Triggering (SI) - story-many installments, still has no name though :-P
probably god awful but the first thing I've enjoyed writing since Blood Promise so, here it is:
Eloise
“Eloise….Ellie? Are you there? I can feel you. I know you are there. Talk to me, please? I’m so lonely. I’m so very, very lonely…” A fragile, elderly woman tosses in her sleep. Her bones crackle and groan under the weight of age, and her skin, stretched taut over the creaky limbs, is, every inch of it, scarred. ‘My battle scars’ she joked to somebody who dared to ask. An elusive answer. No one asked again. “Ellie…please. Please? Just tell me you miss me, let me know you’re there…I’m so alone.” The old, fatigued eyes flicker open for a moment, the shadow of a figure glances her retinas, then she closes the tired lids, and drifts back to her dreams. “Please, oh please Ellie please…”
“Miss Gregory? Miss Gregory are you in there?” Two sharp wraps on the door below. Eloise Gregory summons all her strength and staggers out of bed towards her cane, and makes her way slowly, painfully, down the stairs. The nurse, new by the looks of things, greets her as one would greet a child at the door, asking where mummy is. Another young, living, breathing, vibrant body, sent to check that Miss Gregory is still alive enough to answer the door. Eloise smiles to herself. Grasping beggars, she thinks. Can’t wait to get their hands on my house and my money.
“I’m Nessa,” the nurse informs her charge, stepping through the doorway without pausing for permission. “Oh what a lovely house Miss Gregory!” They all say that. Eloise would trade it all, every stick of furniture in the place, for one moment of their innocent youth, and sound body. She thinks about informing the intruder, Nessa, Vanessa, whatever her name is, of this fact. She decides instead that she is far too tired. Easing herself into an armchair and indicating the one opposite for Nessa to sit, she closes her eyes, breathing deeply into rattling lungs.
“Shall I make some tea and breakfast for you Miss Gregory? Before our check up? These things are worse on an empty stomach.” Nessa wanders through to the kitchen, neat bob of brown hair bouncing as she walks, without waiting for an answer. “I’m so honoured to finally meet you,” she chatters. “I’ve studying two of your books in university, and your take on the mind and human history are astounding-so cutting edge, even now!” Everybody says that too. It becomes wearisome after a while, but Eloise doesn’t care. She decided, approximately five years ago, that she was far too old to care.
Nessa returns with tea and a round of toast, and they chat as Eloise nibbles delicately at the bread, pausing to swallow with some difficulty, washing the bites down with sips of lukewarm tea. Why was everybody so afraid to make her tea at a decent temperature? She hasn’t had a decent cup of tea in years, that she hasn’t slowly, grudgingly made herself. Then the check up. Glands, blood pressure, chest, bad leg. When it comes to blood pressure, Nessa asks if Eloise could roll her sleeve back for her. Patiently, she does so, and catches a sharp intake of breath, not uncommon in youngsters, at the sight of her mutilated old arm. “May I ask?” says Nessa conversationally, as she wraps the band around Eloise’s fragile arm.
“My battle scars.” The old standby. Subconsciously, the old woman brings her right hand up to stroke the upper arm on her left. Her secret was safe. Always safe. She fingers the hidden indents, tears in the skin, the newly knitted together flesh. Nessa notices. Eloise, could you roll up your sleeve a little further for me please? First name. Alarm bells clang in Eloise’s tired brain. “Why?” It comes out more defensive than she means it too.
“Just to check everything is as it should be.” What a bare faced lie. Nessa reaches over, and begins to, gently, roll Eloise’s sleeve up herself. She considers resisting but…what would that accomplish. Instead, she sits perfectly still, as her secret world unravels. As her shame is unveiled before prying eyes; after all these years…
Last edited by Buttons. : 11-02-2008 at 01:11 PM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
<33 katy rocks my socks off :D
i want more *throws strop*
:P
“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
I actually don't like this installment much at all but I thought I'd put it up and let you make up your own minds. if it's awful please tell me so that I can change/rewrite it
Nessa
First day and she was late. sh*t, sh*t, sh*t. Nessa Parks scrambled round for boots, keys, and a piece of fruit to eat while she drove. She yelled goodbye to her fiancée, pauses for a non forthcoming reply, then rushed on. Sh*t! She jammed the key into the car and pulled recklessly out of the drive, narrowly missing next door’s cat. It mewed pitifully and she yelled out of her open window for it to shut up. It didn’t. She drover on.
Arriving at the clinic that housed her and her colleagues’ office Nessa whirled into the room, out of breath and stressed to the limit. And that is when Angie appeared. “Morning all,” she called cheerfully, unwinding her long scarf. “Who have I got this morning? She checked the wipe board. “Oh good lord not Mrs Harris, anyone but her,” she moaned theatrically. She turned, and noticed the frozen Nessa, unsure of herself and the consequences of her lateness. “You must be Nessie,” greeted Angie warmly. Nessa bit her tongue. Now was not the time for name corrections. She nodded uncertainly.
“Welcome. Well your name is up on the board, and your patients for today are written up in order next to it. You can find their files in the cabinets behind the desks, and you know the drill for once you’re out there. Invite yourself in, make a cup to tea, do the check up, get out before they start there WW2 stories. Piece of cake.” Nessa stared at this whirlwind of energy and information. “Well come on then, we haven’t got all day-geriatrics to keep ticking you know!”
With that, and a flurry of files, she was gone. Nessa breathed deeply, then sat herself down at the only clutter free desk, to gather her thoughts. A few moments passed. “I’d get a move on if I were you; Angie may seem warm and cuddly, but if you don’t get your visits done she’s a regular dragon.” The imparter of this wisdom was a tall, regal looking woman, with curly red hair tied tightly back, and a spotless uniform. “Who’ve you got first then?” she asked, without looking up from her file. Nessa checked the board. “Eloise Gregory apparently,” she said.
“Not bad. Used to be famous you know, wrote a ton of books. Interviewed on every topic known to man.” The penny dropped.
“I remember her! She wrote the books that I used in my lectures at uni!”
“Best get going then,” said the woman cattily. “Mustn’t keep your university book chum waiting.” Nessa turned her head slightly at the note of sarcasm in the woman’s voice, but decided to ignore it. Opening the filing cabinet she flicked through until she found the right file. Settling herself more comfortably, she skimmed through…slight history of heart problems, controlled with medication, arthritis, muscle damage in the left leg. Nothing particularly unusual. Nessa picked up her belongings again and headed out the door. “Good luck,” called the woman at the next desk. Nessa left with the distinct impression she meant the opposite…
Last edited by Buttons. : 04-02-2008 at 12:23 AM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
Eloise
She waits, in trembling anticipation, hoping that the girl arrives, but at the same time hoping she doesn’t. This young woman knows her secret, and, thus, it feels to Eloise, holds her tired old heart in the palm of her hand. A rap on the door. Staggering upwards, she shambles over to the door, unlocks it, and stands back to let Nessa in. Nessa seats herself in Eloise’s living room, after helping her to sit herself, then leans forward.
“Listen, Eloise,” she says gently. “I’ve only met you once, but I really care about you already, ok? And I want to help you, and get you access to people who can help you better than me, after what I saw yesterday. But to do that we need to have a good long talk about what’s been going on, how long it’s been happening, and whether you actually want help with it-because that is, at the end of the day, your decision.”
After a pause, while she digests this information, Eloise nods. “Would you mind if I wrote some things down? Just so that I don’t forget anything?” A shake of the head. “Ok.” Nessa takes a deep, nervous breath. “So, can you tell me when you started self harming?”
Last edited by Buttons. : 04-02-2008 at 12:23 AM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
Nessa
“Christ almighty,” Nessa muttered under her breath, cleaning and dressing the many gaping wounds screaming at her from the wrinkled brown flesh of her patient’s arm. She had seen wounds like these many a time before in her profession, but never so many on one area, and never self inflicted. How much hurt would a person have to feel to do that to themselves? When she finished she rocked back on her heels, taking in the wizened old face, and the misty, haunted eyes. Why had nobody noticed this earlier? Nessa mentally kicked the national health system.
After talking a while longer, she left, reluctant to admit to herself how eager she was to escape the palpable pain in the house. Barely down the driveway she tugged her cigarettes from her pocket and lit up, taking long, desperate drags in an attempt to stop her hands from trembling. Recovered slightly, she walked to her car, dizzy from the sudden rush of nicotine, slid into the driver’s seat and checked her next file. Mr and Mrs Woodgrove. Both in their eighties, Mr Woodgrove battled chronic arthritis to look after his wife; suffering from Alzheimer’s.
With a sigh she pushed the car into gear and drove off towards the Woodgrove’s. This was going to be a cheerful first day, she just had one of those warm, fuzzy feelings.
Last edited by Buttons. : 04-02-2008 at 12:25 AM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ – Oscar Wilde
‘It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.’ Sydney Carter
“The good things don’t always soften the bad, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”
“Nobody important? Blimey, that’s amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.”
“If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
