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Fractured By Cascade Category: vignette/snapshot Rating: PG-13 (prolly overrated for angst) Pairings: none at the time of the story Disclaimers: The characters belong to Steve and Craig; the lyrics belong to Evanescence; whatever flaws there are belong solely to me and my unwell-and- more-addled-than-usual brain.

I'm so tired of being here

Ah, how I miss you, how I need you, now more than ever. It feels like a million years since I last saw you, since I touched your hand and heard your voice; I know it's been a million years since you smiled at me and I knew that everything would be okay. I've spent so long being alone, being afraid, so sure that everything that goes wrong is my fault. And it is. I know it is. I've never been good enough; if I had been a good girl, you would still be here and it wouldn't matter that I'm only half a person. I've always known that. The difference is that I'm not whining about it anymore. I'm not feeling sorry for myself; I don't have the energy. It's all been sucked out of me. If you could hear me, you wouldn't believe I could sound so flat. I'm tired--tired of hurting people I love, tired of being wrong all the time, tired of filling my body with nothing sustaining and everything that just makes me sick, tired of watching everyone who matters to me disappear and knowing that I am the common factor. I'm just. tired.

Suppressed by all of my childish fears

I'm even too tired to be afraid anymore. I don't know what else there is for me to fear. Pain? I've learned that whatever happens, my pain is insignificant compared to the agony that grips other people, good people-- people like you, who deserve all the best the world has to offer and instead are always being thrown the worst. Loneliness? I've lived with that for so long that it's become a fixture, not a friend but a comfortable familiarity, like the iron mask that hides the prisoner from the world. Death? I have come so close to dying so many times in the last few years that it would almost be a relief to get it over with; how twisted does that sound?

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

But then, that's me, right? Twisted. Oh, why couldn't I have been more like you? Life would have been so much easier for everyone, so much less painful and frustrating, if I hadn't been me. If there had never been me. I know the story; we both know that I wasn't supposed to happen. And that's okay. I can deal with that. I just don't know how I, or anyone else, can deal with me.

Because your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

They tell me that I look just like you, that I could be a carbon copy of you. But carbon copies are thin and dark and dirty. They stain everything they touch, their only purpose is to remind their owner of a price paid, and they fall apart at the slightest trauma. Is that what I am? Is that what you'd want me to be? Because I think that's what I am. I think that's all I can be. I try so hard not to fall apart when things get rough, but in the end I always do--in private, in secret, where no one can see or hear or wonder, where no one can see that the little girl in me has been dead for decades but she still lies there, cold and still, deep down in my core, small and unfinished but still the most complete I've ever been- -or ever will be.

These wounds won't seem to heal

Oh, why did you have to be the one to die? Why couldn't it have been me that day, a stupid selfish girl, a brief mediocre life extinguished in an instant, while you lived and smiled and taught and made those you loved believe in happily ever after? I have hurt these people so much, not just with my thoughtless words or my impulsiveness born of anger, but simply by existing, by walking around with your eyes and your hair and your voice, constantly reminding them that their real angel is dead and in her place is only a pale shadow of her, a girl who hasn't earned the gift of life. They call me angel because when they see me they need to remember that there used to be something good, something worthwhile in this face, that part of you is still here with them. But lately they've stopped calling me angel, stopped calling me anything, just turning away when they see me, and I know that somehow I've made them bleed again.

This pain is just too real

I used to think that as I grew it would change, that I would change, that I would become my own person or maybe just not become at all, and then it would all be okay for them again. Then they wouldn't have to see me and think about how you were taken from them--then the family could be whole again, the way it was meant to be. There are still times when I'm sure this is all just a bad dream, that I'll wake up and I'll be a little girl again, with you by my side, teaching me, protecting me, comforting me--you, so much more than family, my best friend. Did you know that you were my strength? Did you know that you were my hope, my faith, everything I wanted to be? It was always you and me, together. But then I open my eyes and reality dies--and the nightmare takes hold once again.

There's just too much that time cannot erase

You know what's strange? All my life I've been the outward image of you, your beauty paled in me, your spirit reflected in my eyes. But now as I look in the mirror I realize that I no longer look exactly like you. These last few weeks I've changed. I'm thinner, paler than I used to be, the lines of my face standing out more harshly than yours ever could, my eyes now gray and shadowed. My hair doesn't shine anymore; nothing shines now. The darkest parts of it are fading, and that curl at the very end is falling flat. I look at my own reflection and I don't see you anymore. I look for you, but I can't find you. You're disappearing. When I was little, when you were still here, I used to take for granted all that you did for me, but now you're not here, and I'm not sure if I can learn to do it for myself. How I wish that I'd been even a little of a help to you.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I've held your hand through all of these years

But you still have all of me

You're starting to vanish, been fading for years, but it's me who's not here. Do you think it shows? Do you think they can see that behind this mask there is only emptiness? I've tried to convince everyone, even me, that I am my own woman, that I can do everything myself, that I don't need anyone. It's a lie. I need you. You were the only one who knew me. Do you still know me? Do you remember me the way I remember you? Would you want to know me now?

You used to captivate me

By your resonating light

Whatever happens, your legacy will always be flawless, perfect, pure. Did you know that your very name means purity? If you put your names together, it means pure light. It's so beautiful that even thinking about it reminds me of you.

But now I'm bound by the life you left behind

But I am not pure, and I am not filled with light. I was smudged long ago, and I will never be pure again. And I have lost the light. Can I find it again without you?

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams

Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Look at me, standing here, talking to you as if you're here with me. Wouldn't they think I'm crazy? Wouldn't the whole world think I'm crazy?

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

But I know someone who wouldn't think that. He wouldn't think I'm crazy. Like me, he is fractured, but unlike me, he is setting himself and learning to function. He's spent his whole life running from those who claim him as a possession, searching for a family he was told didn't exist. So when he began to find them, one by one, something started to shift, and now I can see it in his eyes every time he lets me near--with each family member found, with each piece of the puzzle put into place, he becomes a little stronger, a little more real, a little more complete. He still has a long way to go on his quest, but even I have come to know that there is no stopping him, no taking him back to that life. Time cannot heal his wounds, but time is all he needs to gather a life for himself, the life he should have had, and he uses that time to help heal the wounds of others. Even as I scorn his optimism, I am in awe of him, for he started with less of himself than I had of me, and he has gone about making himself the man he believes he was meant to be. I know now that no matter how long or hard I work, I can never catch up to him. More than that, I want him to succeed; I need to know that the darkness can be overcome by the light--and I need to know that someone I have touched can survive undamaged by my clumsy attempts to relate. I couldn't wish for anything less than that; you see, I love him.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I've held your hand through all of these years

And that is why I cannot go after him. He's gone, gone from me, perhaps forever, but I had a little time with him, here and there, and that will have to be enough. I know now that he can never imagine forever with me, but he does care for me in some way, and that will have to be enough. I have grown in his presence, cleansed myself in his innocence and armed myself with his determination, I have become less self-centered and more compassionate because of him, and that will have to be enough. I cannot call him mine, but perhaps I can call on his memory to get me through the battle ahead. It was he who showed me that my destiny was not sealed, he who convinced me to change sides and to fight the darkness living inside of me. I don't know how long I can keep fighting, how long before it overtakes me, but I have to fight. I can't go on being just a shadow; I'm too exhausted to do nothing.

But you still have all of me

Did you know that my name means life, and a gift from God? I've never been a gift to anyone, not really. I haven't been alive for so long that I've forgotten what it feels like. I'm not sure I know how to be alive; you're not here to show me. But he also taught me that life itself is a gift and that we have to treasure and use all of it that we have. You were a treasure, so once again I turn to you for guidance. One thing I know about you is that you were always yourself and that was enough for you and for everyone else. So as I stand in front of this mirror, I am taking off my mask, revealing to myself for the first time in years the part of me that still exists, and for once daring to wonder if I can be more than I am.

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone

And though you're still with me

Whatever happens, whether I see you soon or lose you completely, I will always love you with whatever of me there is. Maybe tomorrow I'll be back, talking to you all over again; maybe tomorrow I'll be dead, spending eternity trying to get to where you are. Maybe this will all happen again. But this morning I said a prayer for the first time in years, and I'm starting to think that maybe there really is someone out there waiting to answer. For today, for this day, I am going to go out without my mask, without my stone face and cold eyes and false laughter; I am going to try to find out who I am, who I am supposed to be, who I can be, whether partial or whole. I'm going to go find me. I love you, and you will always be part of me somehow, but I can't be you. No matter how hard I tried, I never could be you. Maybe there is more of me out there somewhere. Maybe there is more of me hidden inside my shell, a part of myself that I haven't dared to seek until now. Maybe I am now all that I ever will be, but Katie, I have to find out. I have to know.

I've been alone all along

I have to become me, to be the life for which I was named. And that will have to be enough.









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