You Can't Keep Faking That You Don't Feel This Anymore
You Can’t Keep Faking That You Don’t Feel This Anymore
-For Brave New World
-Comm: justprompts: Help Picture
-Elle trying to cope with life post being possessed by Rosier
-Word Count: 716
-Staring: Mostly just Elle with a lot of references to the other BNW crew.
To say Elle wasn’t doing so well was probably an understatement. She’s basically become a hermit, hiding away in her apartment. She keeps her amulet on her all the time. She’s terrified Rosier or something worse will come after her, and she’s not sure she could go through that again.
Correction: she knows she couldn’t go through it again.
She doesn’t sleep much anymore. The over the counter pills aren’t cutting it. Everytime her eyes close, she sees it. She sees what Rosier did inside of her body. The women he seduced, the hearts he ripped out and burnt and ate and it makes her throw up. She’s done horrible things on her own accord, but the fact that she had no control over any of this makes it so much worse. At least when she had hurt people in the past, it had been her choice.
She can’t wait until Sylar brings her some of the harder drugs from the hospital, so she can slip with into a dreamless sleep. Her mind is filled with too much she wants to forget and too many blank spots from things she’s already forgotten. She dreams of electricity and screams and blood and sand. Her father’s disapproving face.
She misses Dean, though she’ll never admit it. Or maybe she misses the security she felt when he was around. It’s not like they had been madly in love or anything. She hadn’t loved him, she didn’t think. But she had liked him a lot. She likes to think that if he was still around he would hold her through the night, even though he probably wouldn’t. Of course, if he was around, none of this might have happened, but that’s a whole other issue. The point is he’s gone, and sure, it’s technically her fault because she killed him, but he started it. He was the one who ruined everything by cheating on her. What was she supposed to do? So now she’s alone again.
She’s alone again and it just sucks. She wishes she had taken Sylar up on his offer months ago when he begged for her but it was too late now. He had Peter and she had no one. Not that she wants Sylar like that per se, but it would be better than being alone. It doesn’t seem fair that he gets to be happy when she’s so miserable. But then again, when has life ever been fair to her?
She has friends, and people seem to actually care for once what happens to her, but she’s not sure how to deal with that. And she’s grateful, she is, but she still feels like the outcast, and she has a feeling she always will. She’ll never fit in like the Claires. She’ll never be loved like they are, and no matter what she’ll always hate them just a little for that.
She makes her way to her fridge and looks at the soup Claire left when she visited, and she feels ready to hurl again. Her stomach hurts from how much she’s thrown up. She almost thought of taking the other her’s suggestion about getting a cheerleader blood transfusion, but she has a feeling this isn’t just a physical thing. Her electricity keeps shorting out on top of everything else, and last time that had happened, it had all been in her head. Ruby had warned her that being possessed took a number on her soul, she hadn’t been kidding.
Elle closes the fridge door and goes back to her bed, where she spends most of her time, and curls up in a ball, blue sparks dancing across her skin. She wants someone to come take care of her, to tell her everything’s going to be alright. She was safe now, right? She shouldn’t be so afraid. She was raised to be a Company girl. She was raised to be better than this pathetic thing. But she’s tired. She’s so tired of trying. It seems like everything blows up in her face. She can’t do it on her own.
She needs something, but whatever it is, she’s too afraid to ask for it now.
Who’d could help her now anyways?
She’s pretty sure she’s beyond being helped.
And maybe that’s what hurts the worst.
-For Brave New World
-Comm: justprompts: Help Picture
-Elle trying to cope with life post being possessed by Rosier
-Word Count: 716
-Staring: Mostly just Elle with a lot of references to the other BNW crew.
To say Elle wasn’t doing so well was probably an understatement. She’s basically become a hermit, hiding away in her apartment. She keeps her amulet on her all the time. She’s terrified Rosier or something worse will come after her, and she’s not sure she could go through that again.
Correction: she knows she couldn’t go through it again.
She doesn’t sleep much anymore. The over the counter pills aren’t cutting it. Everytime her eyes close, she sees it. She sees what Rosier did inside of her body. The women he seduced, the hearts he ripped out and burnt and ate and it makes her throw up. She’s done horrible things on her own accord, but the fact that she had no control over any of this makes it so much worse. At least when she had hurt people in the past, it had been her choice.
She can’t wait until Sylar brings her some of the harder drugs from the hospital, so she can slip with into a dreamless sleep. Her mind is filled with too much she wants to forget and too many blank spots from things she’s already forgotten. She dreams of electricity and screams and blood and sand. Her father’s disapproving face.
She misses Dean, though she’ll never admit it. Or maybe she misses the security she felt when he was around. It’s not like they had been madly in love or anything. She hadn’t loved him, she didn’t think. But she had liked him a lot. She likes to think that if he was still around he would hold her through the night, even though he probably wouldn’t. Of course, if he was around, none of this might have happened, but that’s a whole other issue. The point is he’s gone, and sure, it’s technically her fault because she killed him, but he started it. He was the one who ruined everything by cheating on her. What was she supposed to do? So now she’s alone again.
She’s alone again and it just sucks. She wishes she had taken Sylar up on his offer months ago when he begged for her but it was too late now. He had Peter and she had no one. Not that she wants Sylar like that per se, but it would be better than being alone. It doesn’t seem fair that he gets to be happy when she’s so miserable. But then again, when has life ever been fair to her?
She has friends, and people seem to actually care for once what happens to her, but she’s not sure how to deal with that. And she’s grateful, she is, but she still feels like the outcast, and she has a feeling she always will. She’ll never fit in like the Claires. She’ll never be loved like they are, and no matter what she’ll always hate them just a little for that.
She makes her way to her fridge and looks at the soup Claire left when she visited, and she feels ready to hurl again. Her stomach hurts from how much she’s thrown up. She almost thought of taking the other her’s suggestion about getting a cheerleader blood transfusion, but she has a feeling this isn’t just a physical thing. Her electricity keeps shorting out on top of everything else, and last time that had happened, it had all been in her head. Ruby had warned her that being possessed took a number on her soul, she hadn’t been kidding.
Elle closes the fridge door and goes back to her bed, where she spends most of her time, and curls up in a ball, blue sparks dancing across her skin. She wants someone to come take care of her, to tell her everything’s going to be alright. She was safe now, right? She shouldn’t be so afraid. She was raised to be a Company girl. She was raised to be better than this pathetic thing. But she’s tired. She’s so tired of trying. It seems like everything blows up in her face. She can’t do it on her own.
She needs something, but whatever it is, she’s too afraid to ask for it now.
Who’d could help her now anyways?
She’s pretty sure she’s beyond being helped.
And maybe that’s what hurts the worst.