Infatuation (PLL Emison AU)

Urges and Desires

A/N: Rated M: Twisted content ahead.

Again, please shout out if you're out there. I feel like I get very little feedback here. There are only a few people keeping me here hanging by a thread. If the interest continues to dwindle this book might not stay here (I don't say this as a threat. I say this as a writer who gets more encouragement and feedback elsewhere. Clearly, I want to keep sharing, but maintaining several platforms might not continue to be feasible).

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Chapter 14:

Urges and Desires

Despite Alison being the one who was attacked, it was Emily who had nightmares.

Every time she woke up she would sneak into the kitchen with the intention of pouring herself a drink to calm her rattled nerves. But then she thought of her rock bottom. She thought of waking up in that hospital bed and seeing Toby's weary face...the tears in his eyes.

She'd made a promise to Toby...and to herself...that day. It hadn't always been easy to keep, especially after her dad died.

The night after his funeral she'd pulled out a bottle of cheap bourbon and put it on her kitchen table. She'd put a glass down to the right of the bottle and her glock down on the left. She'd stared at the lethal combination for nearly half an hour. She'd picked up the loaded weapon a few times, just to feel the weight of it in her hands.

She'd been reaching for the bottle and twisting the cap off when something stopped her dead in her tracks.

"It's not your time, Emmy."

Her father's voice in her head.

Startled, but not entirely surprised, she took the moment in stride. She didn't have a problem conversing with the dead. She knew it wasn't healthy, but it was a truce she'd allowed herself to keep her insanity at bay.

I can't do this without you, Dad.

She'd closed her eyes and could see him standing in front of her in his dress blues. His hand was outstretched, palm open and reaching for her face.

The warmth of his touch had felt so real. She'd put her hand on top of his, tears streaming down her face.

I'm not strong enough.

He'd drawn her face towards him and kissed her forehead.

"You're the strongest woman I know."

Her chest ached, as if her heart had physically split in half.

Is this pain ever going to go away?

He'd wiped her tears, the kindest smile on his face,

"It's always going to be there."

She knew she was having a conversation with her subconscious, but she held on to her father's image.

"Like waves slowly rolling over your ankles...the tide will rise and threaten to sweep you out to sea. But when that happens you look for that lighthouse out there...and you swim like hell, baby."

Emily blinked, and he was gone. She was back in her kitchen staring at the gun in her hand, left to wonder just what in the hell her dad's metaphor had been about.

She'd slowly put her weapon down and put the alcohol away.

She had been swimming towards the lighthouse ever since.

She hadn't fallen quite that low since then, but in her weakest moments sometimes she still craved some kind of relief, even if it wasn't death.

Every time she closed her eyes she could see Alison trapped in the back of the ambulance...terrified...fighting for her life. She could see Tim Roland's sadistic smile, his hands on her girlfriend's body.