Status: finished. <3 comments would be most welcome.
I Guess It Doesn't Matter.
end.
Over the past few days, that blank wall had become Pierre’s best friend. It stopped her from thinking, charging into her confused mind with its plain, white canvas. It was quiet, inside her head. Almost peaceful.
She blinked, and for once, no tears came forth. Her stomach complained at her, gurgling from her lack of food intake. She pressed her lips close together, afraid that if she looked away she would break again.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice, as her stomach growled loudly and painfully, she wretched and ran in to the kitchen. Pulling open the cupboards, the fridge, she searched for anything edible left. Once her eyes landed on a loaf of bread, she pulled open the bag and pushed a slice into her mouth, savouring the bland taste when she swallowed.
I’m a mess…
Once she finished eating, she threw the bag back into the cupboard and padded back to the living room, casting her sad eyes over her life ever since Luke had gone.
There was only one way of describing it – empty. Completely and utterly empty. Devoid of social life, or entertainment. Worthless.
Her hands clenched into tight fists. In truth, she was afraid of what was going to happen now. Without Luke, her income had decreased, and she didn’t have much of one to begin with. It was times like this she wished she was 5 again, with Garrett to sweep her off her feet and her mother to tell her bedtime stories.
Pierre had always wished she was a storybook princess, and so played princess games in her spare time. Garrett was her handsome prince, no argument, and they always ended up marrying under their tree, the same tree he was murdered under. As a kid, she had always dreamed of actually marrying him. Back then, it didn’t matter if they were siblings. She loved him.
“Pierre, breathe.”
She froze, doing the exact opposite of his voice. “G-Garrett…”
He walked over and she turned around to face him. He studied her pale, sunken face, still as beautiful to him as it was before the trauma. He reached up with his perished hands and caressed her cheek lovingly, shaking his head at her. “Oh, Pierre…”
The tears that had been threatening to spill over her lashes the past few days were finally let loose, and she ran into his outstretched arms, sobbing into his chest.
“You’re still a silly little girl,” he mused, stroking her hair.
She hiccupped a shaky laugh before sniffing again.
Garrett wished he could do something for her. But he was just a ghost. A cold, loving ghost. As he stared at the broken girl in his arms, he felt guilt. He knew her every thought and feeling – the result of some supernatural gift – and he saw how he had affected her. He had tainted her innocent mind, torn her apart, and the guilt was overwhelming. Why could he just move on to heaven? Or hell? Why couldn’t he just stop messing up his sisters life and go?
He already knew the answer to the questions that fluttered in his mind. Because he loved her.
“I want to join you, Garrett.”
He pushed her away from him, still holding onto her shoulders firmly, and looked into her eyes – the windows to her soul. She needn’t have spoken, but unknowing of his gift, carried on.
“I have nothing left on Earth. All I ever wanted was you…” she choked out, closing her eyes.
He stared at her, speechless. He wanted nothing more than her to join him. But he couldn’t let her kill herself. He didn’t want her to die so young. “No. I won’t… I can’t let you…”
She stared at him, a look of desperation and anger on her face. “Please, Garrett. I can’t live as a human anymore. It’s too painful.”
“No!” He growled at her, shaking her shoulders lightly. “You will not kill yourself!”
Pierre pulled away from him, glaring harshly. “I will, even if you don’t want me.”
“You know I want you more than anything, princess,” he said as she stormed into the kitchen. Curious, he followed her, stopping in her tracks as she pulled a small bottle of liquid out of the cupboard.
She removed the cork from the top and held it close to her lips, eyeing him silently.
“Where did you get that?” He asked her, staring daggers at the bottle clearly labelled ‘Cyanide’ in a neat cursive.
She smirked at him, blinking blankly a few times. “You’d be surprised at what my dealer supplies me.”
“D-Drugs…!? Pierre, tell me you haven’t,” he begged her, tears now falling down his face instead of hers.
With a soft smile of regret and watery eyes, she held the bottle to her pursed cherry lips and tipped it upside down.
She blinked, and for once, no tears came forth. Her stomach complained at her, gurgling from her lack of food intake. She pressed her lips close together, afraid that if she looked away she would break again.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice, as her stomach growled loudly and painfully, she wretched and ran in to the kitchen. Pulling open the cupboards, the fridge, she searched for anything edible left. Once her eyes landed on a loaf of bread, she pulled open the bag and pushed a slice into her mouth, savouring the bland taste when she swallowed.
I’m a mess…
Once she finished eating, she threw the bag back into the cupboard and padded back to the living room, casting her sad eyes over her life ever since Luke had gone.
There was only one way of describing it – empty. Completely and utterly empty. Devoid of social life, or entertainment. Worthless.
Her hands clenched into tight fists. In truth, she was afraid of what was going to happen now. Without Luke, her income had decreased, and she didn’t have much of one to begin with. It was times like this she wished she was 5 again, with Garrett to sweep her off her feet and her mother to tell her bedtime stories.
Pierre had always wished she was a storybook princess, and so played princess games in her spare time. Garrett was her handsome prince, no argument, and they always ended up marrying under their tree, the same tree he was murdered under. As a kid, she had always dreamed of actually marrying him. Back then, it didn’t matter if they were siblings. She loved him.
“Pierre, breathe.”
She froze, doing the exact opposite of his voice. “G-Garrett…”
He walked over and she turned around to face him. He studied her pale, sunken face, still as beautiful to him as it was before the trauma. He reached up with his perished hands and caressed her cheek lovingly, shaking his head at her. “Oh, Pierre…”
The tears that had been threatening to spill over her lashes the past few days were finally let loose, and she ran into his outstretched arms, sobbing into his chest.
“You’re still a silly little girl,” he mused, stroking her hair.
She hiccupped a shaky laugh before sniffing again.
Garrett wished he could do something for her. But he was just a ghost. A cold, loving ghost. As he stared at the broken girl in his arms, he felt guilt. He knew her every thought and feeling – the result of some supernatural gift – and he saw how he had affected her. He had tainted her innocent mind, torn her apart, and the guilt was overwhelming. Why could he just move on to heaven? Or hell? Why couldn’t he just stop messing up his sisters life and go?
He already knew the answer to the questions that fluttered in his mind. Because he loved her.
“I want to join you, Garrett.”
He pushed her away from him, still holding onto her shoulders firmly, and looked into her eyes – the windows to her soul. She needn’t have spoken, but unknowing of his gift, carried on.
“I have nothing left on Earth. All I ever wanted was you…” she choked out, closing her eyes.
He stared at her, speechless. He wanted nothing more than her to join him. But he couldn’t let her kill herself. He didn’t want her to die so young. “No. I won’t… I can’t let you…”
She stared at him, a look of desperation and anger on her face. “Please, Garrett. I can’t live as a human anymore. It’s too painful.”
“No!” He growled at her, shaking her shoulders lightly. “You will not kill yourself!”
Pierre pulled away from him, glaring harshly. “I will, even if you don’t want me.”
“You know I want you more than anything, princess,” he said as she stormed into the kitchen. Curious, he followed her, stopping in her tracks as she pulled a small bottle of liquid out of the cupboard.
She removed the cork from the top and held it close to her lips, eyeing him silently.
“Where did you get that?” He asked her, staring daggers at the bottle clearly labelled ‘Cyanide’ in a neat cursive.
She smirked at him, blinking blankly a few times. “You’d be surprised at what my dealer supplies me.”
“D-Drugs…!? Pierre, tell me you haven’t,” he begged her, tears now falling down his face instead of hers.
With a soft smile of regret and watery eyes, she held the bottle to her pursed cherry lips and tipped it upside down.