Post by Prue Katrina Sawyer on Aug 12, 2010 13:04:50 GMT -5
SOMETIMES I WISH I COULD TAKE BACK EVERYTHING
I'D BE EASIER TO NEVER HAVE KNOWN YOU, I WOULD SPARE MYSELF SO MUCH PAIN
I'D BE EASIER TO NEVER HAVE KNOWN YOU, I WOULD SPARE MYSELF SO MUCH PAIN
As the blood rushed from the small cuts, she bit her lip, watching it. Her brilliant hazel eyes gazed on at her hand. She didn't know what to do, this time it wasn't her fault. She looked down at the shards of glass that were scattered across the floor. This was excellent, perfect for the day. Her hardwood floors were being tainted by not just her blood but by her paints. You see, this girl is a cutter, so the scars that line her arms are because she doesn't handle emotional pain well, but that has nothing to do with the cuts that are brand new, lining her hand and arm. she was also completely and utter clumsy. She doesn't mean to be, and thinking back to when she went shopping for the new place, a table with an all glass top was probably not the best idea. She could feel the pain coarse through her arm, and knees, as she looked around for a rag that wouldn't cause an infection. Most her rags had paint of some sort on them. She was a painter, it wasn't her fault. It was the main reason she bought them anyway. She didn't really want to move, and risk getting blood all over the floor, since she really couldn't afford to replace the small portion that she had wrecked already. But, really, that wasn't the only thing on her mind.[/color]Colby Nichols(teresa)
What she was really thinking about the last she felt this. The pain of her skin being cut, and the blood making its way out from underneath. She had gotten off the phone with her boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend. He had moved away, taking one of the only things that meant anything to her, with him, though to be a good father, it seems he would have had to. He's a dad, and has been since high school, so it wasn't just a recent thing. Only problem, she has known the little girl since she was a few months old, and she felt like the mother, even if she knew she wasn't. It felt like he had just ripped apart a family, by leaving, rather than just breaking up with her. Breaking up is something she handles just fine, because there is always someone else out there, right? But there was not another person out there with a baby as sweet as Kelsie, that made her want to throw away her life, to save her, if a situation where that came into play ever happened. There is no one else out there that, even when she's not home, makes her feel like she's at home. Colby and Kelsie were her family. It didn't matter what anyone tried to tell her, she knew that for sure, and when those words left his lips, "I just need some space, Prue. I'll talk t you soon." her heart broke apart, somewhat like the coffee table she just went through did. And so, she went back to her old ways, sneaking around with drugs, and worst of all, razors. They were usually her escape, just the way that they helped her forget about what was really hurting by bring pain to a physical front. Only problem, she cut too deep, let it bleed too long. Thank the lord she still lived with her mother and step-father. Her mom found her, rushed her away to the hospital. That was the first day her mother was confronted with the horrid truth, her daughter was sick.
Well, here she was, about a year later, and cleaned up. She hated to think about those days now, well other than the baby girl she feels she lost, and the guy that can't be replaced, even if she tried. She still thinks about them all the time, in fact, she has millions of papers and canvases covered with their smiles, their eyes, them. Sure she threw most of them out after a while, thinking she should rid her mind of them, but at least painting became her escape from pain. If anything ever happened, she would just paint, not really painting anything in particular, but always ending up with something of them. Usually it was Keslie smiling, because that was when Prue was happiest. And here Prue is now, getting prepared to see the things that make her happier than anything else, and she's back to the day that she lost them. Only this time, she didn't intentionally hurt herself. Damn this table for have looking so adorable in the store. Finally though, she found the thing she was searching for, that one clean rag she knew she had somewhere. Wrapping up her hand and arm inside it, she pulled her phone out, calling Colby. She had to call him, she was going to be a little late.
"Colby, it's Prue. I'm going to be a little late today.
I kind of had, an accident while getting ready this morning.
Lets just say, more scars are going to be added to my collection...
only this time...it's all because of a damn table. Really,
i have no idea what I was thinking when I bought it. I have a knack
of falling. I'm heading over to get the glass removed and possibly
get stitches. Just, call me back when you get this, If i'm not there already."
She left a message in his voice mail for him, glad she didn't have to completely explain everything. Grabbing a sweater to put on after everything about her arm is taken care of. And off she went, getting into that same car she's had since she was about fifteen. The one that she and her dad had worked to fix up while he was still alive. Over to the hospital, where she really never wanted to be. She passed the street she should be turning down, but she had to get her hand checked first. After all, her career was based on how well she could hold a pencil or paint brush. She got there without any problems, glad she finally gave up her other habit, which would be speeding through red lights. She never got caught before, but also never got hurt, which is the reason she had once been doing it. Now, she drove like a sane person would. She drove carefully, stopping at red lights, and stop signs, used a turn signal when turning, everything you should do when you drive. She was growing up, finally. She let her hand carefully flick the turn signal now, as she made her way into the parking lot of the hospital. She sighed a little, looking at it, getting a little mad at herself for everything she ever did to her body. Parking, she walked in and smiled to some of the people there. "Uh, fell through a glass table?" She laughed out, holding up her hand, while the nurse, one who knew her well since last year, when she was here for her "accident" eyed her suspiciously. The woman raised an eyebrow, and took her back away from the waiting room. She removed the rag, spotting glass pieces in her hand and arm. Yeah, she couldn't be trusted when it came to things like this, she understood. She was made to fill the paperwork out while she sat on a bed in the emergency room. Clean up was easy, and stitches were not needed, though a gauze and plenty of care would be. Now, on her way to Colby's.
She knocked carefully on the door to the apartment she knew too well, and missed going to. She remembered all the good times in there, and though she wanted to tear up because she knew that nothing would be like that again, she couldn't, not here. And anyway, she could hear a voice, her favorite one, getting closer and closer to the door. She was suppose to take Kelsie to the park for Colby, so he could unpack without her getting into everything and making a bigger mess. She loved that he was letting her do that. Charlize called it playing house, and she always disagreed, because she didn't want to just pretend that they were a family. In her heart, all she wanted was for there to be a ring on her finger, and a wedding ceremony with Kelsie tossing flowers everywhere, and all their friends and family members there to celebrate her dream coming true. She wanted the most amazing guy to be her husband, and she wanted to be the mom to a little girl who needed one that was actually there. She smiled now, as the door started to open up, and waved with her hand that wasn't bandaged up. Sure, it was stained with her paints, which she had tried to scrub off her hands all last night, without any luck. She had her hair longer now, and well, not as curly, though she went back and forth between the two styles she did well.
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Word Count:[/color]1509
Outfit:[/color]click this
Lyrics:[/color]wrong man for the job-jojo
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