|posted on 22-Oct-2002 6:20:41 PM|
Author: Unknown_Star (supergirl.1⊕web.de)
Category: Liz’ POV
Disclaimer: Do you see Jason Behr sitting on my bed as my sex-slave? No? Well, that means I really own nothing of Roswell …
Short-Cut: Liz looks at the pieces the last months have left.
Author’s Note: I’ve changed „Departure“ a little bit: Max and Tess headed to Antar and Liz never found out what really happened to Alex. The lyrics are out of „A Whisper“ from Coldplay.
Get up, go to school, eat, work, do homework, go to bed. I rarely do something else. Why? The question is: Why should I do something else at all? What have I left?
Everything I ever had or hoped to have died in that night in the end of October. Max – Future-Max – however, came to my window and destroyed my perfect, little life within nanoseconds. Certainly, he wasn’t aware of the extents of his actions. If so I curse him. Even more than his original.
But he couldn’t be aware of it. How could he forbid me a life with my Max? For him, it was easy to come back and demand it from me. After all, he had already lived that life that I so desperately wanted.
It was so incredibly easy for him. The only thing I had left after he disappeared right in front of my eyes were memories and unfulfilled dreams.
Memories. That’s pretty much the only thing that I have left now as well.
There are the feelings of guilt, too. It is hard to make it through the day if you’re tortured by endless “What if”-games.
What if Max had had more confidence in us? Would he have discovered this great lie? Would we be together now? Would he have stayed here?
At some time or other, these games lose their charm. But usually not till I threw up again.
For one feeling of guilt can never go: Alex. If I hadn’t changed the future, he would be still alive. He would have danced on my wedding. Would certainly have got a great school-leaving certificate. Wouldn’t have been able to rescue himself from scholarships.
But now he’s dead. And everything is my fault. I would give everything to be able to trade places with him. I would travel back in time and prevent Max from being in the Crashdown on September 19th 1999. It wouldn’t matter to me.
But that all isn’t going to work without the Granolith. And it is gone, too. Burst outer space with Max, Tess an their unborn child on board.
God – How could he do this to me? I can’t comprehend it up to now.
The official version is that Max and Tess wanted to elope and died at that in a fatal car accident.
There was a funeral. A double-funeral to be exact. In two side-by-side lying graves. There’s only the common headstone missing.
The people threw odd looks at me, when I didn’t cry at the funeral. Liz, the jealous ex, can’t let it rest even now.
But it is hard to grieve, if you know, that the person you should be grieving for still lives. Not only that, but that he lives with her.
I don’t even want to know what he’s doing with her right now. I’m sick just at the very thought of it. And again a reason, why I throw up.
If he would have ripped my heart out of me and tore it in 1000 pieces, he couldn’t have hurt me more.
Somewhere in the depths of my heart, I was always hoping that I would get back together with Max. I mean, I knew it was wrong and that the survival of the whole world depends on if we’re apart from each other, but nevertheless. I always believed he wouldn’t give up the fight.
I think I have overestimate him in the end. Not he got me up on this pedestal. Oh no. I did it. I did always speak well of him. Always defended him. Even if I didn’t do it aloud, I had always an explanation for his actions in my mind. But after all, I couldn’t betray myself anymore.
At our Goodbye, I seemed to be in a bad movie. He was the soldier, who’s going into a war, uncertain if he would ever come back, and I was the farmer-girl, who should dumb-faithfully wait for him. Only that I shouldn’t dumb-faithfully wait for him and it was certain that he would never come back. We certainly don’t get a trashy reunion-scene at the end where he’s going to ask me if I want to marry him. Not that he – or I – want this. At least not anymore.
I should fraternise with Isabel. She is the only one who could approximately understand me. But every time I get close to her or the others I’m reminded of it all being my fault. So I don’t get close to them.
Not, that they would notice. Besides, Maria is too busy worshipping Michael and vice versa. And there’s already another reason, why I can’t stand the proximity of them. Everything, but no happy love couples. That reminds me too much of what I’ve lost – and are never going to find again.
Every day, when I vanish into my room after work or school my parents look more worried. They think I wouldn’t get over Max’s death. I would finally have to let him go. He wouldn’t fall into oblivion because of this. If they would only know how much I want he would do exact this.
They even wanted to send me to an psychologist. Sure, that would really make it. I can already imagine a meeting by such a fool.
“Well, Liz – I may call you Liz, right? – tell me, what’s going on. The death of your friends burdens you much, right? That was a tragedy. 3 human beings within short time … No one blames you, if you don’t feel well after that.”
“You know, Doctor, only one person really died and that would be my best friend since childhood. He’s actually been murdered. The other two flew with their unborn son to their home-planet. Their son couldn’t survive in this atmosphere. Oh, haven’t I mentioned that? The two of them are Aliens, part of the Royal Four. The other two are still on earth.
And the death of my friend is my fault. You know, normally he would have had many happy years in his future. But last autumn, this future-version of my ex-boyfriend – for the rest father of the child that can’t survive here – came to me and said either I help him fall out of love with me or the earth would be destroyed. But who don’t know this kind of situation?”
I think before I could count three I would already be in the psychiatric hospital in Albuquerque. Though if I take a closer look at this … that could be really relaxing. They would certainly give me so many psycho-pharmacological drugs and sedatives until I would only vegetate to myself. At least that would steal me the thoughts.
I’m breaking. More and more every day. But not just since today, but since last autumn. The funny thing is that no one notices. Though I think that they’re only too busy to look. No one wants to have something to do with little, crazy Lizzie Parker anymore. I can’t really take it amiss of them.
After all, my life is something I have to find my own solution for.
I think I have to life with it … or not.
After all, it’s funny. They say history always repeats itself. And I think it’s time that my history repeats itself as well. Only this time, it won’t let itself be influenced. Not fail like the last time it should extinguish everything.
Max never asked if he should save my life. He simply did it and that even out of more or less selfish motives. What I’m doing now is only the right thing. The last step an the best.
I know that the shot is going to echo through the whole house and perhaps even through the neighbourhood, but it doesn’t matter to me. My parents left their child they would rather give into psychological maintenance alone at home and even before anyone can call the police everything is going to be over.
So I go down to the Crash. To the place where it shouldn’t have started in the first place. The place where my life should have blooded out of me.
I think a way too many people overestimate a second life. But I have experiences from first hand. Experiences I wouldn’t wish my greatest enemy.
The 45er is lying cold in my hand. I let it slowly travel up the turquoise-blue uniform to the pernicious place where an Alien placed his hands years ago. It shall end like it began. Maybe this way, I can forget something of the time between the day then and now.
My hands are holding the gun firmly, as my thumb’s slowly pressing down the trigger. I have no fear. There’s nothing left what ties me to this world. Only never-ending pain. But in the next world, grandma Claudia is waiting for me. And Alex. I’m just hoping that he can forgive me.
I can still well remember the pain at the first time. How it seemed to tear me up inside and then pressed into a smaller and smaller getting corner of my being as the life slowly drifted out of me. But this time, it’s a release and the tears on my cheeks are more of relieve than pain.
I’m sinking to the floor and feel the life slowly retreating out of me. A little bit too slowly for my taste, but still steady. With every breath I take a little bit more. Every one becomes heavier, the pause longer, the sound more rattling. And I listen to my breathing, how it’s ticking me the last seconds of my life away.
I hear the sound
The ticking of clocks
Come back and look for me, look for me
When I am lost
Just a whisper, a whisper, a whisper, a whisper
Just a whisper, a whisper, a whisper, a whisper
I’m going to die and I know it. But it’s precise this thought that’s letting me die in security and peace. Slowly, I let my eye-lids sink down one last time and am feeling, how a smile is settling on my lips for the first time in months.