A Little Too Much, A Little Too Deep

I will always love you.
I will always be there for you.
Love fades, mine has.

How can we go from one thing that is so blissful and pure, to something that makes me feel as numb as I felt on those cold nights in Russia?

I remember when Lissa used to run the razor blades over her skin and how she said that it made her feel better. That it let go of all the pent up emotions that spirit’s darkness had created.

There is so much darkness.

Since the day in the church, I’ve kept my guardian mask locked in place. Determined to not let anyone see how numb I really was. How much I was struggling quietly. To make matters worse, he was always with Lissa now, so anytime I saw her, he was there too.

But not that I saw much of Lissa these days. She was always busy getting ready to go to Lehigh or meeting with Her Majesty. Working with Adrian on Spirit, or with him, trying to help convince the others that he was no longer a threat to society… but I already knew that. I had seen what he was like as a Strigoi, those brown eyes that I loved so much ringed in crimson, the way he would walk, talk, or even look at others was nothing compared to how it was as a Strigoi.

I had taken up one of Adrian’s habits to help cope with the pain… alcohol… Copious amounts of alcohol. I doubt Adrian realises that it’s even missing from his supply.

I just want to reach out to him, to touch him, to have him smile at me with the smile that he kept hidden from everyone but me in the rare occasions. To be able to breathe in his unique smell. To have him hold me like he did in the cabin.

I could ask for an out of Court transfer. I’m sure if I asked Abe he would work something out for me, but I’m a masochist for my own pain. And the thought of not seeing him would be worse than having to look at him and know he wants nothing to do with me.

And it all brings me back to here, in my room, holding a bottle of cognac between my legs and dropping the razor blade to the ground beside me. Leaning my head back against the edge of the bathtub, I can feel the blood trickling down my arms, dripping onto the pristine, white tile floor.

I really do understand why Lissa would slit her wrists. The weight of the darkness, acting as a cornucopia, adding fuel to every negative feeling in your body.

By the time I realized I had cut a little too much, a little too deep, there was no going back. The numb feeling grew, and my eyes became heavy. I could faintly hear someone knocking on the door to my room, but I couldn’t move. But at this point, I wasn’t scared, I didn’t panic, because I knew that if I died right here, it would matter to a small group of people, but I wouldn’t feel numb anymore. I slid down the edge of the tub, soaking in my own blood, no longer able to hold myself up as I heard a loud crash.

But I could die content, knowing that the very last thing I looked at were the brown eyes that I loved so much. The eyes that belonged to the only man I have ever loved.

“Keep your eyes open, Roza.”

I smiled lazily, barely able to move the muscles in my face due to the lack of blood.

“I love you, Comrade,” I murmured, the darkness clouding my vision as I slipped into unconsciousness. It may be wishful thinking, but I swear I could hear him tell me that he loved me too and to keep fighting... but I’m too tired to fight now.