Summary: Blair gives herself "what she deserves" in the most self-destructive way.
Disclaimer: I do own Gossip Girl…in my imagination, that is!
She lay on the bathroom floor, breathing heavily. She had surprised herself when she no longer craved to release her lunch into the porcelain toilet bowl.
She didn't want much of anything anymore.
The razor was there, perfectly shiny, on top of the bathroom sink.
She grabbed it. Her fingers delicately lined the blades as she contemplated her decision.
She had nothing.
Her friends were gone. Serena preferred spending her days with Dan, and the others had followed Penelope to her throne. Blair was no longer the queen of the Upper East Side.
She had even been betrayed by Nate. He had turned her away, even when she had visited him personally. The words had come out his mouth clearly. He wanted nothing to do with her. He left when she refused to leave things unsettled; he had his own problems, and Blair was no longer one of them.
Chuck had left her as well. Even in a drunken state at the bar, she felt that he meant what he said. He compared her to a used horse, dirty and left for trash.
She had no expression when he was finished. He didn't look at her, just sipped his scotch and waited for her to leave.
Once she left, she knew she was done for. Chuck was her last resort, and he had sensed that.
She regretted ever having sex with either of them. They were on the outs because of her; her name was no longer a part of their vocabulary. She was the center of Gossip Girl blog entries for the wrong reasons.
She had nothing. She was nothing.
She let the blades cut into her wrist, and got a towel to cover the gruesome sight.
The blood began to show, red and unforgiving.
She felt no pain. She felt nothing.
Blair Wardolf had finally gotten all that she deserved.
He stepped foot into Blair's penthouse.
He wanted to ask for forgiveness. She was distant at school, sharing a few short looks of anger, but nothing more. They hadn't spoken to each other since the bar.
He knew she would be less than happy to see her.
He made his way upstairs. "Blair?" He called.
He heard a moan and headed towards the bathroom.
He saw the blood on the towel, almost seeping to the floor.
Blair was speaking indecipherable words, shaking.
"Dorota, call 911!" He screamed, taking hold of Blair.
The maid ran to the bathroom door, phone in hand. Her eyes widened as she called for an ambulance.
"Stay with me, Blair." He took her untouched hand and squeezed tightly.
She almost nodded, but she was too far gone, drowning in the loneliness that she had felt until now.
Author's Note: Hey guys! In the meantime of struggling with Chapter 7 of Closed Doors, (I like it from either Blair or Chuck's point of view- Nate and Serena are harder to write.) I've decided to post this. Let me know if I should continue this! Thanks, Cass