Author: JustAGirlInACoffeeShop PM
This is a story about Addison. Her troubles, her yearnings, her life. Everything was once perfect, but like a glass, it shattered. Her world fell apart and everything is seemingly over. A riveting tale through the eyes of a friend, a loved one, and part of a family, now broken. Just a oneshot. Enjoy!Rated: Fiction K - English - Hurt/Comfort/Friendship - Addison M. & Naomi B. - Words: 1,672 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 2 - Published: 10-20-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8628203
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
So. This story is just a oneshot. Not too long. I hope you all will enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, I do own the story.
Someone Lost Forever
I once had a friend; she was my person. Her name was Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery. She was my best friend and even though her name sounded so rich and snooty, she's anything but. Although I loved her, she annoyed me to the highest possible level. When I thought she could never ever steal my thunder again, she did. It was my wedding night, supposedly the happiest night of my life. But, Addie was found in the bathroom of my reception, lying on the cold granite floor half dead in a pool of blood. She had slit her wrists, drank alcohol, and taken pain medications. Most annoying best friends outshine you by announcing that they are pregnant or that they too are getting married, but no, my best friend tries to kill herself. My maid of honor managed to turn the happiest day of my life into the worst, scariest, and most terrifying day of my life. I still love her; she is my family, my person. So, I lived in constant worry that one day I will get a call from Derek, her fiancé, or Mark, her male best friend, sobbing saying that Addison died or Addison hurt herself again. I didn't go to my honeymoon until my first anniversary.
If one were to see her walking in the streets, one might envy her, envy the beautiful clothing she wore, admire the designer brand shoes she dons, or praise the elegance emanating from her every move. Little did that bystander know that it was all a guise. She is broken, far more than anyone I know. In medical school, Addison would watch at least fifteen minutes of Disney fairytales per day. Our group consisting of Derek, Mark, Savvy, Weiss, Nancy, Sam, and me always poked fun at her odd habits; as far as we knew she was the only person in the world who owned a complete set of every single Disney movie ever made and the only person who cherished the holidays more than anything. That night in the hospital, I was still wearing my perfect dress for the perfect guy for the perfect night. Sam's arm behind my back was the only thing keeping me from shattering by her bedside. Derek held onto her manicured hand gently, as if for dear life. All of us were terrified even though we were highly trained doctors, when it is someone so close nothing feels real; everything seems like a horror story of our lives. So when she opened her eyes and everything was okay I did not know what to suspect. This time on her little television, Cinderella played in the background. I liked Cinderella; she worked hard and got Prince Charming. It was the classic fairytale filled with evil stepmothers, fairy godmothers, and happily ever afters. To this day, I can still hear her haunting voice telling us a secret.
"Derek," Addison whispered faintly into her fiancé's ears, just waking from her suicide attempt.
"Addie. Please don't ever do that again. I love you," Derek replied with so much desperation in his voice.
"Derek, help me sit up," he quickly obliged even though he was wary of her ribs. They had to crack her chest to resuscitate. Gently, in fear of hurting her further, he sat behind her and cradled her body.
"And they lived Happily Ever After. The End." The television boasted. Addison started laughing and crying at the same time.
"Addie, what's wrong," I asked. She just continued laughing and crying. Finally, the laughing subsided.
"My ribs hurt like hell but I can't stop laughing," she said between sobs. "Have I ever told you why I watch Disney movies?" Everyone in the room shakes their heads, motioning for her to go on. "If I don't watch them, if I don't see the prince and the princess forever together, the happily ever after," she choked down a sob and whispered, "I feel as though I live in a world where Maleficent kills the prince and everybody stays in eternal sleep forever, Snow White never wakes from the prince's kiss, Cinderella's god-awful stepsisters' feet fit in the glass shoe, the beast is killed by the villagers and beauty dies with him, and Mulan is killed by the Huns." Once again, the strong red-headed woman burst into sobs and buried her face into her fiancé's chest.
I felt as though I did not know the woman in front of me; I had never seen that side of Addison, the sad and imperfect part of her. My friend was always perfect, always caring, and always there for me; I forgot the last time I was there for her. There was an expression on Derek's face that I will never forget; it was one of pure hatred towards whoever did this to my friend, it screamed revenge. Oddly enough, I was comforted by this expression; behind the hatred was love, so much love and care and worry. He stroked her back and whispered reassuring words, coaxing her to remember about happily ever afters, remember their relationship and how they are the happily ever after of surgeons. Addison wept on her fiancé's chest until she fell into a fitfull slumber. He sat with her through the night and refused leave her side. She was never the same afterwards, sure she was the best neonatal surgeon in the country and she was still successful, but if you look closely, you would see the broken shell of a woman peaking through however successful the make up is at covering the pain.
Overtime, people forget. They forget the magnitude of an event, they forget anniversaries, they forget birthdays. Or the pain lessens and becomes avoidable. At first, I always made sure to see Addison at least once a day or at least call two times. I was so scared that when I called and she didn't pick up that she was dead somewhere, alone. Then, after my honeymoon, I was so happy; I was pregnant and everything seemed normal again. That's how I treated everything. Addison was still my best friend and even so, I started to stop noticing the sadness in her eyes, writing it off as fatigue. I refused to let my fairytale be destroyed.
Derek was the best fiancé, then husband, one could hope for: at least for the beginning. When she was tired or depressed, I knew he would hold her and never let go. They were the closest couple I knew. Every year on the date she almost died, the donate time and money to promote awareness. "My rock," Addison always described Derek that way. But, there is always a but. By the time they got successful and became the best in their fields, they became distant. I watched from the sidelines as Mark was there for Addison on the ninth anniversary of Addie and Derek's marriage, as he was there when she cried and not Derek. One day, I saw the twinge of guilt, sadness, and desperation in her eyes, but still, I did nothing. So when that day came again, Addison went with Mark to help the cause. It was Mark that comforted her, Mark that held her, and Mark that slept with her.
I guess that night, Derek remembered to come home because I didn't hear from him in a long time. More and more, my friend depended on Mark because he was the only one there. I wish I could have told her told snap out of it and get a grip, but I wasn't there. I had the power to stop her and maybe save her. In fact, I had years to stop her, but I did not realize it until it was too late. My own fairytale with the knight in shining armor and the beautiful baby girl was falling apart. I was losing everyone I loved. That day, when she decided to go to Seattle to find her lost husband, I was not there. Those days when she was hurting in Seattle, I was nowhere to be found. That fateful day when she killed herself, it is my biggest regret that I could not be there to stop her from falling apart with my marriage. Maybe if I had just called, maybe if I had just told her I loved her still, she would still be the fiery red-headed doctor who kicked-ass.
I received a call in the middle of the night from a sobbing Derek, saying that Addison ended her life. He told me how she wrote him a simple letter:
I love you. I know you don't love me anymore, but that's okay.
I wish you held me again, for one last time. That's wishful thinking.
Only you know me, so there is no way I would have lasted long with
out you anyways. Forget me. Marry someone else. Have a good life.
I will never stop loving you.
My best friend was so annoying, always had to be the center of attention. Always had to make the biggest entrances and the most dramatic exits. I loved her, I knew her. I could have been there. I wish I were there.
It is ironic. If I stopped forgetting for maybe even a while, I would never have gotten that call. Now I remember. Now, I need to apologize to my friend and tell her I love her and will always be there for her.
I'm sorry for the trouble.
So, what did you all think. I thought that it would be nice to write something like this. Non-graphic but still sad.
Shamelessly begging for reviews :)