in the doorway, watching Arden uncertainly in the window ledge. She has the 'deer in the headlights' look, like I've just caught her out which is unnerving. Especially for someone sitting in a window so high up.
My stomach turns unpleasantly and I'm uncomfortably aware that the window right next to the one she's sitting in is the one that I watched Erin fall and hit the ground from, but I force the thought from my head.
My eyes flicker over to her arm, which she's trying desperately to hide, then back up to her face. Her eyes wide and panic-stricken.
"Arden?"
The question is obselete as I know exactly who she is and she would know that I obviously do. But I can't think of anything else to say as 'Are you alright?' seems like even more of a stupid question.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 11, 2008 19:57:31 GMT
"Fine," I squeak out quickly, not even fully aware that I'm speaking. Then I register a few things - that the person who came up here is Ian, that he did not, in fact, ask the question that I gave my automatic answer to, and that regardless of whether he did or not, the answer is a little bit self-contradictory.
I shake my head, closing my eyes briefly and swiftly tugging my sleeve down the rest of the way.
Real smooth, Arden.
"Um... I mean... hi," I say, eyes still closed but sounding normal, hoping that I can pass for someone merely interrupted while daydreaming and therefore a little bit out of it. "How are you?"
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 11, 2008 22:10:54 GMT
My eyes fall and stay drawn to her sleeve, which she's just rolled down. I know I'm being less than tactful and extremely obvious but as I reply I don't remove my eyes from her arm to look at her face again. Because it'll tell me what I already know.
"Fine," I reply slowly, acknowledging that I've been asked a question.
I fall silent again, then say finally, "How are you?"
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 11, 2008 22:16:55 GMT
When I do finally open my eyes I notice him looking at my arm, and quickly look away - stupid, of course, since he can't see where I'm looking anyway. But I lower my head anyway, out of shame.
Please don't guess, please don't guess....
"I'm... fine," I say belatedly, maybe a few too many seconds after he asked. Then I sigh, wanting to ask my usual, 'how are you really?' but afraid that he might ask it in return, and for once I really don't want to answer.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 11, 2008 22:26:46 GMT
"No, you're not."
I don't mean to say it, I meant to think it, honestly. I just seemed to lose control of my voice box temporarily.
As soon as the words have left my mouth I cringe, making a jerking movement with one hand as if to cover my mouth but deciding against it.
I try to think of some sort of apology or at least an elaboration to the remark, but none come to mind so I just remain silent, still inwardly flinching at my lack of tact.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 11, 2008 22:30:47 GMT
I raise my eyebrows in surprise, not bothered in the least and wondering why he looks like he'd like to swallow back the remark. A few replies come to mind, but I settle on, "That's observant of you." I shrug slightly. Just as long as you don't guess.... Just as long as no one knows.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 11, 2008 22:42:40 GMT
"Unusually so," I agree with forced lightness to my tone.
I don't want to press it, but I can't take my eyes of her arm. I don't want to know, but I honestly, I already have an idea.
I don't want to say it, as I can't imagine the offense it would cause if I'm wrong.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 11, 2008 22:48:49 GMT
I nod, biting my lip as I notice that he's still looking at my arm.
Please don't guess....
But I really hate lying.
You'd prefer that people know that you're a worthless coward?
"Have a problem?" I ask stiffly, shifting my arms so that even if the Dark Mark were visible, now it would not be. There's a slight note of panic in my voice but I hope he doesn't notice... it's hard to entirely repress the almost lightheaded terror when I remember what I've gotten into.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 11, 2008 23:06:54 GMT
"Yes," I nod, "A big one."
I tear my eyes away from her arm to glance back up at her face.
The panic in her voice is evident or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm imaging the hysteria in her face. Or maybe I'm not.
"What have you done Arden?"
The question sounds accusatory and there's not much I can do to avoid that.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 11, 2008 23:14:08 GMT
I bite my lip harder now, as if maybe everything else will feel better if that hurts, or maybe as if I can wake myself up from this bad dream. I feel like I've let him down somehow... maybe like I've let down everyone. And maybe if I bite my lip hard enough I can get rid of these stupid tears in my eyes that I don't deserve to cry.
"I fucked up," I say finally, quietly, still clutching my arm and looking at the ground. "I fucked up really, really badly." I consider rolling up my sleeve to show him but then figure he already knows, and I'm not sure I can stand that sick feeling again, that I get whenever I see it. Or, apparently, think about it, I realize, swallowing hard.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 12:06:10 GMT
I take a few hesitant steps forward, wincing mentally with every step, until I'm right in front of her.
I don't want to see it, I don't think I do at least. But I won't believe it until I do.
It's stupid because I know, I know, that Arden would not be that stupid.
But I put my hand lightly on her left arm, "Can I...?"
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 15:56:16 GMT
I have to find a new place to bite my lip before I actually tear it clean in half, but I nod anyway, hesitantly, staring down at my knees while I slowly push my sleeve up, not wanting to see his reaction and not wanting to think.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 21:36:02 GMT
"Why would you do that?" I ask quietly.
I stay still and think about this a moment, then throw her arm down again disgustedly, as unexpected anger courses through me.
I slam my fist into the wall frustratedly, "Fuck, why the fuck would you do that!? What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 21:44:35 GMT
I close my eyes, flinching slightly, then yanking the sleeve down again and wrapping my arms around my knees, still sitting sideways in the window.
"I don't know," I say quietly, so quietly I'm not sure he can hear. "I don't know what I was thinking," I add a little louder. "Logan... talked me into it." Shame bubbles up again and I shake my head disgustedly, hating myself for blaming him - I knew what I was getting into. Or I should have.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 22:00:29 GMT
"Then why the fuck did you listen to anything he has to say? He's a fucking liar!" I roar.
Calm down, calm down...you're being irrational...and you're going to lose control.
I don't care.
"How-...why-..." I can't seem to get past these two words, so I have to pause and grit my teeth for a moment before I can calm down just enough to speak but there's nothing to say.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 22:06:08 GMT
"I don't know," I all-but-shout back, opening my eyes and looking at him for once. "I don't remember what I was thinking and I know that's no excuse. I... I don't know."
I shake my head, dropping my eyes again. "It was Logan and Fitzy and I don't know what they told me... why I'd ever listen.... I don't know."
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 22:16:14 GMT
"So what? You're going to kill people? You're going to fucking torture are you Arden?" I growl, "Would you kill me if you were ordered to? Logan? Would you kill him?"
You really need to calm down and stop taking this so personally.
"You have fucked up. You'll be fucking lucky if you even live to regret this."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 22:25:26 GMT
I look out the window again, wishing it felt more inviting, because intellectually I know it really ought to and would probably be better for everyone involved. But even with his words, voicing the same thoughts I've been having anytime I've let myself think about this, I still can't make myself want it.
"Believe me, I already have," I say tightly in response to the last bit. "If I had a fucking clue what was going through my head...." I shake my head. I would really like to go back and kill myself before I make this mistake.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 22:35:33 GMT
"Well, hey you know, maybe you'll understand the high suicide rate amongst the ranks now," I run a hand through my hair, tangling my fingers near the back with frustration.
"I cannot fucking believe this. This is wrong."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 22:42:05 GMT
I nod, staring at my knees again. Tell me about it. I still haven't got past the denial stage.
"I'm... sorry," I say after a moment, shrugging.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 22:45:36 GMT
"It's not my life you've fucked up."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 22:47:43 GMT
I laugh humorlessly. "I know. I just... I don't know. I'm sorry. I feel like I should apologize."
I feel like I disappointed you. Like I disappointed everyone I know, except the rest of them don't know it. And yeah, I'll agree with you there... I am really fucked.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 23:01:31 GMT
"Arden why would you do it? What on earth did he say to you to make you do that?" I sound weary now, because all the anger's gone in the face of her apology.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 23:07:25 GMT
I shake my head, feeling deflated and just as weary as he sounds. I struggle to remember just a bit of it, knowing that it makes little sense to have forgotten. "I don't know... he said.... Fitzy said that he had orders to kill me, unless I wasn't a blood traitor anymore." I frown slightly, having difficulty imagining the two of them in the same room, and wondering if my memories of two separate conversations have blended. "... And... Logan talked me into it. I don't know. Why the fuck I didn't take the second option... I don't know. Too much of a coward."
And you thought it'd kill your friends, something reminds me. I laugh bitterly. 'Cause this is so much better.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 23:18:23 GMT
"Oh fuck, oh...fuck. Fuck," I mumble, pressing my palms into my temples as a band of pressure tightens around my head resulting in a near immediate migraine.
Fitzy spoke to you.
A rush of guilt washes through me. There's a triumphant smirking voice in the back of my head, already pinning blame on myself as well because I should have done something...anything...rather than let someone else make the same mistake as I did.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 23:22:47 GMT
I look at him oddly, frowning a bit in confusion as I try to make sense of that response.
"Ian... do you know something I don't?" I ask slowly, half-wondering if I'm being silly.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 23:47:29 GMT
"No," I answer too quickly, "Just...no, I-...this is fucked."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 12, 2008 23:49:26 GMT
I frown a bit more, biting my lip again as I toss out different replies.
"That was believable," I finally mutter, on the verge of feeling hurt/betrayed/angry if it turns out I should be.
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Post by Ian Hunt on Jan 12, 2008 23:55:39 GMT
"Ha," I laugh humourlessly, bitterly, and my voice sounds unnaturally loud and strained as if I've forced it out, "Yes, well get used to lies Arden. There's going to be a lot of them."
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