Lost inside a soulless mind
by ICD

“I can give you what you want,” he murmurs against her ear.

“You don’t know what I want,” she growls back and leaves the elevator. She feels his eyes burn holes in her back, feels them slide up and down her frame and barely manages not to shiver.

*

Jarod is back, and even working - and how Lyle managed that she doesn’t even want to know or think of. It’s not as though she cares anyway.

Jarod is back and she’s still here, her - their - father going back on his promise.

You weren’t the one who brought him in; and on top of that, we need you, angel.

It doesn’t come as a surprise, but it’s still a blow that hurts. Not even him saying she’s needed soothes her, not now when she knows it’s just another manipulation.

She wants out, but can’t. Her world crumbles bit by bit, growing darker the longer it takes.

Now that Jarod is back, there’s nothing to keep her going - the white light of release at the end of the tunnel, the promise of freedom, suddenly blinking out as though someone flicked off the light switch.

She ignores it for as long as she can, burying herself in work during the day and drinking herself to oblivion at night; ignores Sydney’s words - you can’t go on like this, Parker., and also ignores the hushed whispers behind her back.

It’s simple, really. While you work, you don’t have time to look too closely at your life.

*

She can’t stand the general atmosphere at the Centre, everyone congratulating the other.

Sydney is happy to have his pet back, Lyle is happy about a rise within the ranks, Daddy is happy his position is safe again and Raines… who knows.

And she… she still wants out.

*

Time crawls by and she watches the minutes tick away, wants it to go faster, wants herself to age faster so her body can give up like her mind did and put her out of her misery - the alcohol might help in that.

(And they say cancer is a bitch but she doesn’t care about that either and she’ll refuse a liver they find her because of her family’s money)

There is little feeling left, merely numbness and she welcomes it. If she doesn’t feel anymore, nothing will register, nothing will matter.

It still does, but eventually that will fade too. She’s dying on the inside, slowly, gradually, but it doesn’t matter.

*

“We can make it work for us. They aren’t worthy of the positions they have,” he says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answers and leaves him standing in the hallway.

*

When she’s not passed out on her couch, memories start haunting her - things she’d rather forget or things that never seemed important before but startle her now.

In the end she drinks more to drown them, drown herself with them - at least until next morning when she gets up and goes to work and through the routine of the day: Get up, go to work, do what needs to be done, return home, drink and pass out on the couch.

It’s an endless circle, one she makes no move to break, because maybe it’s better this way. And if she tells herself often enough it doesn’t matter, maybe it will work.

*

“It’s time for a new generation to take over - and we are that new generation, Parker,” he whispers.

She remains silent.

*

It’s meeting Jarod in the elevator - and he’s not cuffed, nor does he put up any kind of struggle - that make the final piece crumble in her.

He watches her and his eyes are dead - as dead as hers. She waits for the flicker of something in them, but it never comes.

“Never trust anyone, Parker, most of all the people you admire. They will make you suffer the worst,” he says calmly when the doors open and he moves past her.

She’s not sure what he means, but it doesn’t matter.

She rides up and down with the elevator for an unknown amount of time. No one takes a second glance at her. Her reputation has long since faded and even the whispers about her are dying down.

*

She goes to Lyle the next day.

She doesn’t trust him, but then again even if she did, there aren’t enough feelings left in her for her to suffer anymore. She’s hollow; a shell only functioning because she follows routine.

Even if she doesn’t trust him, she allows herself to believe in his promises; promises of unity and blissful silence.

He obviously knows how to get to her but she doesn’t care, instead gives in when he pushes her against the wall in his office, his hands resting on her hips, holding her steady before hiking up her skirt.

The kisses are bruising and his thrusts forceful but she can feel them, feel something, and it’s enough for her to come back for more.

*

She sits next to him on the throne after everything’s done and the new generation is in charge.

She’s still hollow, but she feels enough to be and doesn’t care about the rest.

Most of us see their own lives fall apart so slowly we barely notice it; she noticed - and stopped fighting it, giving in and taking what little life still had to offer.

*

She doesn’t see Jarod again; Lyle makes sure she doesn’t. She’s not sure why, but not sure she should - or can - care either.

Lyle keeps her close - maybe he keeps her to himself, and that’s a thought. He could have so much more than a broken, fragmented shell (dead Asian girls)… but maybe this is what he wants after all. At least he can’t break anything further. He might try and repair it, model it to a piece of his liking.

She wants to break away, wants someone to tell her she’ll make it and be happy, but just can’t be bothered. She long since learned to stop dreaming.

Fairytales aren’t for her taking.

So she takes the next best thing, reaching for whatever little feeling that sparks when Lyle’s moving against her - pain, pleasure, satisfaction, anything really, as long as it’s there, momentarily replacing the emptiness.

And she even listens to his promises - “I’ll make sure you’re happy.” - and tries not to wonder what that is.

*