Author: JennaLynne PM
These are moments in time, snippets of a destroyed mind. Alex Cabot's story, begining with WPP through the present season of SVU. Slight crossover with Conviction. Contains Eating Disorder and Self Injury themes. May trigger. Alex/Jim Alex/OCRated: Fiction T - English - Poetry/Angst - A. Cabot - Chapters: 30 - Words: 2,974 - Reviews: 65 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 09-25-11 - Published: 10-08-09 - id: 5429402
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note/ Disclaimer: Okay. This entire story is an experiment. I read two stories on this site that I absolutely loved, and got the basic plot ideas kinda from them. And then, as an added challenge, I've written the chapters in the style of Ellen Hopkins book Identical. (If you haven't read it, I highly suggest it) It's either going to be really awesome, or totally awful. Now, because I've used prose, I'll try and post three "chapters" (poems) at a time. They're short, but all together; they tell a pretty cool story. I hope!
Thanks to both CNovak929 and Set It Off for writing wonderful fantastic stories that inspire me. Thanks to Ellen Hopkins for being a creative genius, and making me wonder if I could ever be as good as her. Thanks to Dick Wolf, and NBC, any character you recognize, isn't mine, and I'm grateful I'm not being sued. (god, what a mouthful)
Just another side note, the story begins as Alex Cabot enters Witness Protection. It'll play through the Conviction plotline and up into season 10, and season 11.
Warning: This story contains some rather graphic Eating Disorder and Self Harm scenes. If that will trigger you, or you're just really bothered by it, I suggest you not read it. I'll try and remember to put a warning above each chapter I get graphic in, but I can't promise I'll remember.
now live in
town in Wisconsin. Before
For lack of a better term,
I barely knew this was
even a state, let alone a place where
people really live.
I guess I know it now.
It's cold a lot here. But the
summers are warmer than
you'd think. There is no
You either freeze, or you boil.
I can hear the wind
whip in the trees; the leaves rustle on
the ground. And the crickets chirp a little
All the same, it's too quiet here.
But I have a house. A building
all my own, with a roof, windows,
and lots of pretty little rooms.
I painted my bedroom blue.
That's something I could never
have had in Manhattan. So I suppose, that's better
than having nothing at all. But a roof doesn't make