|posted on 23-Aug-2002 3:46:35 PM|
|Title: Life You Waste|
Rating: R (for mention of rape)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Roswell, so don’t sue me. I also don’t own the song ‘Waste’ by Staind.
Summary: Liz holds a terrible secret and is afraid to let anyone in. Michael is secretly in love with Liz. One day he discovers her secret…but is he too late to help her?
Note: Lightly based on the song ‘Waste’ by Staind. The title of this fic is taken from a line in the song. This fic is told from the POVs of Michael and Liz.
It’s happening again. I can’t stop it. God, I do want to stop it. But I can’t. I’m powerless against this force. This force that holds me down, this force that won’t let me up. This force that holds me down as I cry and cringe and try my hardest to pretend this isn’t happening.
THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING TO ME.
I’m a straight A student. I live in a nice, small community that is very alien-themed, but nice. My family owns the most popular café in town. I’ve always had an open relationship with my parents. I always felt like I could talk to them about anything.
But I can’t talk to them about everything anymore. I can’t tell my mother about this force that has control over me. I can’t stand to know how much it would hurt her if I told her. If I told her the single biggest secret I hold.
And of course I can’t talk to my father. That would be completely pointless. In fact, that could drastically worsen everything and send my life tail spinning out of the control that I am barely holding onto.
Because my father…he’s the force. He’s the force that controls me, that is destroying my life.
My name is Liz Parker and my father rapes me.
Maria needs to just get over herself. We don’t belong together. We never have and we never will, end of story. But this is real life, and the story never ends…
She seems to have this idea lodged in her thick head that she, and she alone, is the only girl that could ever be with me. Because God forbid her little ‘Spaceboy’ (and don’t even get me started on how much I hate that nickname) could ever meet and fall in love with someone else!
Maria and I have never even gone out! How does she think she can claim me as hers? Does she think I’m a cow and she can just put a brand on my forehead that says, ‘Property of Maria DeLuca’?
If only she knew who I would choose over her any day. She’d probably kill me…or the other girl. Especially considering that this other girl is Maria’s best friend and Maria has made it very clear to all of her friends that if they touch me, they die.
I like Liz Parker. Nope, take that back. I love Liz Parker. And heaven help me, and Liz, if Maria ever finds out.
It’s over, for now. He’s left for work and my mother still sleeps, oblivious to the horror that occurs at least once a week in her home.
Slowly, moving as if underwater, I raise myself off my bed, wrapping a sheet around me. I stumble to my closet and pull out my baggiest jeans.
I’m always sore after my father finishes with me and I can’t wear tight jeans.
I pull on my panties and bra and then struggle to get into my pants without causing myself pain. Guess today isn’t my lucky day…
I wince as a shooting pain twists its way through my lower abdomen.
He’s always so rough. He’s always hurting me. He likes to hurt me. He likes it a lot.
I pull on a tee shirt and a large sweatshirt. I quickly throw my hair into a messy ponytail and apply some mascara and lip-gloss, noting for once that I don’t have a black eye or cuts or scrapes. At least I won’t get stared at too much today.
I grab my backpack and head out the door to Maria’s waiting car. So begins my daily charade that everything is fine in my life.
If only people knew the truth.
Nothing is fine. Not any more.
[ edited 9 time(s), last at 31-Aug-2002 7:20:34 PM ]
|posted on 24-Aug-2002 4:37:56 PM|
|shelbecat - Lol, yes, it is amazing I lasted this long...I've wanted to start posting this fic since I wrote it like 3 or 4 months ago...And yes, you will be recieving complaints during the school year, lol...|
Alexandra86 - Thanks hun!
Audio Poet - Thanks to you too!
Why is it that all of the people who deserve it can’t ever seem to find love? I guess what I’m trying to ask is why can’t Liz find love? Why can’t she love me?
I’m selfish, I know. I don’t want her to love anyone else; I want her to be mine. That’s just the way I feel and I can’t change that.
I’m standing at my locker before my first class of the day. Isabel is standing next to me, babbling on and on about how her date with Alex went on Friday night. I’m paying no attention to her. Like I really care to hear about them making out in the movie theater.
I’m looking at Liz. Ok, I’ll admit, I’m not just looking. I’m staring. She’s just so…beautiful. She’s mysteriously beautiful. And yet, lately, something about her has been different.
She used to have this light in her eyes. Like she really loved life. She always looked happy, she was always smiling and laughing, joking around with the rest of our group when we’d hang out at the Crashdown.
But that light has slowly been dimming over the past two months. I try to stay away from Maria as much as possible, but every time I do find myself with her all she does is tell me how she’s worried about Liz, about how Liz isn’t very happy anymore. Sure, she can act happy, but Maria says she can see right through the act. Maria tells me that she’s caught Liz crying on countless occasions, but that Liz won’t tell her what’s wrong. In fact, Liz has been denying that anything is wrong at all, just trying to make up stupid excuses.
“Michael?! Have you heard one word I just said?” asks Isabel loudly, breaking me out of my thoughts of Liz. I reluctantly look away from Liz, who is nodding and smiling weakly at a joke that Alex is telling her and Maria.
“Sorry, Iz, this isn’t the best time,” I mumble.
She huffs angrily. “It’s never the best time for you. All you ever do is stare at Liz. You know, if Maria found out how much you like Liz, she’d rip out your eyes and she’d probably do something just as horrible to Liz.”
“I don’t like Liz,” I say, as if the entire idea of liking her were the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.
“Sure,” said Isabel. “Whatever you say. Just watch out for Maria.”
Isabel walks off to leave me wondering if anyone else has noticed the way I’m always looking at Liz. Is it that obvious how I feel about her?
I wish they’d leave me alone. They mean well, they really do, but it just gets annoying after a while. Maria is somehow always catching me while I’m crying. She knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t know what.
I want to tell her. But she’d report my father. And as fucked up as this may sound, no matter what my father does to me, he’s still my father. I can’t be responsible for sending him to prison.
And so I lie to Maria. I tell her I’m just upset because I failed a test, I’m having a bad day, I have a headache and I have cramps. The list goes on. And she accepts my answers, but I know that the day is approaching when she will refuse to accept my answer and she will demand the truth from me. I don’t want that day to come.
And Alex. He can tell there’s something wrong too. He’s always trying to tell jokes to make me smile. I love Alex, I really do. But his jokes just aren’t funny anymore. Nothing is funny anymore.
I finally tell them I have to go or I’ll be late for class. I walk down the hall and I can swear I feel eyes following me. I turn back, but I can see Maria scrounging around for something in her locker, while Alex and Isabel smile and whisper endearments to each other.
And then I see Michael. He’s just looking at me, studying me. Why is Michael looking at me? We aren’t even that close of friends. It’s kind of creepy. But in a way…it’s not. He looks sad, like me, but Michael always looks sad or pissed off or both at the same time. But there is just something about the way he’s looking at me now that says he’s not sad. He’s not pissed off. He’s heartbroken and confused.
I turn around and continue walking. After all, it’s none of my business what Michael’s going through.
I just wonder why he keeps looking at me.
**Edited to fix font. It was a bit small, wasn't it? Sorry...I just thought it looked cool, lol!
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 25-Aug-2002 11:41:19 AM ]
|posted on 25-Aug-2002 4:19:08 PM|
|QueenBee05 - I fixed the font size for you! Thanks for the feedback.|
My day continues like any other. Except that I keep noticing Michael looking at me. He won’t stop, even when I look back. And the thing is, even a week ago; I probably would have been freaked out by Michael’s behavior. But now…I’m just intrigued. And…well…I keep finding myself looking at Michael.
I think that just maybe…I might be developing a crush on Michael Guerin.
Which is completely ludicrous and insane. I mean, first of all, Michael’s not even someone I know that well. I doubt we’ve ever spent more than 10 minutes in each other’s presence at a time.
And then there’s Maria. God, Maria would be so pissed off if she knew that I might have a potential crush on the guy she claims she is in love with.
Which, by the way, completely irks me. After all, Michael’s never given any reason for Maria to think that he likes her…and she’s never gone out with him or kissed him. He won’t even let her hold his hand. So, how can she love him? I mean, half the time she complains about him anyway.
Finally my school day ends and I trudge off to work in my parents’ restaurant, The Crashdown Café.
Today Maria doesn’t have a shift and it’s just my luck that Michael is the one manning the grill. Great. Now he can stare at me some more. And then I can stare at him. And both of us can pretend that we aren’t staring at each other, because neither of us likes the other, especially me. I don’t like Michael.
Oh god, I’m hopeless.
I practically love the boy.
She’s been staring back. I try to look away when she catches me looking or I try to pretend I’m looking at something over her shoulder, but I think she knows I’m looking at her.
I can’t help it. Her hair is so…smooth and silky looking. Today at lunch, she leaned over to pick up a quarter she’d dropped on the floor and her hair grazed over my arm. It took all of my willpower not to just take it in my hands and run my fingers through it.
And her eyes, they’re so…mysterious…like I said before. They’re so deep and brown…
And her lips, I’ve never felt like this before, not with any girl. I feel like I won’t be able to get through the day if I don’t get to kiss her. But of course, I’ll have to get through the day. And I will. Liz Parker would never in a million years want to kiss me. She probably thinks I’m just trailer trash. She is probably nice to me only because of Maria.
And today I have to cook at her parents’ restaurant. And I can’t help staring some more. She just looks so…lost. She’s sort of floating around from table to table. Sure, she’s polite and makes jokes with the customers. But it looks like an act. Every time her eyes meet mine I can’t help but wonder what Liz Parker is hiding, because she is definitely hiding something, and it’s slowly wearing her down.
|posted on 25-Aug-2002 9:03:52 PM|
|posted on 27-Aug-2002 10:45:19 AM|
|Thanks to shelbecat and Lucky Star for their feedback!|
Finally my shift is over. I rip my apron off, shove it into my locker and sprint upstairs to my bedroom before Michael can say anything to me. Or look at me some more. Or even follow me. I couldn’t handle that, not now.
My own feelings are confusing enough. I mean, within one day I realize I’m practically in love with the guy my best friend claims to love. That’s just…overwhelming. I need to work this all out in my mind before I do anything. And before I even attempt to talk to Michael I need to talk to Maria.
She’ll kill me, I know she will. But she deserves to know that I like Michael. It’s the right thing to do, it’s the only thing to do. I need to tell Maria right away, before I lose my nerve.
I pick up the phone. I start dialing.
Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I can’t tell Maria! I slam down the phone.
Should I follow her upstairs? I know that her parents are out of town for some business thing, so they won’t yell at me if I go upstairs. Then again, I might really freak out Liz.
I finally decide against following her and I finish cleaning up the kitchen. I grab my jacket and I check to make sure the front door is locked and then I flip off the lights. I head out the back door. As I’m getting onto my motorbike I notice lights.
They’re coming from Liz’s balcony. She must be up there. Should I go up? I know that Maria and Alex climb up the ladder to Liz’s balcony all the time. But they’re her best friends and they have her permission to go up there. Should I do it?
Yes. I mean, this could be the perfect opportunity to talk to her. And I need to talk to her. I need to admit these feelings I’ve developed for her before I explode. I’m so overwhelmed by these feelings. And they’re strong feelings. Stronger than I thought any person could develop so quickly. But I can’t deny that these feelings are very real.
If only Max could hear these thoughts. He’d never let me live it down. I’m supposed to have this tough, bad boy, rebel reputation. I’m not supposed to be a guy to fall in love, much less with the good little girl next door type.
As these thoughts finally flee my mind I find that I have walked over to the ladder leading up to Liz’s balcony and I am gripping the rungs above me. Here I go. I won’t turn back now. I can’t.
I slowly and quietly climb up until I can see over the ledge at the top. Liz is in her room, looking at the phone as if she’s in deep thought about calling someone. It looks as if she decides against calling whoever she was going to call and then she goes into her bathroom.
Great. What am I supposed to do now? Sit on her balcony and wait for her?
Exactly. That’s the only plan I have. So I pull myself over the ledge and walk across her balcony. I sit on a lawn chair and notice something on the lawn chair next to me.
I pick it up. It’s a book. It’s leather bound and looks expensive. I see no title on the cover so I flip it open.
It’s her diary.
Do I read it?
Do I put it back?
What do I do?
I read it of course. I don’t usually invade others’ privacy, but I KNOW there is something Liz is hiding, something I want to help her with. And I can’t help her unless I know what it is that she’s hiding.
And what do you usually write in a diary? Things you want to hide from other people, things that are bothering you.
I flip open to the first page. It’s just an entry saying that she got this journal from her grandmother, nothing that can be of any help there. I flip farther along.
Most of the entries are about Maria and Alex and the things they’d go out and do together. And then I flip to one of the last pages and my heart jumps into my throat as I read the words on the page in front of me. The words blur and I feel like I’m suffocating.
Today is April 3, 2002…and it happened again last night. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to turn to. Is there even anyone I can turn to? Maria or Alex would turn him in. My mother would either turn him in or try to talk to him. And if my father found out I told anyone, he’d be very angry. And he’d probably do it to me again. He’d probably go farther than raping me, though. He’d probably kill me.
I’m so scared of my father. I’m scared for my health and I’m scared for my life. And I just wish that someday I could wake up from this dream, this nightmare. My life so far has just been a waste. I’m a poor excuse for a daughter, for a person. That’s why my father rapes me. He told me that if I wasn’t such a bad daughter, he wouldn’t have to do it to me. But I’m a terrible daughter. My whole life is a waste and I have to be punished for that.
But when will my punishment end? Haven’t I suffered enough?
Oh God. Liz’s father rapes her.
Oh God. Liz sees me.
What the hell is Michael doing on MY balcony, sitting in MY chair, holding MY diary? What if he knows? Oh shit. He can’t know. Please lord, don’t let him know.
“Liz,” says Michael hesitantly. “I know what your father does to you.”
No. He can’t know. No one can know. My father will punish me more. No. This isn’t happening. I must have fallen asleep and now I’m just dreaming.
Yes, that’s it. This is a dream.
But the look in Michael’s eyes is too real. This is my reality. And I wish it weren’t.
“Liz, you need to tell someone.”
I can’t! Don’t you understand?! I can’t…
|posted on 28-Aug-2002 7:53:46 PM|
|Thanks to LittleBit, shelbecat (2x), and Eerie for their feedback!|
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. And I most definitely cannot talk to Michael about this. Not now. Not ever.
I hold my hand out towards Michael and demand, “Give me my journal, Michael.” He slowly rises and steps towards me. He holds the journal out and I quickly grasp onto it, comforted by the familiar feeling of its leather cover under my fingertips. I turn and toss it onto my bed and then I turn back to my window.
“Go home, Michael,” I say wearily.
“Liz, please, you need to talk to someone. Let me listen. I promise I won’t tell until I have your permission.”
I shake my head, for the first time realizing I have tears streaking down my cheeks, the droplets falling from my chin. Drip. Drip. Falling onto the carpet.
“Michael, go home,” I say, but this time my voice cracks. Why did it have to do that? Why can’t I just make him believe I’m strong? Why can’t I face up to the way my world is?
“Michael, go home! You don’t know me! You NEVER knew me!” I scream at him. “Don’t tell anyone and just LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” I slam my window shut and draw down the blinds, erasing Michael from my sight.
Oh god. He knows. This just CAN’T be happening. Not now. I can’t deal with this now.
I slowly slip down to the floor, sliding down the wall. I try to control my crying, to get my sobs under control, to stop this flow of tears I hate.
And as I slowly stop crying I wonder, why was Michael here in the first place? What could possibly make him feel the urge to climb up to my balcony and sit there? And why did he read my diary? He should know better than that.
These thoughts fly out of my mind as my bedroom door flies open. I quickly stumble to my feet and shudder as my father stands there, smirking at me.
“D-Daddy?” I ask. “Do you need something? I heated up your dinner. It’s still in the oven.”
He just continues to smirk at me and then he steps into the room and closes and locks my door behind him. He leans against it casually, his arms crossed over his chest.
I don’t want to look at him anymore, but I don’t risk looking away. I can’t risk not knowing where he is in the room at all times.
“Lizzie, my dinner was NOT heated up. It was ice cold.”
Oh no. Please, no. Not twice in one day. Please lord, don’t let him near me.
“And do you know what happens to daughters who don’t do as they should? To daughters who are a WASTE of space and time?”
I swallow the bile that has risen in my throat and try not to moan in terror. I keep silently begging for help but God ignores me. Please don’t let him touch me. Please don’t let him punish me. Please.
“They have to punished, Lizzie. YOU need to be punished for being a WASTE, for being trash and garbage. Ain’t that right, you little slut?! Get on the bed, whore!” he screams at me.
No. No. No. No. No. This isn’t happening. I’m just having a nightmare. I’m sleeping.
“I said get on the bed!” he roars at me, leaving me wondering why my mother doesn’t come running. He’s never been this loud before, and I wonder why my mother isn’t knocking on the door and asking what’s wrong. Where’s the good parent when you need her?
I squeeze my eyes shut and scoot onto the bed. I clutch the quilt in my fists, my eyes still shut.
I can feel the bed shift under his weight and then I hear the sounds of clothing being quickly and hastily thrown off. I gasp as I feel hands roughly ripping my robe off me. He leans over me and then I stop. I just stop.
I stop feeling. I stop listening. I just wish I could stop living. And I make up my mind. I know now how to escape this hell. There is only one way. It was always there, staring me in the face. And now I’m ready to stare it in the face.
|posted on 30-Aug-2002 3:49:44 PM|
|Thanks to LixMix5, shelbecat, Starlight, maxs silverhandprint, and Lucky Star for their feedback!|
I NEED to get her to talk to me. I NEED to tell someone. But…I can’t tell anyone without completely destroying any semblance of trust Liz has in me. I can’t tell without destroying any chance I may have with her.
Ha. That’s a riot. I’m actually thinking about NOT telling? I have to tell. Someone. Someone who can help her, but who? When?
I know Liz specifically wrote in her journal that she didn’t want Maria and Alex to know, but she’s the only one I can think of…unless…
What if I told Jim? He’s an officer…he can arrest Jeff Parker!
I take a right turn instead of a left and speed towards the Valenti home. It seems like it’s been hours since I left Liz’s balcony, but it’s only been minutes.
I pull up in front of the Valenti home and note that there are no lights on and no car in the driveway. I remove my helmet and rest it on my bike. I run up to the house and ring the bell.
There’s no answer. I sink down onto the cold porch floor and lean against a railing to wait. Jim has to come home sometime soon. And then I’ll tell him what I know and Liz will get help.
My father went back to his and my mom’s room hours ago. I cleaned up the evidence of this latest encounter and now I’m sitting here. Just sitting. Staring at the thing on my bathroom counter that can save me. This is what can release me from hell.
I slowly pop open the bottle and remove eight pills. I place them in a neat row along the counter, noting the difference between their bright whiteness and the blue marble. They don’t look threatening at all. But I guess what I’ve learned from living with my father is that looks can be deceiving. Boy, can they ever…
I grab the plastic cup I always use to rinse out my mouth when I brush my teeth and fill it will water from the faucet. Cold clear water. Sparkling. Beautiful. Without it, life would cease to exist. In a way, water IS life. Ironic. Considering I’m using it for the opposite purpose.
I raise my head and look in the mirror one last time. I notice the bags under my eyes that give away the fact that I’ve gotten very little sleep lately. I note how bloodshot and lifeless my eyes themselves are. They look like the eyes of a person who’d long ago given up on life. And my mouth. Will it be set in this grim frown for eternity?
I carefully pluck one pill from the counter and raise it to my lips. Codeine. A common narcotic prescribed by doctors for pain relief after minor surgery. These happen to be left over from when I had my appendix out last year.
I slip the pill into my mouth and take a small sip of water, just enough to wash down the pill. Too much water will slow down the effects of the drug.
I take another.
Soon there is only one pill left. It sits in my hand. Already I feel the drugs working. I’m sleepy. My vision is swimming and everything seems to be moving. My head is pounding and my heart is beating fast. Faster. Faster. Then it remains constant, but still at a deadly rate.
I take the last pill. I lie down on the floor. I close my eyes. And I wait. I just wait for death to claim me.
Is my punishment over yet?
One more part coming soon...and yes, you now have permission to kill me!
|posted on 31-Aug-2002 7:18:30 PM|
|cglenn - Lol, those cliffhangers just suck, don't they? Thanks for the feedback!|
A feeling washes over me. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. And I know. I was too late. I should have run screaming to the hills that Liz Parker’s father rapes her. But I didn’t. I wasted precious time just sitting here on the Valenti’s front porch, twiddling my thumbs.
I let Liz’s father do it again. But this time it was too much for her and she acted out the ultimate escape plan. She committed suicide.
I just KNOW this. Maybe it’s cause I’m an alien, who knows. But for whatever reason, this knowledge just invades my brain.
I curl up in a ball on the Valenti’s porch and cry. This is how Jim finds me when he finally comes home. An hour too late.
The funeral is three days later. Most of Roswell’s citizens are there to pay their respects. Our group stands off to the side. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to me. Alex and Isabel are holding each other. Tess stands between Max and Kyle as they bow their heads in prayer for Liz’s soul, stray tears dotting their faces. Tears that shimmer in the sun.
Why is the sun out? It should be raining.
And as I think this, a large cloud rolls over the sun, creating a shadow over everything. The service goes on and then…it’s over. It’s over.
Maria still clings to me. I understand her need for comfort, but I can’t offer that now. I can’t. Cause Mrs. Parker is approaching me. And by the look in her eyes, she knew what I knew.
That’s crazy. If she knew, why didn’t she do something to stop it, to stop Jeff? Why would she allow it to continue?
I look down at Maria and gently disentangle her hands from my shirt. “Maria, could you leave me and Mrs. Parker alone for a moment? We need to talk.”
Maria nods her head and hurries away towards Isabel and Alex.
I raise my head and stare into Mrs. Parker’s eyes. And somehow, our eyes are the same. They reflect something. But I soon realize that I’m mistaken. Mrs. Parker doesn’t know anything. She is seeking answers though.
We keep eye contact and finally she breaks down into tears as she sees something, some minute little detail in my eyes, that tells her I know. She breaks down at the same moment as the heavens let lose a downpour of rain upon us, soaking us almost instantly.
Your mother came up to me
She wanted answers only she should know
Only she should know
“Did…did you know my daughter well?” she asks me.
I slowly shake my head. “No, Mrs. Parker. We were merely acquaintances.”
It wasn’t easy to deal with the tears that rolled down her face
I had no answers cause I didn’t even know you
But these words
They can’t replace
The life you
The life you waste
And in that instant I no longer fully understand. I thought I did. I thought I had Liz all figured out. She was sad and depressed because of the things her father did to her. But there has to be more. Something more was causing her additional heartache. And all of a sudden I feel like I don’t know the smallest thing about Liz Parker or her motivation for killing herself.
There were many reasons that she killed herself, but I don’t know what they were or how they figure in. I just KNOW they were there.
How could you paint this picture?
Was life as bad as it should seem that
There were no more options for you?
I can’t explain how I feel
But I know what’s it’s like to want to end it all. I know. I grew up with Hank. I had no friends. I had no one to love me or care for me or even care about me at all.
I once thought about committing suicide. But I couldn’t do it.
I’ve been there many times before
I’ve tasted the cold steel of my life crashing down before me
But these words they can’t replace
The life you
The life you waste
I pull Mrs. Parker into my arms and hug her. I look around and don’t see Mr. Parker. Thank god. A cemetery would be a bad place for me to beat the life out of that piece of shit.
He wasn’t a father. He was a demon in disguise. Those are the only words that can explain what he was.
Did Daddy not love you?
Or did he love you just too much?
Did he control you?
Did he live through you at your cost?
Did he leave you no question for you to answer on your own?
I let Mrs. Parker out of my embrace. We nod to each other in recognition of each other’s grieving and then we go our separate ways. Somehow, I can’t tell her. Not yet. But someday, I will.
I find myself walking towards the park and all I can do is think of the many painful ways I can kill Jeff Parker.
Well fuck them
And fuck her
And fuck him
And fuck you
For not having the strength in your heart to pull through
I’m sobbing again, not even trying to protect myself from the rain. The rain is a bit refreshing and it just washes my tears away so that they merge with the rainwater. The rain wipes away the evidence of my grief and this guilt I will always carry.
And I wonder if maybe Liz had an idea, by taking those pills. Would it be worth it? To take my life? Now?
I see my friends ahead of me, clustered in a circle, holding hands, and I know I can’t leave them. Not now. Not yet.
I’ve had doubts
I have failed
I’ve fucked up
I’ve had plans
Doesn’t mean I should take my life with my own hands
But these words
They don’t replace the life you waste
Liz could have gotten help. But instead, she chose to waste her chance at a happy life. I won’t do that. I won’t throw my life away.
I’m going to live. Slowly I’ll get through each day.
I’ll live for Liz.
“I’ll live the life you waste,” I whisper. My words are swept away as I join my friends in grieving.
This is my life. I’m going to live it.
Thanks to everyone who left me feedback for this fic, I really appreciate it! Just so you know, I am in the process of writing a short sequel piece to this, as I now realize how many unanswered questions are left hanging here at the end...the sequel will be called 'Living'...I hope to post Part 1 in a few days, so look for that!
|posted on 1-Sep-2002 11:56:39 AM|