posted on 12-Oct-2002 11:48:08 PM by LixMix5
Title: Precious Tragedy
Author:Baby and LixMix
Category:M/L but kinda Liz centric
Email:lixmix_47⊕hotmail
Disclaimer:We own nothing. No joke! We're not even kidding you! Oh well one of us owns Nick. Read on and you'll understand. Maybe.
Summary:Liz has an intense past. She is forced to Roswell. Things suck.

This is our first fic. Give feedback. Good or bad. We dare you to.

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Prologue

"NO!!! You can't take him from me! Please! He's all I have!" I sobbed as I struggled against the men holding me back from from the one true thing that kept me going, that kept me alive.

The one person I truly loved, love still.

I could hear his frantic struggles and cries on the other side of the courtroom. Although they were having an easier time of holding him back, he was struggling more.

While I understood the dooming fate that was to meet us, his innocent mind only knew he was being forced away from the only person who loved him.

With that in mind I struggled harder, I needed to explain to him why. I needed to say goodbye.

I felt the power building in me and forced it down. I had to suppress the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume my mind. When I finally thought I had managed to tame it, he said the one word that broke my heart and cracked my soul, "MOMMY!"

The door slammed shut blocking him from my view. I could hear the smooth glass of the windows shatter but I could feel nothing.

I had nothing left to feel for, everything was gone.






[ edited 1 time(s), last at 12-Oct-2002 11:49:03 PM ]
posted on 13-Oct-2002 3:49:46 PM by LixMix5
We’re back!!! Thanks to jeremiah, roswellluver, A Rose Is True Blue, tyranese, McGees, Fehrbaby, Lizzie_Parker17, JBehrsGurl, Pixie, and SweetLilDreamer. You guys have no idea how much we appreciate your feedback. Please keep it up. And here’s the new part. We hope you like it.

Part One

Fear. Well not really fear. It’s something worse. It’s like anticipation, fear, and dread all in one mixed with a little bit of nausea.

That’s all I could feel as I ran for some sort of safety. This feeling doesn’t have a name. But it exists. My own footsteps and breathing sound loud but still can’t drown out the thundering of the punisher behind me.

What was the reason for it this time? I can’t even remember. I doubt he even does. Does it really matter?

This was the fastest that I could ever recall running. With motivation like “staying alive” you pretty much look like a bat out of hell to anyone watching. But nobody watched and if they did they didn’t do a damn thing about it.

I slid into the small space behind the dresser and huddled there in twisted anticipation, trying to hold my breath so that he wouldn’t find me. My efforts were futile because in the end he always found me. No matter how far ahead I thought I was, it seemed as though he was no more than a foot behind me.

He grabbed a hand full of my hair and used it to pull me up from my temporary sanctuary.

“ You stupid bitch! You good for nothing piece of shit!” He slaps me countless times in the face while tears spill from my eyes. “Don’t you ever talk back to me again, do you hear me?!”

“But I wasn’t talking back. I was answering your question!” I managed to get out between sobs and slaps.

“What did I just say!? Are you talking back again?”

“No!”

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of this bullshit! Where’s my belt.”

“Nooooooo!! Please don’t hit me again! I didn’t do anything!” It was useless, but I always tried. Hoping that he would realize that I hadn’t done anything wrong.

He pulled out his belt and wrapped half of it around his hand. “This should teach you to talk back to me.” He started delivering lash after painful lash on my legs and butt while keeping a strong grip on my arm.

“Ow! Stop! Stop! Please!” I cried but he kept lashing until he was tired.

Then he left me sitting on my bedroom floor sobbing uncontrollably and carefully trying not to touch the red welts that his belt made on my skin. He left with a final message.

“You see what I have to do to you to make you behave? That’s what you get for being such a fucking brat.” As if he didn’t enjoy it. Bastard.

This pain on my wrists is really uncomfortable. Damn handcuffs. Wait a minute. Handcuffs? What the hell?

“Kid. Kid! Wake up!” What? I am so confused right now. “Joe, wake her up.”

“Come on man. Just let her sleep.”

Yeah. Just let me sleep. Then again, if I go back to sleep, the nightmares to have a field day. Nevermind. I’m awake.

Oh great. Now I need to go pee.

“I need to go pee." Don’t look at me like that. I really do. "I can't go pee with handcuffs on." "you stupid idiot" look.

“Deal with it.” Asshole. What does he think I'm gonna do? Jump off the plane? Hijack it? They've already searched me three and a half million times. No matter how many times I try to tell them they won't belive me. You can't hijack a plane with your pant buttons!

Fine. Deal with this bi-atch!!! Yeah I’m giving you the finger. Maybe you can’t see it, but that's beside the point, it's the thought that counts.


So, I'm on a plane to Roswell, New Mexico. It's strange. The closer I get there, the more it smells like sizzling bacon. Hmm, wonder why? Oh right, must be because I'm stuck in the middle aisle between two "police" officers.

Wow, my luck just keeps getting better and better. First, everything I cherished was taken from me and now I get to go to the hottest fuckin' place in Middle America where I'm to spend my days 'til I'm 18 and have changed my unlawful ways. I'm so excited, can't you tell? I'm sorry, I just can't hide it.

You know, it sounds a little like this place I heard of once. What was it called again? Oh yeah. Hell.

I guess I should welcome you. Now you're lucky enough to be in the deranged microcosm that is my life. You're gonna have to go through it, just...like...me. But there's a difference, you have one chance-you can leave now. And believe me, this is a warning. I've lived through things that you won't forget, as much as you'll try. It will be burned into you and scar far deeper than flesh wounds ever could.

Last warning. Go.

No? You're staying? Fine, your funeral, I'll meet you there cuz' I've been long dead. Well, not everything's so bad, I still have my music. I would really die without my music.

Right now I'm listening to Nirvana-

I'm on a plane, I can't complain

Yeah, that's the stuff. Listening to Nirvana is like takin' a hit of your fav drug, not that I would know or anything. Perhaps that's why they called it Nirvana. I promised myself that if I ever was on a plane, I would listen to this song. So that's what I'm doing and no damn government official will take that away from me.

Eh, they've already taken everything else, I wouldn't put it beyond them to take the one simple yet crucially important pleasure I have left. Hey, but since you're still here why don’t you stick around and see what kind of shit I can get myself into.


[ edited 3 time(s), last at 14-Oct-2002 12:40:46 AM ]
posted on 14-Oct-2002 1:12:22 AM by LixMix5
Bump
posted on 18-Jan-2003 9:25:54 PM by LixMix5
Yup, because I'm a loser like that and I have to bump my own fic.*big*
posted on 18-Jan-2003 10:39:10 PM by LixMix5
Awww, Christina you are too sweet man, I mean, obviously a pathological liar, but a sweet one nonetheless. Too complicated, remember?*happy*