-D R O W N-

I vaguely wonder if I'm going to wither away.

It seems as though I have stopped caring what the imbeciles around me think of the person I am, the person I appear to be.

They know about my dirty secrets now. There is nothing left to salvage. They know about my lies and I'm sure any sincerity on my part would be disregarded, not that I can actually show such a thing.

It isn't the fact that they know the truth. It isn't the looks I get when I walk down the hall or the not so subtle comments I conveniently am made to overhear. These people are weak minded and sheep like. They wanted to follow me. And if I were inclined to have them follow me again, it would be done. Fuckheads think they know everything but they don't. I could own my little pawns again if I wanted to.

But that is the issue at hand now that has mummy worrying and Tuttle tutting.

I don't seem to care.

I'm coasting.

Drifting along in habits and routine, completely oblivious.

Wake up. Shower. Put on clothes. Say good morning. Go to school.

You're so blank, Kathryn. Why are you so calm, Kathryn? Please, show some emotion, Kathryn!

I think they would prefer a tantrum, a break down, a frenzied attempt to run away. Something to show that I'm still here. That I still exist. That my head hasn't hollowed out.

I don't care.

I don't have friends.

I never had friends.

I had leeches who kissed my ass in order to suction off some of my public reverence.

I had horny boys who would do anything to touch me.

I had followers and underlings and selfish liars.

I had Sebastian.

I never had friends.

People keep expecting things of me.

They find it odd that I haven't visited his grave.

It's a piece of stone on top of a pile of decay. I do not understand why they keep insisting this is him. Why they keep insisting I 'visit' him. He is dead and gone and you can't visit someone who isn't there.

That pile of broken matter is not Sebastian.

And even in all my coldness, I will not accept that he is still around, lingering around like a watchful spirit. If there is justice in the world, he will be freed from a world he found so mundane. If there is justice, he would have had his last laugh by leaving me isolated, living, and desperately numbingly unpresent.

They see through me because I have withered away.

I stopped eating completely for a while. Not consciously. I simply stopped feeling the hunger, realizing the need. They dragged me to the hospital to be tested and such but found nothing wrong. I was healthy. They ushered in a psychologist. I said all the right things with all the right notes of emotion and they had nothing left to do but to send me home, citing grief as the cause for my disposition.

I don't cry myself to sleep daily.

I don't wake up and cut my arms.

I don't wish for death and internally mourn the prospect of another day.

I am not suicidal.

But neither am I exactly okay

I simply don't care.

Like I said, I'm withering away.

I don't need counselling. I don't need space. I don't need any of the empty words these strangers are giving me.

How do you make it better?

I still fuck, I still function, I still achieve my flawless grades.

Does it matter to the world that my brain is shutting down from lack of stimulation?

Without him, I can't very well make any thing interesting happen in this posh little glass bowl of ours.

I distantly find amusement from the clear panic stemming from those around me. Why is she acting like this?

There is no one to grab on to me.

There is no one to anchor me down.

There is no one to stop me from fading away completely.

I'm disappearing.

Will anyone care?

Unlikely. I don't care about anyone so why should they for me? And if they do care, since I do not care for them, would I even care that they care?

This is how I spend my days. Idly running thoughts distracting me from the trivialities such as eating and coming for air when swimming.

That did actually happen the other day. Went swimming. Thought it unusually stimulating to sit at the bottom of the pool and watch the water swish. Thought it rather lulling to hear nothing; a cushion of fluid softening the harshness of the surface.

And then some lifeguard type was ripping me away from the cocoon. Yelling something inaudible. The light stunned through the dulled comfort of the water. The cold air chased away what warmth I had been attempting to be engulfed by.

Suffice it to say, I was not very appreciative at the rescue.

They thought I was trying to kill myself.

The lifeguard type kept eyeing me so oddly. He so clearly needed the feeling that he had in fact saved my life and done something significant for once instead of merely wasting away his hours watching rich saggy idiots float. I screwed him. Probably the best fuck he'll ever get, which is quite pathetic for him considering I mainly stuck to Missionary.

I wasn't trying to die.

I just forgot to breathe.


He tried to kill me.

We were scuba diving.

Halfway through, he ripped off my mask and dragged it with him as he quickly swam away.

We were 70 feet under water and he had just stolen my oxygen source.

The act in itself obviously shocked me. This was our first 'family' vacation and we were fairly antagonistic towards each other, but surely, surely he wouldn't be as brash and unfeeling as to make a real attempt at my life.

My mind froze for a moment. But because this is me we are speaking of, panic didn't overwhelm me. I closed my eyes and reopened them against the sting of the water. Calmly, I looked upwards and knew that I would choke on water and drown if I made a go for the surface- not enough time when dealing with my now nonexistent air supply.

I could just let myself die, but no…that couldn't have been his purpose. He wouldn't just abruptly decide to pull off my mask and watch me die. Sebastian was a bit of a freak but he wasn't a sociopathic creeper.

What did he want from this? What did he hope to learn about me, or what action did he desire to see?

My first thought was to yank off his mask in turn. I didn't.

Air was running out. Seconds left. He showed no signs of relinquishing his hold on my mask. Nothing in his form revealed that he had seen what he had wanted to see.

At this point, I decided he was simply insane and this exercise had no point at all. Not everything he did had a purpose. Sometimes he just got bored and decided I was the most interesting thing to amuse him.

So seeing me about to suffocate would amuse him.

My logic and rationality short circuited. I was about to die and suddenly the surge of panic I had discarded with earlier attacked me forcefully. I was about to die.

I reached out underwater for his arm, latching onto it desperately as the only thing nearby that seemed clutchable and hopeful. He looked at me and my grip. Something in me decided I wouldn't grovel for my life and I released my hold, opting to make the futile attempt to swim to the surface. I knew I'd probably pass out before even reaching half way to the top.

My lungs were exploding. Black dots and such, as you know.

Couldn't breathe. Wanted to breathe. Didn't want to die now.

Two strong hands stopped my ascent from behind. He really did want to kill me, didn't he?

I kicked out vengefully and connected with his chest, my hand slapping the side of his head.

He forced me to stop moving and gave me his mask, connecting it for me and making me breathe deeply.

I blacked out regardless. I somewhat recall the vision of his arms around and under me, lifting us both back to the boat; the pressure of the mask encircling my mouth.

Back at the surface, I fell out of his arms unceremoniously, hacking madly and altogether very disgruntled. His hair was dripping and soggy and the curls stuck against his scalp; water droplets slipping against me as he leaned over my frame. His eyes were clear and serious, the eyebrows etched in a frown of concern as I still struggled to breathe. He pressed the mask against me again, forcing my air intake until I recovered enough to throw it off.

"Shitfucker!" I hissed.

Sebastian smirked, wickedly amused and the brows lifted up playfully. His eyes were still dead serious but he was taking entirely too much pleasure from seeing me seconds away from dying.

"Oh, Kathryn." He laughed.

I snatched a fistful of hair and kneed him hard before pushing myself up and away from him.

"You crazy motherfucking freak! Stay the hell away from me!" I demanded angrily. "Murderous, unstable…"

"Come now. Do you really think I was trying to kill you?"

"You tried to drown me; I think that certainly qualifies as a murder attempt."

"I was making a point."

"Proving you're psychotic and scary and should be locked away from all human contact?"

"Proving you're so ridiculously, inanely proud that you'd rather, literally, die then ask for help or admit you need it. Or maybe that's just your disdain for me showing through." He grinned. "You needed air. I had air. You chose to swim away with the knowledge that there'd be no way in hell you'd make it instead of, I don't know, reaching to me?"

"You took away my air to begin with- how was I to know you'd be so strange as to actually give it back after taking it?"

"I was your only shot at surviving and you didn't take it."

"You tried to kill me."

"Only so I could save you."

I blinked at him. "What the fuck?"

"You're not the smartest, most competent person to walk this earth. Just a wake-up call. You needed me down there and you will need me again and again and again. So stop treating me like your inferior when we both know I am an equal and I can easily kill you if given the chance. I'm not weak and you shouldn't underestimate me."

"I stick to my conviction that you're a crazy motherfucker."

"Not any crazier than you, stupid arrogant sister."

"I'm not going anywhere with you again."

"Oh but you owe me now. I saved your life."

"YOU were the one who put my life in a position that needed saving!"

"No, you were always in need of saving. But you're just too damn stubborn to admit you need it. Today was a metaphor, if you will."

"How can I even begin to trust you now?"

"You and I both know you were never going to trust me. At least now you'll respect me."

"For being a psycho."

"For having the balls to call you on your shit and shoot you down a peg. And who knows, maybe now you'll see that I am sufficiently capable of saving you again if need be. At least now you see I can clean up my messes."

"I could easily have died."

"Kathryn, I wouldn't have let you die." He rolled his eyes and stood up to peel off his wet suit, leaving me alone on the deck.

And Jesus damn him because I smiled just then. That moment did prove to me that there was more to the hot blonde than a sexy body and pouty lips. And I knew I had a new confidante.

Odd isn't it that I only started trusting him after he showed himself to be utterly untrustworthy and unpredictable?

He interested me.


Sometimes you have to die to be reborn.

And sometimes someone has to nearly kill you just to save your life.

I didn't let anyone in before that day.

I guess he did save my life.

By depriving me of air, he gave me his and forced me to rely on him.

Sebastian was insane, but I was twisted and corrupt. At least we'd be evenly matched.

Appearing suddenly back in my line of vision, Sebastian's half naked self crouched over me, wet suit off and trunks on.

"You going to bitch and sulk in your little corner all day?"

"What if it had gone wrong and I had just died down there?"

Could I call what I had been doing before I met him 'living'?

"Then baby, I can say with complete sincerity that I would have truly been sorry." He shrugged, his eyes meeting mine.

"Sorry?" I snorted.

"It was worth the risk."

"Just to see what I would do, it was worth the risk? I hope you die painfully and before me so I can be alive to mock you when it happens, you prick."

"You can't tell me you don't feel infinitely more alive now."

"You can't tell me you actually expect me to like you after that."

"You can't tell me you would've liked me had I been another one of those brainless dolts who merely fawns over you?"


He smirked darkly and leaned over me again. "Now now, Kathryn. You haven't said thank you yet."

His gaze was piercing and I let a slow smile spread across my features. Lazily, I leaned forward and tipped his head towards mine, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, brother."

With that, I kicked him back into the water and propelled the boat away, leaving him to tread water for a good hour before teasing him by allowing the boat to drift within swimming distance only to fire off again half a dozen times. An hour and a half later, his legs caved out from under him as he collapsed onto the boat I so graciously pulled beside him.

His skin was almost blue and he looked like death and borderline hypothermic, but I patted him on the head condescendingly and said, "Now say thank you. I saved you, didn't I?"

Sebastian muttered 'bitch' through his shivering lips and resentfully wrapped himself with my proffered blanket, plunking downstairs where there was heat.

Smiling pleasantly, I ordered the captain (who certainly thought we were dangerously unstable but loved his pay cheque too much to do more than feebly question) to steer back to port. Meanwhile, I laid myself out on a towel to tan under the sun.

A distinctive 'crazy motherfucking bitch' floated its way to my ears from the open door.

The grin on my face widened and I closed my eyes.

"You too, stepbrother."


Teach me to breathe again, Sebastian…


Good morning day
Sorry I'm not there
But all my favourite friends
Vanished in the air
It's hard to fly when you can't even run
Once I had the world, but now I've got no one


AN: Yes I've finally returned to update something for CI :P. I was feeling particularly crappy today and the angst fuelled this. Thanks for reviewing ) Yes there is (clearly) a chap 3 and it will go on further, flashbacks from before the film and also events afterwards