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A/N – This is my first fanfic ever…in any category. Any mistakes within are all my own. Now, on with the show.

 

The Darkness of Despair

by DOTLP

 

I can hear them approaching my cell door and hear the soft metallic click as they use a key to open the door. Ouch!! The light is so bright it hurts my eyes. My hand quickly reaches up to shade my eyes from this assault. It's no wonder considering how they have me locked up like a wild animal in the dark. My eyes slowly adjust to the intensity of the light and I see one of the Centre's mindless goons aiming a gun at me while another removes my tray of food and replaces it with another. Not a word is spoken during this brief period. The only time I have contact with another human being (Raines and his goons shouldn't even be considered human beings) who isn't sticking needles in me and making my life a living hell never speaks a word to me. Not that I want them to. At least if they said something I'd know they weren't completely mindless. They exit the way they came, locking the door again.

I don't touch the food. Never touch it. They might put something in it to make me co-operate or to kill me. I won't co-operate with them or die by their hands!! I won't!! I tug at the grey shirt and pants I'm wearing. Always the same kind of clothes to stifle my imagination, harness my creative juices. After this tirade despair sets in; always after I receive my food and return to the darkness within these walls.

My eyes re-adjust to the darkness. There is a small glass window in the door, about five inches each side. That lets in a little light, but not enough.

            My energy is low and I settle myself on the mattress they have so generously provided. Not even a bed. Too many parts I can use for my escape. My whole body feels tired; my soul even more so. Sleep begins to descend. In that limbo between dream and reality it all comes back to me; each time I try to close my eyes.

 

I hear the whir of the chopper's blades, followed by a gunshot and see her fall. I become oblivious to everything, even the hated members of the Centre. Nothing else is important now: not my dad, not my clone, not if she isn't alive and well. I rush over to her limp form.

I try to staunch the flow of blood, but soon realise it is impossible: the wound is too deep and she has already lost too much. So instead, I do the only thing I can: I lift her upper body into a semi-sitting position. I can still feel the curve of her body as I cradle her in my arms at the airport; her blue eyes open and looking into mine. I saw fear, pain, disgust, outrage and...love...for me, even after all I put her through. I hear her shallow breaths and feel her fingers curl around the fabric of my shirt. She moves her mouth, trying to speak. "Hush now Miss Parker, don't try to speak," I say, my voice cracking with emotion. Her beautiful blue eyes show her strong resolve to tell me whatever it is she feels she has to. This time I let her.

"Jarod," she says feebly, reaching up with her hand and placing it on my cheek. My hand immediately follows, finding a place upon her soft but cold hands, keeping it securely to my face. "I never...wanted it to...end like...this," she said, a bout of coughing racking her body after each few precious words causing her to pause. "I'm sorry I...chased you...but...I had...no choice. I have always...loved you, but...our positions...well, you...know what they are," she continued, trying to add a little humour to her hopeless situation.

"I love you. I've loved you ever since that day I first saw you in the sim lab. Why do you think I always try to show you the horrible things the Centre did and still do? I never wanted to hurt you with those painful memories from the past about your mother, but I had to show you," I hastily add, knowing that soon she will leave me all alone here. "I...I don't want to live without you," I continue, tears evident in the tremor in my voice. My face falls to the crook of her neck, her hand still on my cheek, my hot tears falling and soaking her skin. I feel a slight pressure on my face. I move my face a few inches away from her, just enough to see into her eyes. She slowly brings my lips to touch hers. It is the sweetest, gentlest kiss I have ever had. I can't help but think how lucky I am to have won her heart, her trust. I kiss her forehead and gently place one on her lips. It doesn't matter who sees us. They can't do anything about it. I remove my lips from hers, already missing its feel, and look into her eyes. "Do you know how much I love you?" I whisper, willing my tears to stay at bay.

She wraps her arms tightly around my neck, bringing my face into contact with her soft sweet-scented hair. I hear her whisper weakly' "I love you Jarod." The pressure I feel around my neck is now gone. I move her body away from mine to look into her eyes only to discover what I feared the most.

"Nooo!" I wail, and quickly but gently lay her on the runway. I shake her in a desperate attempt to bring her back although I know it is useless. I break down in sobs, lowering my body to cover her torso. Suddenly, I feel strong hands on my shoulders and look up. It's none other than Lyle and one of his goons.

"Your date with "Sis" is over now," he smoothly says, contempt evident in his voice. "Welcome back to the Centre." He has another sweeper come and they drag me off to the Centre. I don't even put up a fight. All I can do is look at Miss Parker's prone body grow smaller and smaller each step they take, dragging me with them.

 

My eyes quickly fly open. I know I never slept, never will be able to sleep again. I killed her. If I hadn't kidnapped her father she wouldn't have followed trying to save his pathetic life. I sit up and prop my back against the wall near my 'bed'. It feels cold and soothes my body. I get up and stroll around my room for the first time in days. My limbs are asleep causing me to wobble. I notice a mirror hanging on the wall. There is just enough light that I can make out images in it.

Standing in front of it, I cringe at the sight I meet. I look deathly pale and have lost weight. My face is gaunt. My mind wanders back to Miss Parker. I miss her terribly: the way her lips felt against mine, the way her body fit snugly with mine as if we were two parts of the same puzzle. I can see her beautiful face and wish desperately that she were alive. Even if she were chasing me, trying to drag me back to this place, I would give anything just to be able to see her.

I now know why I always loved leaving her clues, why I sometimes stayed back at a lair, hiding, watching her every move and hearing her voice. I now know what made me call her all those late nights. I just wanted to hear her sweet voice. How could I not have realised it then? I loved her. Not the love between a brother and sister, but the love many people search for and never find.

Once again, the Centre has had a hand in my life. Everyone I ever loved has fallen prey to the Centre. They took me away from my parents, stole my brother's life, and now have finally managed to break my spirit by removing the last, most important person in my life: Miss Parker.

I can still see her body jerk when she jumped in front of that bullet meant for Mr. Parker. If I hadn't kidnapped her father, she wouldn't have had cause to be out there and wouldn't have died.  I killed her, I killed her, I killed her. It's my fault she died. I would give anything to be with her. This is unbearable. If I knew she were alive and well, I would have been out of here in no time. I can hardly think now. I have no reason.

I stare at the mirror again. I think I see her face and turn around immediately, coming face to face with the darkness. I turn around and place my hands on the mirror. It shifts slightly and I make to remove it from its place on the wall. I have an idea. I kneel down quickly with my newly gained treasure. Applying pressure to it with my knee, I break a piece off. The crack isn't loud enough to draw attention from the sweeper.

My situation no longer looks hopeless. I see a way out and I can be with her at last. Taking the shard of glass, I run it back and forth on my wrist, feeling only a slight sting as it cuts through my flesh. I do the same to my other wrist. I can feel the hot blood trickling down my arms. I lower myself to the floor, face against the cold concrete, feeling the effects of losing too much blood. I feel dizzy. My breathing becomes laborious. I can feel the stickiness of the pools of blood forming at both my wrists. It no longer matters. I can die in peace, knowing that I will be with HER: my love, my life. I close my eyes, the image of her beautiful face in mind. I allow this darkness to take me for now I go to her....

 

Feedback is definitely appreciated. Flames are more than welcome...I'm a pyromaniac...they'll keep me warm.












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