Blanket of Stars (Chaelisa ver.)

Chapter 27: Fade Out

Editor's note: At the time we reached this final chapter, the original author of this story had left some words at the beginning of the chapter that I'll just quote here, fully, as they're an important message to convey.

"I just want to make it clear that I don't encourage suicide in any way. That was never my intention or "message" for this story. As I say repeatedly to people below, I'd written half of the previous chapter before I'd even started chapter two. Those versions of [now turned Roseanne and Lisa], and the conclusion they had, were already there in my head and I couldn't alter it. Not even when I tried. It was a natural progression for those two and to those who were disappointed it turned out the way it did? I am sorry.

On a lighter note, to all who have read and especially those who have reviewed: Thank you. This has been so great to write again and get back into their world. Despite the angst-filled content, it truly was therapeutic to write. And okay, yeah, downright depressing :P. I hope you enjoy the final chapter and look out for more of my work soon. xx"

If I didn't know that it was impossible, I would have sworn that I almost fell asleep that night. Being with Lisa however I wanted to be and being as close as I wanted to be without my usual physical reaction was indescribable.

For the past few hours, I haven't spoken to her much. I give her my smiles of reassurance and my hands caresses when she walks past, but I don't know what to say. We're in her room. I'm sitting on the floor leaning against the wall and Lisa is sitting on the bed next to her mother.

Her parents arrived home yesterday morning after I assume the police got in contact with them. I couldn't look at their faces when they walked through the front door. I didn't want to see their grief. They could have been better parents, no questions about it, but they could have also been worse.

Lisa is sitting close to her mother; her head is leaning in toward her shoulder and she doesn't look like it's hurting her at all. Christine looks at a picture of Lisa that has been in her room for months. She's sitting on the beach at sunset, candidly smiling at someone out of view. The picture is lifted and brought closer to her face. I see her smile faintly and trace the edge of Lisa's face in the photograph.

I expected Lisa to cry at least once with her parents, but that hasn't happened. She's looked upset but no tears have formed. I don't know what's going through her mother's head, how could I? She isn't crying. I didn't hear her cry all day yesterday, either. She's been like this ever since I finally dared to look at her last night.

When Lisa was with her father, I told Christine that I was sorry. I was so sorry.

A kiss is placed on the photograph and it's put back in its resting place before she takes a deep breath and leaves the room. I take her mother's place on the bed and let Lisa lean her head against my shoulder. I take her hand without thinking and hold it with my own.

"I'm okay," she says without me having to ask.

"It's okay if you're not," I remind her.

"I know." Her hand applies a little more pressure to my own.

"I need to ask you something," I begin softly, "But I don't want you to take it the wrong way, all right?"

"Yeah, okay," she acquiesces

I lean toward her a little more, pressing us closer together. "Why did you decide to do it when you did?"

"Because I needed you," she replies seriously.

"But you said you would wait."

Her head nods briefly in agreement. "That was before Hyeri, Rosie." She exhales softly. "And I know you're thinking that it was a huge risk to take, but I just knew, Rosie. I knew I'd be able to be like this with you."