Every muscle filling her small frame grew taunt - It would be easy to strike. Beating the woman black and blue, like she had done so many times to her own daughter. How hard Ashley had to work to protect this evil witch, spending hours on her make up to keep her dark secrets hidden.
Keeping her hands pinned to her sides was becoming more and more difficult, especially with thoughts fueling anger - She could only stare waiting to see how long she'd be able to control herself.
There was no Ashley to stop her.
There was no one else around.
For several seconds neither of them spoke, just stared. The woman at the door didn't seem so tough now, even as the scowl turned her lips and the dislike masked her face, Spencer stood before her fearless and strong, not hiding her own dislike. The blue in her eyes became dangerous, like a predator carefully watching its prey. "May I help you with something?"
There was really no easy answer to the simple question. "How's Ashley doing?" What brought her to Christine's mansion was a mixture of complete despair and anger. Having spent the entire night crying, and screaming into her pillow, she didn't feel stable.
At the moment, she felt completely unpredictable.
The brunette gave her a strange look, a 'how should I know' expression that didn't sit well with her. "You don't know. You haven't seen her yet, have you?" She had the nerve to smirk smugly at the door, smirk at her growing anger. "My father's a social worker and my mother's an ER doctor. I know a lot about you and how you've treated Ashley." That wiped the smile off her face. "My parents have seen it too, and theyve had their doubts about Ashley's stories."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Anger shaped her demeanor, but nothing was going to scare her away. There was nothing scary about the coward in her face, and she loved filling her with fear. "Is it money youre looking for?"
"No," The blonde wanted to smile, she wanted to be smug to the woman. In the end, she knew the final laugh would be hers. "I want to understand." Her voice softened as the emotion became clear. The reality of what she was doing began to corrupt her hard exterior. "Why you treat her the way you do."
Christine wasn't going to make it easy for her. All she wanted was answers to the many questions that plagued her thoughts. What brought Ashley to the brink of death? Nothing else in the universe mattered, she had to know.
Vengeance was such a powerful emotion, she lost all rational thought to it, deciding the risks were worth what the outcome could be.
"Why should I tell you anything? I don't owe you a damn thing. And if your parents are such a threat, how come I'm still here? Why am I not in a jail cell, Sunshine?" Slowly, her confidence was returning, and it was feeling more and more like a game of chess.
"Ashley never wanted you in jail." The words were drenched in disgust for the plastic heartless woman. "For some reason, I'm not even sure, she protected you, begging me to promise I would never say anything to anyone about the beatings. And I love her so much, I swear on both Ashley's and Raife's grave I would never tell a soul. I just have to know, why. Why Christine do you despise Ashley so much?"
The seconds seemed like hours, and she could see the internal struggle, playing in her mind, seep into her facial features. From the stern eyes that bore deep into her sincere ones, to the untrusting scowl shaping her lips. She didn't want to say okay, but didn't have much of a choice. "Come inside."
The door closed behind her, and she never thought, In a million years, she'd find herself alone with Ashley's biggest tormentor. Never thought, she'd take a seat on the couch and calmly watch her move around in the kitchen."Would you like a drink Spencer?"
"No thank you." In her mind, this moment was violent. A dark fantasy she harbored on and off throughout her life. The urge to get up and shove her to the floor, kicking and stomping until the luxurious home became a crime scene, was overwhelming.
But she stayed still, and polite.
Blue eyes met brown watching the glass move up to her lips, she took painfully slow sips as she stared at her from across the room. "I never wanted children." She started casually. "I never wanted Raife either. Having sex with him at the young age I did was the biggest mistake of my life. I had two options. Marry him or have an abortion." She took another sip speaking with little emotion. "I lost my nerve and couldn't go through with the abortion. Another big mistake." She snickered and Spencer clenched her jaw finding harder and harder to sit there.
"We got married because it was the right thing to do. I naively thought maybe everything would turn out okay, maybe I would grow to love them both. It never happened. The longer I stayed with them, the more I grew to hate them. I hated everything about him, and she looked and acted just like him. She was the worst child. We sent her away to a catholic boarding school when she was young, and she was kicked out for picking fights. Not only with the other kids, but with the nuns. I knew she would be a handful and I wouldnt tolerate her foolishness. Yes, I beat her but she deserved it each and everytime."
"And does she deserve this too?" Picking up the picture on the end table, she spitfully showed it to the grinning brunette. "Does she deserve to see his face each and every day?"
"He did nothing wrong." Spencer couldn't stand to sit still any longer. A tiger crept underneath her skin and she wanted to tear the bitch apart limb from limb. "She asked for it."
"She was a little girl, Christine! What the hell are you saying?" Her tone had become violent and it was hard to keep the distance between them. Her grin grew into a full blown smile until she finally started chuckling. "She didn't ask him to fuck her, she was twelve years old, you can't really believe she would-"
"Did you know Ashley kept a diary?" The abrupt change in subject took her her off guard. Wearily she shook her head no, staring questionably into her delighted face. "You don't know my daughter. At tweleve years old she was drinking my alcohol, all of my alcohol and stealing my prescription medication. And your innocent little Ashley would get fucked up almost every night and write in this dairy." She chuckled some more shaking her head from side to side. "My little poet wrote about sex, often. She wanted it, Spencer. She really did. And these little fantasies all had one thing in common." She took another sip and her gaze became playful. "You. She wrote about fucking you, Spencer. At twelve years old, and yes I beat Ashley, and I beat her often. And I found the diary and I beat her, knew she was stealing my medication, and I beat her- She never learns and she does it on purpose. I know she does. She despises me as much as I do her. At twelve she wanted sex, at twelve she drank every night, at twelve she took my drugs and I do believe at twelve she fucked Michael. She fucked Michael because she knew I loved him, and she knew how to ruin that for me. And yes, when I found out, I beat her. I wanted to kill her because once again she managed to ruin my life and I wanted her dead for it, all the pain and agony I went through because of her. She's nothing but a whore, a prositute drug addict and she admits it. She has no shame, and you have no idea what I put up with. No, I haven't seen Ashley and I don't plan on seeing her anytime soon. She ruined my kitchen! And you better keep her away because im done playing her little games! Next time I see her, ill use the same knife she used on my counter tops on her fucking throat!"
"You're sick, Christine. How you can justify this grown man forcing himself on your daughter, your little girl- You're sick for it. She didn't ask for it, I've seen true pain and agony in her. He broke her, he ruined her, and you did nothing, not a damn thing but accuse her, brainwashing her to believe it was all her fault. It wasn't. She did nothing wrong, it was your mentally ill boyfriend who-"
"Michael was seduced!" Her voice boomed with rage and she was beginning to see Christine's true colors. The woman who didn't hesitate raising a hand to Ashley, fucking her face and body up. "My whore daughter spread her legs to him begging for it-"
"And he gave in right? He fucked your twelve year old daughter, right?"
"Yes, but he felt pressured-"
Now it was Spencer's turn to laugh. "Are you telling me Ashley raped Michael? Are you out of your mind?" She smiled and held her hands up , keeping Christine from saying anything else. She was done with her nonsense. "Thank you for your time. Michael is a piece of shit, and so are you. You don't deserve any of this, Raife wouldnt allow it, and I won't allow it." Pulling a slim black cell phone from her pocket, she smiled smugly. "I hope you have a damn good lawyer, Christine. You're going to need one."
The brunettes face turned to sheer horror staring at the phone. She had recorded the whole conversation. "You lied to me." And the devil came out of her. "Give me that you bit-"
Spencer grabbed the approaching woman and slammed her against the wall. "Don't touch me! Don't ever fucking touch me!" She spat throwing her to the floor.
She walked out of the house, never looking back.
Hellos weren't needed as the blonde stepped inside, cupping her face, she lured her into a hungry kiss. Lately she had been a completely different person, wanting sex and not much else. Conversation was short, and unnecessary, Erin would sometimes get her head chewed off for saying the wrong thing. It was easier to never speak, Spencer didn't care to hear anything more than her name being moaned.
Falling backwards onto the bed, Spencer fell with her, covering the length of her torso with her hungry body, she kissed and nipped at her neck. Pensive eyes simply stared watching the blonde pull her shirt up mid way, trailing her lips to the waistband of her jeans. "Stop." Blue eyes opened meeting her hard stare. "I-I know you're hurting-"
"I'm fine." She moved her eyes back down to the button of her jeans, but never got a chance to touch it. Her hands were stopped by slightly larger ones, they moved them away ignoring the blondes frustration.
"Spencer, you're not fine. All you want to do is fuck me, and that's it. I know you're going through a lot, I just want to be there for you." The sincerety pooled into her eyes, she also seemed sympathic, but Spencer was finding it hard to care.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice sounded strange, like it belonged to someone else. She couldn't remember the last time she sounded like herself, felt like herself. That person didn't seem real now. The over achiever stopped existing, replaced with a short tempered distant bitch. "There isn't much to talk about."
Erin sat up and crossed her legs, taking Spencer's hands into her own, they stayed interlinked between them on the bed. The blonde found little comfort in the gesture, she was becoming more and more irate just wanting Erin, not her sentimental bullshit. "You just lost your brother, Spence. That has to be something to talk about."
Spencer looked away.
The funeral was over before it started. She had no desire to do anything more than stare down or at a wall. Avoiding everyone, everything, was a priority. Only family was there, and they knew to give her space, most of them just greeting her, and then leaving her alone. Her demeanor wasn't polite, it was cold and unwelcoming.
She didn't want to be there.
Not much crossed her mind on the car ride home. Her parents were worried about her, reccommending she see a therapist, get a prescription to help deal with everything.
She didn't want medication, didn't want anything.
The car found the driveway, and then she found her bedroom. In the darkness, she slept. And in the day, she laid awake hidden from the rest of the universe.
"He died from heroine withdrawal and you already know that." Once again, she was beginning to lose all patience, something the artist was growing used to dealing with. "Should I cover anything else with you? Are you really so desperate for gossip-"
"I'm not trying to gossip, Spencer!" Now she was raising her voice,something she'd always been able to control. "He was your twin brother!" Today her silence ended, she had to get into the blondes head, she couldn't stand not knowing anymore. "He wasnt the greatest guy in the world but I know you have to feel something..."
The words trailed off butchered by her abrupt laughter. It was light as she stood and then stopped as she walked away from the artist, finding a window. The day was beautiful, but she didn't see much more than the suns empty brightness.
As she stared her mind began to wander in the silence. She hated Erin for putting all of this in her head again, all she wanted was to escape everything. Her life was officially unbearable. Glen was dead. She couldn't get the night to stop playing, the moment she found out.
The start of a very brutal truth coming to light.
"Spencer," Darkness faded as the world came alive. Lately, waking up was nothing to look forward to. The sight of her father and mother, the distraught on their faces, could only mean more bad news. Silently, she laid almost lifeless just staring. Her mother opened her mouth and could only cry, burying her face into her father's shoulder.
It was strange... She didn't understand how a person could feel so numb. She almost didn't feel human. There was absolutely nothing, not a damn thing. It was almost as if someone had cut her open and removed everything inside of her, leaving a hollow shell. The words were finally spoken. "Sweetheart," Arthur's voice was soaked with emotion she couldnt feel. " Glen, he... He's with God now. He' gone..."
Blue eyes closed, it was hard to watch them fall apart. And yet, she felt paralyzed. Her brother was dead. Through their pain, they managed to explain. It was from the heroin withdrawal, his body couldn't handle the loss of a chemical it had grown to love, need.
As if on auto pilot, she moved to them as they collapsed on the floor, entangling herself in the mess that was her family. Together the three of them held each other, and cried. All of them destroyed, their hearts ripped apart.
They'd never be the same again.
"Hey," A gentle touch to her back brought her back from that night. Feeling a heavy exhaustion, she fell into the artist' s arms, closing her eyes. She loved losing herself in Erins body, the distraction kept her from reality, it momentarily took her to a different one. Having sex with Erin made her feel a sense of normality her life was lacking. She felt like a typical carefree teenager again. "It's okay to miss him Spencer."
"I don't miss him." The words were quiet and tired. She held the artist closer nuzzling the fabric over her collarbone. "And he's not my brother. Just a monster." Her mind began wandering again, to a much darker place. "If he weren't dead already, Erin." Her tone was hushed now, "I'd kill him myself."
"You don't mean-"
"I do mean it." She cut her off meeting the incredulous look on her face. "Isn't this what you wanted to hear? What's been going on in my head? I've thought a lot about how I would kill him. Debating between-"
"Spencer, stop." There was a look of sheer horror on her face as she tried to reason with the girl in her arms, but Spencer didn't care for it. The honesty in her voice, the darkness in her eyes- Erin didn't doubt for one second that Spencer would really kill Glen and the thought sent shivers up and down her spine.
Removing herself from Erin's arms, she walked away becoming more and more angry. The artist's shock was understandable. "You don't know anything." But the truth was much more powerful. Eating away at her every second of every day, there was no escaping what she had discovered and it made her so angry, the only comfort she found in knowing was thinking of all the different ways she would have hurt her brother. He deserved the worst hell imaginable. There was so much she wanted to do to him, and she'd never get the chance. "After he died, I went into his room. We needed pictures for the funeral and naturally I thought... I thought maybe he'd have some on his computer my parents would want to use." The words stopped and for several seconds she silently stared at the ground. "I-I," The pain came instantly choking her up, it was becoming more and more difficult to speak, but it all came out strained and forced. Spencer fought the tears hard, losing to them. "I found videos." She wiped some of the tears away, beginning to feel the rage boil inside of her. "Of Ashley... So many videos of her, Erin..."
Erin urged her into her arms, holding her close. The hysteria became apparent as she spoke. "And...and my brother was, he was filming her fuck all these different people. And I found, I found," Again there was silence as she tried her best to stay composed. It was a losing battle, but the artist patiently rubbed her back, kissing her forehead soothingly, letting her know everything was okay and to take her time. "Records, appointment times, names- they were like receipts and some of them were for purchasing DVDs of Ashley, and.. and my god Erin. She's not older than 14 In some of them, and the drugs...Theyre everywhere, and she does them all the time. I spent hours watching video after video, I couldn't stop myself. I cried until my body killed me, until it was too sore to keep crying. I fucking hate him, Erin! I want to hurt him so bad... He showed no fucking mercy and.. and some of his comments- I want to kill him, I'm glad he's fucking dead!"
Delving deeper into her guilty conscious, she pushed away from Erin and kneeled to the ground bringing her hands up to her face, she screamed into them feeling the guilt destroy her. "Where was I? Where the fuck was I?" She hated herself more and more, and now more than ever, she could understand the need to want to run. She wanted to run far far away from herself. What was she doing when Glen was leaving with a video camera and bag of cocaine? She should have known, and if she really thought about it, the conclusion was the same.
She did know.
The signs were always there. Ashley and her brother at a party, going into rooms with different men, and her frozen watching them. Why couldn't she go in there and stop them? Keep the men from fucking her friend, keep Glen from filming it, keep Ashley safe in her arms.
She wanted Ashley, she wanted Ashley so fucking bad that it killed her. The days were meaningless and the night's lonely. No one could fill the void, no one, and the pain was so overwhelming. She missed her smile, missed the scent of her hair, her laughter-
Erin was back at her side, rubbing her back as she released the agony, all of the raw emotion killing the person she once was. She leaned into her despite the intense impulse to curl up into a ball and stay that way until... Until... She felt something close to decent, but as the days passed she had little hope that she'd ever feel that way again. Spending every second anticipating the day her mother would come to her. The news would be grave, an expression that would paint her face. Her lips would open and the words... They'd become knives, killing her with each letter spoken. A life without Ashley, it was hard to imagine despite her friend's careless drug use, she couldn't think about it for very long. Even in a fantasy, the loss was too much, and the more she thought about it, the more clear it became.
She couldn't live without Ashley.
She didn't want to live without her. How could she wake up every morning knowing she'd never be able to see her dearest love? It would be an empty existence, and shed live the rest of it as a ghost. "I miss her." She spoke inaudibly against the artist knowing she couldnt hear the mute words. "I love her. I love her so much..."
Little of her attention was on the movie playing on the tv, the reason lied beside her on the bed. She'd steal glances at the brunette from time to time fighting back the strange urges of her developing body. Twelve years old was becoming a strange age for her, just being close to her best friend was becoming torturous. Their bodies didn't have to touch to want to touch, and she had no idea what all that meant.
Ashley turned abruptly catching her stare, she lied on her side openly staring right back, smiling at her embarrassment. "You get so red, Spence." She mocked amazement. "You've known me forever and I still make you blush?"
"I'm not blushing." Ashley chuckled at the lie moving until her lips tickled her ear, she whispered. "You can stare at me whenever you want. I kind of like it."
She watched Ashley sit up trying to calm her heart beat. The blush on her face was a shade darker, she looked away sitting up with her friend. The brunette seemed a lot better lately, more like herself. She always seemed happier when allowed to sleep over, especially since losing her father two months before. "I'm starving. How about you?"
"What do you plan on cooking us, Ash?" She teased knowing the brunette didn't do very well in a kitchen setting.
"Whatever I can throw In a microwave, Spence." Getting off the bed, Ashley moved to the body mirror on the door, tousling her crazy long curls.
Spencer never forgot how incredibly gorgeous her friend was, unlike her awkward stage, Ashley was flourishing beautifully into a teenager with little physical flaws. "Who are you trying to look good for?"
Mischief glimmered in the eyes she met in the mirror, "You." She spun around and grabbed her hand. "Now dance with me." Spencer rolled her eyes playfully and began moving with the brunette. They mostly jumped around her room to the music playing from the movie credits.
Out of breath, Ashley fell into the giant bean bag bringing Spencer down with her. The blonde couldn't stop giggling peering down into the brunette's flushed face. Her head was tilted back continuing to stare into the mirror. "You're beautiful, Ash." She reassured also staring into the mirror. Her body completely covered the brunette's and if it weren't for being flushed from dancing, she knew Ashley would be pointing out her obvious blush.
"No," Ashley moved her eyes from the mirror to meet her inquisitive blue. Was she really about to argue with her? She opened her mouth to protest but a finger silenced her. "We're beautiful."
"Right." Sarcasm soaked the small statment, Spencer didn't feel beautiful, she felt awkward in her own skin. Ashley had flawless olive kissed skin with not a blemish in sight. She wasn't so lucky. "I have the worst case of pizza face syndrome."
"Pizza face syndrome?" A small smile graced her friend's features as she cupped the side of her face, running her thumb up and down the slightly blemished skin. The blonde looked away nervously, embarrassed her friend was touching her disgusting face. "You're perfect."
Spencer looked at her caught in the honesty of her dark eyes. She was momentarily left speechless, and couldn't argue with Ashley. There wasn't much she wanted to say, every instinct in her body screamed close the distance, and kiss the lips so very close to her own. Ashley must have seen the struggle in her eyes, because she didn't make a sound. She could only stare waiting to see what would happen next.
Spencer lost the nerve and ended up murmuring a thanks before getting off Ashley. She lied in the dark studio staring at a blank canvas torturing herself. What if she would have kissed Ashley that day? Would it have changed anything? Would it have stopped her from seeking comfort in her brother's pain killers?
Rolling onto her back, staring at the ceiling, she felt the body beside her stir, a dark head lifted up from the pillow they shared staring sleepily at her. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
"No, im fine. Just thinking." There was no oppurtunity for nightmares. She slept briefly after breaking completely down, waking up from a dreamless nap, she spent the next hours venturing down memory lane making herself miserable with thousands of what ifs.
"I have to see her." Erin moved to her, resting her head on her shoulder as she held her. "I haven't seen her since she collapsed In my arms." Her voice was quiet and distant as her mind raced. "I kept her alive, she would have died if I hadn't performed CPR. I don't even really know..." The words trailed off for several seconds as the memory replayed in her head. "I don't know if she's still alive, if she's awake, or asleep. I'm terrified, I know there's this chance she might not ever wake up, and I have this strange way of thinking that maybe if I never found out the truth, she could always be alive. And then I feel guilty for leaving her alone, because I know she's always alone in that hospital room. How terrible it must be to lie in a coma and never be spoken to by anyone you love." How could she just abandon her like that? "I have to see her."
Abruptly, she moved from underneath the artist, standing by the bed she looked around in the dark for her shoes. "I'm going to buy flowers and balloons and leave them for her so when she wakes up she'll know at least one person thought about and missed her." The tears were beginning to fall, she kept her eyes closed trying to stop them. "She'll know there was at least one person who loved her."
"Spencer." There was a voice of reasoning at her side, taking her hand, keeping her still. "It's four in the morning. Rest and see Ashley tomorrow." The other hand moved the hair out of her face, playing softly in long strands of blonde. "Please?"
Leaning into the taller body, staring into the darkness, at the empty canvas, her exhaustion was ignored, nonexistent. All she felt was this overwheling need to see her love. Erin stroked her hair, comforting her, and she knew the artist didn't want her to leave. The apprehension was in the air, and it lingered in the silence. "I need her Erin." But there was no second guessing where she needed to be. Where she should have been since holding her heart in her arms, and keeping it alive, she should have never left Ashley's side. "I have to go."
Walking down the white halls of the hospital was nothing new to her. She had come to visit many times to see her mother, growing to know a lot of the doctors and staff throughout the years. They all greeted her the same way. "I'm so sorry to hear about your brother. My family and I have kept you, Dr. Carlin, and Mr. Carlin in our prayers." Dr. Moore, a colleague and close friend of her mother's, gave his condolences as they walked to the elevator.
"Thank you." The elevator door closed and she braced herself, staring at Dr. Moore. She requested to see Ashley at the front desk and he offered to bring her to the room. He didn't say anything about her, and she dreaded asking, fearing the worst. "How is she?"
He met her gaze calmly and spoke professionally as they walked onto the third floor. "We're still uncertain of the extent of the brain damage. We've run many tests and we don't know why she's unresponsive. Her eyes have been open for a week now, but she remains unresponsive. She'll spend hours staring at the wall and doesn't eat or move. We've tried to contact her mother but she refuses to come and we haven't been able to track down any other nearby family members."
"I'm her only family."
The doctor nodded having brief knowledge of the relationship between the carlins and the sick brunette. "She dated your brother if I'm not mistaking. I'm sorry you're going through-"
"She dated me." The words came out shaky as they approached the closed door. The chart reading Davies, Ashley. She wanted so badly to run her fingers across the bold text. "I love her very much."
The doctor nodded in understanding placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Take as long as you need with her, Spencer. And let me or anyone here know if you need anything."
"Thank you, Dr. Moore." With a warm smile, she watched him walk away. Turning her attention back to the door, she hesitated taking the handle into her hand. On the otherside of the door lied her best friend and love, she walked into the room slowly closing the distance between them.
Ashley had her own room, but it lacked flowers, cards, and pictures. There was nothing but an off tv and different machines connected to the sleeping brunette. Spencer carefully took her hand into her own, craddling it like a precious gift. "I'm so sorry." With her other hand, she wisked her dark bangs out of her eyes. Ashley looked peaceful in her sleep, the bruises faded almost completely, leaving little damage on her beautiful face. "I'll never leave you again." She ran her fingertips carefully down the soft skin of her cheek. "I love you so much." The tears started along with the guilt, her hand fell from her face as she collapsed onto the side of the bed kissing the hand she held so delicately, careful not to disrupt the tubes in her arm. "I can't live without you, Ash." Closing her eyes, she kissed each fingertip tasting her tears. "Please don't leave me. Please, Ash. Don't ever leave me. Please..." Blue eyes opened, Ashley's head was turned away from hers as she stared at the closed window. "T-they told me you were unresponsive. T-that y-you stare at the wall and nothing else." Her voice was hushed, heavy wth sadness. She reached out with a shaky touch, trailing her fingertips down her face once again. "Im going to take care of you Ash." Brown eyes closed, a single tear spilling out, caught by Spencer's caress. "My love, ill spend the rest of my life with you. You'll never be alone again."
The words were barely spoken but Spencer heard them as if the brunette had screamed them. Desperately, she moved to the fragile teenager sobbing into her neck as she held onto her for dear life. Her hands clutched tightly onto the sheets covering her love as she released an array of emotions. "I love you so much." She whispered through her tears kissing the skin nearest to her lips, she held the brunette closer to her needing the contact more than oxygen itself. "Please don't leave me." She was near panic lifting her head. "Please Ashley, I can't live without you. I-I c-can't-"
"I'm not going anywhere." Ashley spoke quietly, voice hoarse, eyes tired. Spencer moved to the bedside table grabbing the water she had brought in. She brought the bottle carefully to Ashley's lips, wiping away the few droplets on her chin. "Thank you." Ashley murmured as she settled back beside her.
As the tears subsidded, all she could do was lie there and stare at the brunette, watching the rise and fall of her chest. Thankful for each breath leaving her lungs, she reached out needing the contact. With one hand playing in her many curls, Spencer scooted closer to her, speaking softly near her ear. "I love you, Ashley Davies. My days without you have been meaningless and empty. I never want to spend another day without you again. I want to wake up with you, and fall asleep with you, and do everything in between with you. Would you like that?" She lifted her head peering down into Ashley's sad eyes. "Whats wrong? Am I hurting you?"
"No." Ashley stopped her from moving off the bed. "You're perfect." Spencer smiled dipping her head, she kissed the corner of her lips softly. Ashley met her gaze, "No." She stopped Spencer from kissing her lips, watching the hurt fill her eyes. "I wanted them to kill me, Spence." The tears came instantly, Ashley reached up and with all the energy she could muster wiped them away one by one. "I thought if I seemed brain dead they would just kill me. I want to die, Spence. I'm so fucking scared right now. I wish they would have never saved me. I wish I could have just died in your arms that night." Ashley moved her hands to her face and kept them that way for several long minutes.
Spencer could only watch moving her hand up and down her arm. "I love you, Ashley. You can't leave me alone. I- I would follow you. I don't want to live without you. No one can live without their heart."
Ashley removed her hands from her face and placed them on Spencer, urging her as close to her as possible. All of the equiment ignored, she held Spencer ontop of her urging her head down near her shoulder, she spoke nearly inaudibly into her ear. "Ive never been so afraid in my life. I-i fucked up bad, Spence. Ive fucked up really bad this time. I wish.. I wish you wouldnt have saved me, you should have let me die." She stopped speaking for several seconds just breathing softly, she sounded so tired, so very weak and tired. Spencer was about to stop her, and urge her to sleep, but Ashley continued before she had the chance. "Im pregnant, Spence."
The brunette staggared up the porch steps, leaning heavily against the door frame. Without thinking, she brought her hand up, knocking as hard as she could. She loved provoking the older woman late at night. The beating was seconds away and she wondered if her mother's new family would be there to see it. Angry by her own thoughts, she beat the door harder wanting to shatter the glass in the middle.
Falling forward, she fell into a warm body flinching as she felt it move. How her body wasn't used to it yet was beyond her, why it still feared a stilleto to the abdomen or an assault to her face angered her, she didn't want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing she still feared her. "I want them here." She commanded to the body holding her up. "I want them to watch you fuck me up. All of them, the whole fucking world."
"Shh, you'll wake her up." The light in the room came on and she found herself lying on silk sheets, staring at the high ceiling. The brunette was lost in reality, nothing made any sense. The drugs took her in and out of her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder why the blonde was removing her clothes when she should have been angry. "Let's get this on you."
"Stop." Ashley cupped the moist skin on her face, and began to worry. "What's wrong?" Her mind began racing and she tried desperately to remember the events of that night. "I didnt fuck her, Spence. I- I we just took a few hits but I didn't fuck her." The blue boring into her brown seemed sad, she didn't like it and felt helpless to change them.
Loud cries abrupted from down the hallway and Spencer disappeared. Ashley's unsteady gaze landed on the dresser. There were small clear glass bottles and packs of new syringes lining the wooden surface. There wasn't any guilt or shame as she stood up holding onto the bed. The unsteady steps didn't keep her still, she almost fell but caught herself on the dresser. She could hear voices down the hall. Spencer's playful cooing and a baby's soft laughter was the soundtrack playing in the background as she opened a fresh needle and a new jar.
With shaky fingers, she opened and closed drawers frantically searching for a tourniqet. She was beginning to feel frustrated and opened and slammed them more aggressively, falling to the floor she gave up. Too fucked up to know what she was doing anymore, she simply sat there and stared.
Their master bedroom was something out of a magazine article. From high above, she could recall having the best time decorating the room, decorating the whole house, with Spencer. They had the resources to buy whatever their hearts desired. She had just turned 18 and was given her father's fortune. With Spencer, she bought a house and with Spencer they filled it with precious things. Their lives were set, and they loved every second of every day. Ashley couldn't ask for a better life. "What the fuck am I doing?" There was no emotion in her voice, she was too high to feel awful. Too high to realize the figure standing at the open door way, too high to acknowledge the horror on her face. "I can't do this anymore." The months of hiding her drug use from Spencer had been exhausting and stressful. But now everything was out on the table, Spencer had found her heroine and laid it out for her to see. "Ow." She looked down and saw her hand drenched in blood. The floor around her was a complete disater, as if a tornado had come and ripped everything apart. Viles of her heroine laid shattered on the hardwood foor along with a couple of drawers, articles of clothing, pictures, and anything else on the dresser.
"I did this?" She asked out loud not remembering getting upset and taking her anger out on their posessions.
"Lets clean you up." Ashley's head snapped up toward the voice. Spencer kneeled down and helped her up, keeping her bleeding hand at a distance. She couldn't speak, what would she say? All she could do was stare watching the blonde take care of her. Her hands moved gently thoroughly cleaning her wound. "I'm sorry." She found her voice, and it was sad and desperate. "You take such good care of me." Her head fell forward resting onto Spencer's shoulder, inhaling deeply, she smiled at the scent of her hair. "Im so so sorry." Spencer returned the embrace holding her tightly, Ashley kissed the skin on her neck. "I want to make everything better."
The cooing in the bedroom captured her attention. "I want to see her. Could I please see her Spence?" The blonde pulled away leading her down the hall. They stopped at a white carriage in their bedroom. Big blue eyes met her brown and tiny lips lifted into a big smile at seeing her. "I'm going to pack tonight, Spence." She reached down and ran her fingers through a full head of brown curls. "I'm going to get better, im going to find a good rehab." She turned her head meeting Spencer's watery gaze. "I'm going to get better for you," She looked back down at the smiling 7 month old baby girl. "And for Pheonix."