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Disclaimer: I do not own The Pretender or anything related to it. It is the property of Craig and Steve, TNT, and NBC. The song lyrics are from Fine Again by Seether. The quote is from Dean Koontz's Odd Thomas. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Author's Note: I love my muse. Whoever or whatever she/he/it is, I love it.
Summary: On her.
Fine Again
by: chopsticks
g
-----
It seems like every day is the same
And I'm left to discover on my own
It seems like everything is gray
And there's no color to behold
They say it's over and I'm fine again, yeah
Try to stay sober feels like I'm dying again
-----
So fake.
So unreal.
She lives in a dream world, and I can't help her.
I've known her for most of my life. Yet I don't really know her. I used to know her, when we were children. She allowed herself to be who she really is. But now...
Now she is someone else entirely, and I can barely tell if there are any vestiges of the little girl I once knew living underneath that cold, hard, unbreakable exterior.
No, not unbreakable.
It's fragile, though she doesn't realize that. She alienates those around her, protecting her inner self, but she doesn't realize she's only harming herself. For every broken friendship leaves its mark on that icy surface, and I can tell there are small cracks that are beginning to form. Small, minute cracks that she probably isn't even aware of. And slowly, oh-so-slowly, they are crumbling her shell.
So she does the only thing she knows.
She pulls away; makes the shell even stronger than before. She thinks she has control. Hell, she even looks it. But inside she is falling apart, an uncontrolled emotional train wreck.
Her phone is off and all I get on the house phone is the answering machine. She's probably unplugged the phone.
After this latest betrayal--or perceived betrayal, just as potent as the real thing--she has closed up within herself, trying desperately to maintain in control of all the broken pieces. She doens't eat, doesn't sleep, works out excessively, smokes excessively, and drinks excessively when she gets like this.
I fear for her health.
She does not.
She doesn't know (or perhaps she does, making the concept all the more terrifying), but right now it would be so easy for her to let go and just give in; allow herself to break completely.
She doesn't.
Her self-preservation is remarkable. She will drink herself into a stupor and go through a carton of cigarrettes in two days (The weekend, for she must work again on Monday.), but she will not allow herself to break.
She uses a quote for inspiration, tacked onto the corkboard above her desk.
Even little dreams can't come true unless you persevere.
She has many dreams, this I know. There are still remnants of the child I once knew left in her.
She perseveres.
Another crack is added to the armor.
She walks into work Monday like nothing's wrong. She does this because nothing is wrong.
She's fine again.
Always fine.
But still I fear for her.
-----
I am prepared now
Seems everyone’s gonna be fine
One day too late, just as well
I am prepared now,
Seems everything’s gonna be fine for me
-----
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com.
Author's Note: I love my muse. Whoever or whatever she/he/it is, I love it.
Summary: On her.
by: chopsticks
g
-----
It seems like every day is the same
And I'm left to discover on my own
It seems like everything is gray
And there's no color to behold
They say it's over and I'm fine again, yeah
Try to stay sober feels like I'm dying again
So fake.
So unreal.
She lives in a dream world, and I can't help her.
I've known her for most of my life. Yet I don't really know her. I used to know her, when we were children. She allowed herself to be who she really is. But now...
Now she is someone else entirely, and I can barely tell if there are any vestiges of the little girl I once knew living underneath that cold, hard, unbreakable exterior.
No, not unbreakable.
It's fragile, though she doesn't realize that. She alienates those around her, protecting her inner self, but she doesn't realize she's only harming herself. For every broken friendship leaves its mark on that icy surface, and I can tell there are small cracks that are beginning to form. Small, minute cracks that she probably isn't even aware of. And slowly, oh-so-slowly, they are crumbling her shell.
So she does the only thing she knows.
She pulls away; makes the shell even stronger than before. She thinks she has control. Hell, she even looks it. But inside she is falling apart, an uncontrolled emotional train wreck.
Her phone is off and all I get on the house phone is the answering machine. She's probably unplugged the phone.
After this latest betrayal--or perceived betrayal, just as potent as the real thing--she has closed up within herself, trying desperately to maintain in control of all the broken pieces. She doens't eat, doesn't sleep, works out excessively, smokes excessively, and drinks excessively when she gets like this.
I fear for her health.
She does not.
She doesn't know (or perhaps she does, making the concept all the more terrifying), but right now it would be so easy for her to let go and just give in; allow herself to break completely.
She doesn't.
Her self-preservation is remarkable. She will drink herself into a stupor and go through a carton of cigarrettes in two days (The weekend, for she must work again on Monday.), but she will not allow herself to break.
She uses a quote for inspiration, tacked onto the corkboard above her desk.
Even little dreams can't come true unless you persevere.
She has many dreams, this I know. There are still remnants of the child I once knew left in her.
She perseveres.
Another crack is added to the armor.
She walks into work Monday like nothing's wrong. She does this because nothing is wrong.
She's fine again.
Always fine.
But still I fear for her.
I am prepared now
Seems everyone’s gonna be fine
One day too late, just as well
I am prepared now,
Seems everything’s gonna be fine for me
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com.
