DISCLAIMER: I don't own gundam wing or any of its characters

DISCLAIMER: I don't own gundam wing or any of its characters. I don't even own my car so don't sue me*_*

Are You There?

By: Lara Winner

Blood was everywhere. It covered the white sheets of the bed. It was splattered across the pristine hard wood floor. The bedroom was silent. There was no sound, just eerie stillness.

Deathly quiet……...

Her body lay on the bed, her hands curled beneath her chin in an innocently childlike pose. The peaceful effect was ruined by the deep crude gashes that marred her pale wrists and the vacant stare of her lifeless blue eyes.


Bright sunlight spilled into the room bathing everything in its yellow glow. Her cheeks still glisten with tears not yet dried. Blood trickled slowly from her severed veins making the crimson stains even darker. Her raven hair ruffled slightly as a gentle breeze filtered in through the open window.




Jerking upright my eyes dart around my silent bedroom as the moonlight cast silver shadows on the shiny wood floor. I'm trembling, shaking beyond control, as the scene my dream had showed me still remains vivid despite my state of wakefulness. I can feel the tears marking their way down my face, pausing at my chin before dropping one at a time on the back of my hands. I don't dare blink them away; I can't risk closing my eyes. I don't bother to wipe them away; they'll just keep coming back.

Vacantly I stare at the far wall gripping my hands together tightly to stop them from shaking. My eyes shift to the little white bottle on my nightstand. Valium. For the span of a millisecond the appealing thought of downing the entire bottle crosses my mind but I push the thought away. I know I've become to dependent on them as it is. It's the only way I get sleep.

Every time I close my eyes I see it. Every night I wake myself screaming and crying because the image just won't go away. It's not the way I want to remember her. That's not how I want to see her when I dream of her. But all the memories I harbor are locked away in the depths of my soul in an unreachable part of myself that I'll never have access to again.

Even now, over my uneven breathing and pounding heart, I almost expect to hear her footsteps. I almost expect her to come running to my room ready to help me battle whatever nightmare had me in its claws this time. But now everything is one huge nightmare that I can't wake up from. This isn't a dream, this is reality and I would give anything to escape from it.

I shiver as the cold numb feeling that I've become used to slowly begins to creep over my body. The pain that crushes my chest starts to diminish under that blissful feeling of nothingness. I pull me knees to my chest hugging them tightly like a frightened child. I suppose a part of me is afraid. I know that I've lost the last link I had to my humanity when she di…

I laugh bitterly as I realize that even in my own thoughts I can't say the word. Somewhere inside of me there is this hope, this silly, stupid, useless hope that if I don't acknowledge the fact it might go away. If I don't let myself say it, if I can avoid thinking about it then it's not real. However, every time I come home to an empty silent house, every time I pass her closed bedroom door I feel a little bit more of my sanity slip and I feel that final piece of my heat break just a little bit more. Very soon both will shatter and then I will cease to exist. I know it and I'm afraid. And yet I want to get it all over and done with. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

Pushing my hair away from my sweaty face I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. Bowing my head I rest my chin on my knees as I listen to the faint sound of the wind howling outside my window. Right now in the dead of night the emotions surface. Right now I'm completely alone and I don't have to put on my fucking jokers face and play the court jester for everyone's amusement. Nobody knows how I still grieve for her. Nobody has seen me shed a tear. They think I'm a heartless bastard and that's fine with me. They don't matter. She knows how I feel, or the lack of what I feel now. I just don't think she ever knew exactly how much I loved her. It makes me wonder if I even did.

I can feel the tears coming again but I don't blink. I really don't care if crying helps or not. I don't care if it labels me a pussy. There's no one here to hide from. All my carefully erected walls came tumbling down the second I realized it was my fault she was gone. It didn't take me long to figure out that she did what she did because she felt alone. Because she felt useless and so hurt that she didn't want to live anymore. I was the one to blame for that.

When I think back now I wonder if things could have changed if I had given her just a little bit more attention or maybe a little bit more affection. She told me herself that I was the only person she could depend on beside herself. And of course when she told me that I put up my defenses and belittled her words and told her she was silly. She had other friends, other people who needed her. I convinced myself she did because if I let myself think otherwise I would have had to admit I needed her and I wasn't ready to do that.

I swallow convulsively as my shoulders shake violently with silent sobs. The burning ache in my throat intensifies as I cry but its nothing compared to the feeling in the center of my chest. It feels like my heart is being ripped out. I can feel the anger rising within me, the vicious self-hatred that seems to never leave my thoughts for an instant. I want to scream it out, I want to break things and throw the biggest most childish tantrum that I possibly can because I was stupid enough to do this to myself. To do this to her.

I had the chance. I everything I wanted, everything I needed right in front of me and I let it go. She slipped right through my fingers like tiny grains of sand. Only I fucked up worse then I ever could've imagined. I killed her. I didn't know that she gave me everything. I didn't know it until she was gone and I was left alone. Now I have a taste of what she felt. I know what it feels like to have nothing, to look at the world around you and know that you are so detached you don't even fear your own death. You actually look forward to it.

I press my palms against my eyes till I feel the pressure begin to hurt. Tears still manage to squeeze free and drip down my cheeks. With my eyes closed I see her face, that eternal beauty that even death couldn't take away from her. I can see the accusation in her eyes. My own eyes snap open and I'm shaking again. That look that I see over and over is driving me crazy. Even if it's imaginary it doesn't matter, it still stabs me where it hurts. I don't know how to ask her forgiveness. I don't even know if she'd give it. I don't know what else to do. She's killing me.

Before I even realize it I'm laughing hysterically, the tone of my voice is psychotic and chilling. Suddenly I find the situation perversely humorous. I killed her and now she's killing me. She's driving me insane slowly, one day at a time her memory takes a little more and a little more of my sanity. I had never thought anything could ever hurt this much. I never thought the 'Great Destroyer' would end up being a raving lunatic over some girl. But she wasn't just any girl. It was Hilde.

My Hilde.

Now I'm crying again. Harder than I think I've ever cried in my entire life. I curl up on the bed letting the tears flow out of me. The harder I cry I feel that numbness coming back. I wish it would stay. I wish it would just swallow up all the pain, all the guilt, all the longing, all the love, everything and just make it disappear. Hell, it could swallow me up too. At this point nothing matters anymore.

I just want to feel close to her one more time. I just want to see her smile, and not from some distorted memory, but a genuine smile on her very alive face. But I know I'll never see her again. I never believed in heaven or hell, but if such places do exist then I know she's in heaven for the rest of eternity. And I know I'll burn in fires of hell for all of mine. I can honestly say I'm not afraid to die. I'm not afraid of eternal damnation and endless suffering. The only thing I'm afraid of is the same thing that has me terrified now. I know I'll never be able to tell her how sorry I am or ever tell her how much I loved her.

I dry my eyes sitting up in the middle of my bed. I only know of one way that I could even possibly be close to her. I'm just not sure I have the guts to do it. I force myself to crawl out of my bed, the cool night air flowing on my skin making me tremble even more. Slowly, almost silently, I creep to the door pausing as my eyes become transfixed with the closed wooden door right across the hall. I'm not sure if a can make myself go in, I haven't entered the room or even opened the door since that day I had to clean up all the blood. That was well over a year ago. I've avoided going in on purpose and I'm afraid to do so now. But beyond my fear I feel this undeniable urge to enter.

My hand is shaking violently as I reach for the handle and turn it. Cautiously I step into the room, my eyes scanning every familiar object in the darkness. I don't know what I expect to see or why I can't seem to step forward but all I do know is that I'm fighting with every last ounce of strength I have not to slam the door closed and run like hell.

One thing I wasn't expecting was the sent of her perfume to still drift in the air. My heart jumps as I remember that sent with vivid clarity. I feel myself begin to calm a little as I breathe in the last physical impression of her that I'll ever get. In the pale moonlight I can see everything clearly, every object that she possessed placed exactly where she had left them. I used to tease her about her neat and organized method of placing everything in its designated place. Now to look around her immaculate room it comforts me a little. Not nearly enough but a little.

Before I even realize what I'm doing I begin taking small slow steps forward. Suddenly my eyes land on something that can't help but bring the smallest smile to my lips despite the hot tears that are welling up and spilling down my cheeks all over again. Tucked on her dresser mirror is a small picture of her and me. We are both smiling and I have my arm draped casually over her shoulder. I can remember that day like it was yesterday. We had gone to the circus to see Trowa when they came to L2 a few years back. Catherine had snapped the picture and gave Hilde the copy to take with us. I didn't know she kept it. I had forgotten all about it.

Gently I remove the picture and bring it closer so I can see it better in the darkness. If I had only known then what I know now I wouldn't have taken the time I had with her for granted. I wouldn't have assumed that she would always be there tagging along behind me. I would have made it easier for her. But it's a little too late to change those mistakes now and just knowing that takes the slight smile right from my face.

I hang onto the picture as I raise my eyes to the mirror once again. I look like shit so I turn away quickly. My eyes land on the bed and I stiffen instinctively. In the darkness my dream, my memory, begins to take over and I swear I can see her laying there in the darkness staring at me. I'm too tired to run from it any more. I feel slightly nauseous and lightheaded as I begin to walk toward the bed. I know I'm not afraid now, I just feel sick as unwanted reality starts kicking in. I shouldn't be in here.

In some weird twisted way I feel like I'm trespassing. I never went in her room with out permission and I shouldn't be dong it now. But I don't want to leave. My own room seems like another world compared to here. Its like I reset time and maybe if I look close enough or wait long enough she'll be here with me. I want her to be even if I'm not aware of it.

Gently I sit down on her bed and I shiver slightly as I realize that I'm probably insane for wanting to be here in this particular spot sitting just inches from where I found her body. I clutch the picture of us tightly as more tears begin to flow. I just want to die too; right here right now I just want to let it all go. But I know I'll never forget her so there is no escape.

Emotionally exhausted and physically drained I lay down and curl on my side. Even the pillows hold the same sent as the air, the same sent of her skin. Reaching out my hand I lay it against the cold sheets beside me. My eyes stare straight ahead as I realize that I don't feel her. I don't feel her presence in the least. Was that what I was hoping for by coming in here? I really don't know. Maybe I just needed to be surrounded by something that she called hers. I don't know and I doubt I ever will.

Against my will my eyes slide shut and refuse to open. I can feel the sleep waiting to take over my thoughts. I'm too tired to move but I know if I awake from my dream, here of all places, I really will go crazy. Suddenly I want to move, I want to be anywhere but here. I don't want to think anymore about her right now. I just want have one moment when I'm not thinking about her, when I'm not wanting to be with her so bad that it hurts. I would give anything, absolutely anything to not hurt anymore. I just want her back.

Feeling the tears still coming even with my eyes closed I can't help but sigh, sleepily voicing the one question that might be the key to my salvation. Almost as if through a distance I hear my own hoarse, choked voice whisper in defining silence, "Are you there, babe?"

And as I expected I drift off to sleep without an answer. I know exactly where my dreams will take me just as I know this hell will still be there when I wake up.

A.N.- Um….I….(fidgets nervously) Don't hate me please! I know this is depressing and sad and it killed me to write it but my little muse was adamant about doing something mean to them. I tried to talk her out of it, really I did. Anyway, I'm very sorry this is so sad I really am. I'll have the next parts to my incomplete stories out very soon. Thanks a bunch for reading and please believe me. I'm sorry. Luv ya guys! *_*