When Care Leaves
اثنان
brittanyClimbing from her seat, her eyes sweep the line up of cars in front of her. Registering the fact that all of them are present, a coil of cold, deep fear turns the inside of her stomach. For some reason, a feeling harsher than the normal dread that inhibits her takes over, shakes already trembling through her body.
brittanyOpening the door to the kitchen, she slides into the kitchen, eyes wearily looking around her in apprehension. No noises enter her ears, and this causes horror to rock through her body thinking, the calm before the storm.
brittany“Mistyque!” The rough voice of her father meets her ears within moments of walking around the kitchen, cringing inwardly at the even tone of his voice she creeps into the living room. She sees her father relaxed on the couch, his clothing choices a pair of loose jeans and a regular tee shirt, almost like any other dad other than the feral, manic look in his dark, dark brown eyes.
brittanyHer mother stands in the other doorway, dark blue eyes narrowing in on the scene, a smirk curling her lips as she waits the show to begin. Happy that she isn’t the one being abused, and only all the more happier to help in the participation of the abusing of the abused. “Come, Mistyque, come sit with me on the couch,” her father purrs, a gleam that terrifies her in his eyes as he lightly pats the seat next to him.
brittanyGulping, she creeps forward like a timid mouse, her fingers curling tightly into her shirt as she slowly sits down onto the cushion of the couch. “Good, now that we’re situated how about we discuss dreams.”
brittany“Dreams?” Her voice is soft with shock, her whole system having gone blank. Her mother is wide eyed as that was not what she was expecting from the event.
brittany“Yes, dreams, the things people aspire to be. Inspiration to live, to become something, dreams.”
brittanyDucking her head down, she begins thinking. What are her dreams? Does she even have any?
brittany “I’ve, uh, I’ve never given any thought to them,” she stutters almost silently, her eyes avoiding contact with her father’s since she’s so close to him now.
brittanyAn emotionless smile tweaks his lips, “Well, appease me, give me some things. Profession, for example.”
brittanyRunning through a list of her options, she stops on one. Make up artist. Something that she can do run a salon, visit with people . . A smile curves her lips as excitement begins blossoming in her eyes. Turning to her father, she answers, “A make up artist/hair stylist, I could run a salon and everything.”
brittany“Good, good,” he says, nodding his head before he turns to me the manic gleam in his eyes all the more pronounced. “It’s just too bad that you won’t ever succeed in your dreams.”
brittanyThe girl’s face is overcome with terror as his fist swings toward it, his fist coming into perfect contact with her cheek. Crying out, she fall to her knees in front of him. Bringing his knee up to meet her nose she feels it break inside her head, the blood gushing down her face. Her eyes stare at him, and his fist aims at her again, coming into contact with her skull as he stands up.
brittany“Get the fuck up,” he growls, pulling on her hair as his fist collides with her ribs. Tears streaming down her face as he breaks two at once, the snap resounding around the room, almost deafening to her. Coughing up blood she spits it out, staggering to her feet as she stares at him, knowing that by the look in his eyes this is her end.
brittanyFinding her voice she asks, “Did you do that just to watch the hope die?”
brittanyA smile, an actual genuine smile crosses his narrow face, “Yes, and I’m doing this to watch you die.”
brittanyScreaming her father’s foot comes into contact with her hips, knocking her to the ground. “Get the fuck up, you’re still breathing.”
brittanyLifting her head to stare at her father, all the hate that was kept inside of her streaming through her eyes as she locks with his. Involuntarily, his gut instinct tells him to take a step back, before he overcomes it, his rage at the look in her eyes overcoming him. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ have that look with me,” he growls, kicking her again and again, repeatedly in the sides any place his boots can touch.
brittanyStaggering to her feet she takes a few steps back before he shoves her into the table, her body splits the table in half, the glass shattering around her in millions of shards. The glistening from them as her blood soaking them, causes a tragically beautiful affect. The sunlight that filters through the skylight at the top landing perfectly on her beaten and broken body.
brittanybrittanybrittholding your head up
brittanybrittanybrittis hard when you just want
brittanybrittanybrittto stay on the ground
brittanybrittanybrittto stay on the ground
brittanyAnne’s eyes surveying the scene she does everything in her will power not to look at the broken and battered body of her daughter, the breathing coming in and out of her lungs in shallow, weak gasps. Her almost lifeless eyes stare out ahead of her as she doesn’t move, blinking only once per minute. Her eyes move a fraction over to stare at her mother, emotionless pits as she is drawn in. Sobs start from the pit of Anne’s stomach and work their way up.
brittany“My baby girl! What have I done to my baby girl? Charles, what have we become?” She shrieks, falling to her knees in front of the mistreated teen, smoothing back her bloodstained hair, she cooes to the child.
brittany“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” the just as mistreated mother chants, rocking back and forth as she kneels, too scared to touch her dying child. Shocked by his wife’s reaction, his eyes settle on the same body, and his crying wife. The shock of the scene brings him back to reality and he rushes to dial nine-one-one on his cell phone, leaving it open and waiting on the counter.
brittanyThe gargling at the back of her throat, she struggles to speak through it. “You’re not forgiven.” The malice clearly understood to the woman that kneels next to her even if she wasn’t talking through blood. Hysterical sobs wrack through her body, tears mingling with blood over the glass.
brittanyHer father’s voice in the background begins to fade as she loses consciousness, having said her final words she succumbs to the blackness, not expecting to wake up. Period.
brittanybrittanyso get it get it get it right
brittanybrittanyI'm not holding on to a thing here
brittanybrittanyget it get it get it right
brittanybrittanyI'm not holding on and I can say now
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanyWaking up in an unfamiliar room, dark chocolate brown eyes stare out from under dark eyelashes, a beeping coming from beside her the woman turns her head to the side. A heart monitor? Suddenly, flashbacks begin playing like a filmwheel behind her eyes. Noticing the flowers and things that clutter the windows, stuffed animals that have cluttered the floors. Notes and sentiments typed or written onto each. The door squeaks open.
brittany“Give it up, Anderson, she’s not going to come out of it anytime soon, it’s been three years since they were robbed and she’s been in a coma,” says another doctor to the newest guy to the profession, Sawyer Anderson. The kid has so much hope for this patient that it’s going to be heart wrenching to watch when she doesn’t pull through, thinks the other gray haired doctor, watching Sawyer creak the door open a little further.
Robbed?!
brittany “I’m giving her the benefit of a doubt, today just feels special,” Dr. Anderson says in return, hoping with all hopes that the woman can pull through. No one deserves to die at the tender age of twenty, no one. And a gut feeling tells this doctor that a robbery was not what took place.
brittanyFinally the doctor turns to the now twenty year old woman and the clipboard in his hand clatters to the floor. “You’re awake!” He exclaims, his eyes wide with happiness and satisfaction. He was right.
brittanyA smile cracks the woman’s face, her lips stretching awkwardly across her pretty features. She motions for something to drink, feeling the weakness of her muscles in her own arms. The doctor is astounded and takes out the food pump and oxygen, seemingly she’s stable enough to be on her own. She chugs down the water, her eyes always focused on his.
brittany“When will I be able to get out of here?”
brittanyBewildered, the man stares at the girl. “Well after a physical and everything, of course, we’ll notify your parents, I’d say a few days.”
brittany“Could you notify my parents on the last day? I have things I need to take care of without them.”
brittany“Uhm, of course, we can, miss,” the young doctor says, checking things off on his clipboard as he overlooks her. Smiling to himself as he finishes things up and exits the door of her room, notifying her that if she needed anything just to push the buzzer.
brittanyThe next day the same doctor visits the young woman on his break, his fascination with her unquenchable. After an hour or two of idle chit chat, he feels comfortable in her presence. Twiddling his thumbs, he stares at his lap, eyes glancing up and down from her and back. Her light musical laughter fills the room, “You have something on your mind, Sawyer, just spit it out.”
brittany“I was, uhm, wondering if you would tell me what really happened that night. To you.”
brittanyFace paling and eyes closing for a moment so that the whole event replays in front of her again, over and over again, like a never-ending movie on repeat. “I guess I could tell you, I’ll be telling the police the day I get out of here.”
brittanyAnd so the story commenced, her voice the only sound permeating the silence of the room. Sawyer has instinctively moved to her side, his arms wound around her shoulders as he supports her crying body. Trying to soothe her, she snuggles into his body, an automatic attraction flowing between the two. His sapphires eyes connect with hers as he soothes back the hair from her face and brushes just the softest of kisses across her cheekbone. She blushes and just leans into his embrace, steadying her breathing and her heartbeat - that is conveniently still connected to the machine - as it beats faster than normal. Chuckling, Sawyer, squeezes her a little, holding her as the tears completely dry.
brittany“Listen, Mistyque, when you get out of here, you can stay with me at my place until you can get back on your feet. Unless, of course, you just decide to stay,” he smirks at her, squeezing her tightly before climbing from the bed. “Well, I have to get back to work, I’ll come by this evening.”
brittanyGiggling as he leaves the room, Misty formulates her plan as to how she will handle the police station seeing as she has plenty of time to ponder her situation.
brittanyFinding Doctor Sawyer, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. “I’m leaving to the police station, I’ll be at your house later today.” Nodding his head, he smiles at her and wishes her luck, watching the brave girl that never gave up, walk out the door.
brittanyA young woman can be seen leaving the hospital her appearance only slightly haggard, but overall better from when she first arrived. Confidence in her steps and a swagger in her walk, she realizes that she has a purpose in life, a dream to be obtained and no one will ever, ever be able to stop her of that. Bruises, injuries, and cuts having healed up she heads to the nearest police station, a sick satisfaction twisting in her gut as to what she’s about to do.
brittany“How may I help you, ma’am?” The police worker in his forties asks, his eyes traveling over the young girl, and slight recognition settling there.
brittany“Yes, I have a very interesting story that might interest you, do you have the time?”
brittanyIntrigued, “Does this story involve a crime?”
brittany“Most definitely,” the woman says, nodding her head as she is led to a backroom following behind the man with the power and a notepad, ready to record whatever she has to say.
brittanyMeanwhile, Anne and Charles Liegers are met with an empty hospital room, the flowers neatly lined up somewhere far off, the stuffed animals piled orderly in the corner, the bed is made and unwrinkled. Sheer fear clutches their hearts as they approach the empty hopsital bed, a sheet of notebook paper decorates the center of it, elegant, neat scrawl matching their daughter’s before they put her in a coma meets their eyes.
brittanybrittanyBut I'll sell my soul for the dream you stole.
brittanyOpening the door to the kitchen, she slides into the kitchen, eyes wearily looking around her in apprehension. No noises enter her ears, and this causes horror to rock through her body thinking, the calm before the storm.
brittany“Mistyque!” The rough voice of her father meets her ears within moments of walking around the kitchen, cringing inwardly at the even tone of his voice she creeps into the living room. She sees her father relaxed on the couch, his clothing choices a pair of loose jeans and a regular tee shirt, almost like any other dad other than the feral, manic look in his dark, dark brown eyes.
brittanyHer mother stands in the other doorway, dark blue eyes narrowing in on the scene, a smirk curling her lips as she waits the show to begin. Happy that she isn’t the one being abused, and only all the more happier to help in the participation of the abusing of the abused. “Come, Mistyque, come sit with me on the couch,” her father purrs, a gleam that terrifies her in his eyes as he lightly pats the seat next to him.
brittanyGulping, she creeps forward like a timid mouse, her fingers curling tightly into her shirt as she slowly sits down onto the cushion of the couch. “Good, now that we’re situated how about we discuss dreams.”
brittany“Dreams?” Her voice is soft with shock, her whole system having gone blank. Her mother is wide eyed as that was not what she was expecting from the event.
brittany“Yes, dreams, the things people aspire to be. Inspiration to live, to become something, dreams.”
brittanyDucking her head down, she begins thinking. What are her dreams? Does she even have any?
brittany “I’ve, uh, I’ve never given any thought to them,” she stutters almost silently, her eyes avoiding contact with her father’s since she’s so close to him now.
brittanyAn emotionless smile tweaks his lips, “Well, appease me, give me some things. Profession, for example.”
brittanyRunning through a list of her options, she stops on one. Make up artist. Something that she can do run a salon, visit with people . . A smile curves her lips as excitement begins blossoming in her eyes. Turning to her father, she answers, “A make up artist/hair stylist, I could run a salon and everything.”
brittany“Good, good,” he says, nodding his head before he turns to me the manic gleam in his eyes all the more pronounced. “It’s just too bad that you won’t ever succeed in your dreams.”
brittanyThe girl’s face is overcome with terror as his fist swings toward it, his fist coming into perfect contact with her cheek. Crying out, she fall to her knees in front of him. Bringing his knee up to meet her nose she feels it break inside her head, the blood gushing down her face. Her eyes stare at him, and his fist aims at her again, coming into contact with her skull as he stands up.
brittany“Get the fuck up,” he growls, pulling on her hair as his fist collides with her ribs. Tears streaming down her face as he breaks two at once, the snap resounding around the room, almost deafening to her. Coughing up blood she spits it out, staggering to her feet as she stares at him, knowing that by the look in his eyes this is her end.
brittanyFinding her voice she asks, “Did you do that just to watch the hope die?”
brittanyA smile, an actual genuine smile crosses his narrow face, “Yes, and I’m doing this to watch you die.”
brittanyScreaming her father’s foot comes into contact with her hips, knocking her to the ground. “Get the fuck up, you’re still breathing.”
brittanyLifting her head to stare at her father, all the hate that was kept inside of her streaming through her eyes as she locks with his. Involuntarily, his gut instinct tells him to take a step back, before he overcomes it, his rage at the look in her eyes overcoming him. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ have that look with me,” he growls, kicking her again and again, repeatedly in the sides any place his boots can touch.
brittanyStaggering to her feet she takes a few steps back before he shoves her into the table, her body splits the table in half, the glass shattering around her in millions of shards. The glistening from them as her blood soaking them, causes a tragically beautiful affect. The sunlight that filters through the skylight at the top landing perfectly on her beaten and broken body.
brittanybrittanybrittholding your head up
brittanybrittanybrittis hard when you just want
brittanybrittanybrittto stay on the ground
brittanybrittanybrittto stay on the ground
brittanyAnne’s eyes surveying the scene she does everything in her will power not to look at the broken and battered body of her daughter, the breathing coming in and out of her lungs in shallow, weak gasps. Her almost lifeless eyes stare out ahead of her as she doesn’t move, blinking only once per minute. Her eyes move a fraction over to stare at her mother, emotionless pits as she is drawn in. Sobs start from the pit of Anne’s stomach and work their way up.
brittany“My baby girl! What have I done to my baby girl? Charles, what have we become?” She shrieks, falling to her knees in front of the mistreated teen, smoothing back her bloodstained hair, she cooes to the child.
brittany“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” the just as mistreated mother chants, rocking back and forth as she kneels, too scared to touch her dying child. Shocked by his wife’s reaction, his eyes settle on the same body, and his crying wife. The shock of the scene brings him back to reality and he rushes to dial nine-one-one on his cell phone, leaving it open and waiting on the counter.
brittanyThe gargling at the back of her throat, she struggles to speak through it. “You’re not forgiven.” The malice clearly understood to the woman that kneels next to her even if she wasn’t talking through blood. Hysterical sobs wrack through her body, tears mingling with blood over the glass.
brittanyHer father’s voice in the background begins to fade as she loses consciousness, having said her final words she succumbs to the blackness, not expecting to wake up. Period.
brittanybrittanyso get it get it get it right
brittanybrittanyI'm not holding on to a thing here
brittanybrittanyget it get it get it right
brittanybrittanyI'm not holding on and I can say now
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanybrittanybrittanybritt***
brittanyWaking up in an unfamiliar room, dark chocolate brown eyes stare out from under dark eyelashes, a beeping coming from beside her the woman turns her head to the side. A heart monitor? Suddenly, flashbacks begin playing like a filmwheel behind her eyes. Noticing the flowers and things that clutter the windows, stuffed animals that have cluttered the floors. Notes and sentiments typed or written onto each. The door squeaks open.
brittany“Give it up, Anderson, she’s not going to come out of it anytime soon, it’s been three years since they were robbed and she’s been in a coma,” says another doctor to the newest guy to the profession, Sawyer Anderson. The kid has so much hope for this patient that it’s going to be heart wrenching to watch when she doesn’t pull through, thinks the other gray haired doctor, watching Sawyer creak the door open a little further.
Robbed?!
brittany “I’m giving her the benefit of a doubt, today just feels special,” Dr. Anderson says in return, hoping with all hopes that the woman can pull through. No one deserves to die at the tender age of twenty, no one. And a gut feeling tells this doctor that a robbery was not what took place.
brittanyFinally the doctor turns to the now twenty year old woman and the clipboard in his hand clatters to the floor. “You’re awake!” He exclaims, his eyes wide with happiness and satisfaction. He was right.
brittanyA smile cracks the woman’s face, her lips stretching awkwardly across her pretty features. She motions for something to drink, feeling the weakness of her muscles in her own arms. The doctor is astounded and takes out the food pump and oxygen, seemingly she’s stable enough to be on her own. She chugs down the water, her eyes always focused on his.
brittany“When will I be able to get out of here?”
brittanyBewildered, the man stares at the girl. “Well after a physical and everything, of course, we’ll notify your parents, I’d say a few days.”
brittany“Could you notify my parents on the last day? I have things I need to take care of without them.”
brittany“Uhm, of course, we can, miss,” the young doctor says, checking things off on his clipboard as he overlooks her. Smiling to himself as he finishes things up and exits the door of her room, notifying her that if she needed anything just to push the buzzer.
brittanyThe next day the same doctor visits the young woman on his break, his fascination with her unquenchable. After an hour or two of idle chit chat, he feels comfortable in her presence. Twiddling his thumbs, he stares at his lap, eyes glancing up and down from her and back. Her light musical laughter fills the room, “You have something on your mind, Sawyer, just spit it out.”
brittany“I was, uhm, wondering if you would tell me what really happened that night. To you.”
brittanyFace paling and eyes closing for a moment so that the whole event replays in front of her again, over and over again, like a never-ending movie on repeat. “I guess I could tell you, I’ll be telling the police the day I get out of here.”
brittanyAnd so the story commenced, her voice the only sound permeating the silence of the room. Sawyer has instinctively moved to her side, his arms wound around her shoulders as he supports her crying body. Trying to soothe her, she snuggles into his body, an automatic attraction flowing between the two. His sapphires eyes connect with hers as he soothes back the hair from her face and brushes just the softest of kisses across her cheekbone. She blushes and just leans into his embrace, steadying her breathing and her heartbeat - that is conveniently still connected to the machine - as it beats faster than normal. Chuckling, Sawyer, squeezes her a little, holding her as the tears completely dry.
brittany“Listen, Mistyque, when you get out of here, you can stay with me at my place until you can get back on your feet. Unless, of course, you just decide to stay,” he smirks at her, squeezing her tightly before climbing from the bed. “Well, I have to get back to work, I’ll come by this evening.”
brittanyGiggling as he leaves the room, Misty formulates her plan as to how she will handle the police station seeing as she has plenty of time to ponder her situation.
brittanyFinding Doctor Sawyer, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. “I’m leaving to the police station, I’ll be at your house later today.” Nodding his head, he smiles at her and wishes her luck, watching the brave girl that never gave up, walk out the door.
brittanyA young woman can be seen leaving the hospital her appearance only slightly haggard, but overall better from when she first arrived. Confidence in her steps and a swagger in her walk, she realizes that she has a purpose in life, a dream to be obtained and no one will ever, ever be able to stop her of that. Bruises, injuries, and cuts having healed up she heads to the nearest police station, a sick satisfaction twisting in her gut as to what she’s about to do.
brittany“How may I help you, ma’am?” The police worker in his forties asks, his eyes traveling over the young girl, and slight recognition settling there.
brittany“Yes, I have a very interesting story that might interest you, do you have the time?”
brittanyIntrigued, “Does this story involve a crime?”
brittany“Most definitely,” the woman says, nodding her head as she is led to a backroom following behind the man with the power and a notepad, ready to record whatever she has to say.
brittanyMeanwhile, Anne and Charles Liegers are met with an empty hospital room, the flowers neatly lined up somewhere far off, the stuffed animals piled orderly in the corner, the bed is made and unwrinkled. Sheer fear clutches their hearts as they approach the empty hopsital bed, a sheet of notebook paper decorates the center of it, elegant, neat scrawl matching their daughter’s before they put her in a coma meets their eyes.
brittanybrittanyBut I'll sell my soul for the dream you stole.
