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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 84

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Sleazy Bed Track

Summary: Claire and Alfie attempt to tame the wild Genevieve. With her memories coming back and her mood swings coming quicker than they can control, they're faced with some very hard truths about Gen and her behavior. Song is Sleazy Bed Track by The Bluetones. One of my fav songs.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence. PTSD. Angst. Drug Abuse. Trauma. Self Hatred.

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Claire sits at Genevieve’s oversized desk in her office worrying over paperwork and forging Genevieve’s signature to keep the business running smoothly. The afternoon sun drops through the tall windows, plush curtains pulled back to show the landscaped yard. The smell of food wafts through the house, Aggie is busy in the kitchen and Alfie is giving Genevieve a bath. A small moment of calm in the estate as things run as they should.

But as Claire finalizes the books, her ears perk up to another sound, shouting from the bedroom. Something that usually wasn’t and shouldn’t be happening. Genevieve had only started speaking again and yelling was the last thing she needed to do. But as Claire makes her way down the hall to the decorated bedroom door she hears Alfie shouting back. Which given the circumstances was most unusual.

Genevieve growls angrily, hands in her hair, tugging at it with her face contorted in pain. “I can’t do this!” She bellows.

“What do ya fuckin want from me love? I don’t know why you’re so bloody angry!” Alfie shouts in confusion, hands in the air in surrender to the whirlwind that was Genevieve, whipping around her room.

Claire stands with her hand on the knob and listens.

“I need my medicine is what I need!” Genevieve sounds distressed and Claire can hear sobs between the forced out words.

“I said I'd give it to ya.” Alfie says more quietly, "Just lemme have it 'n I’ll-“

“No! You don’t understand! I need it out of my head! Now!” She shouts, taking a dramatic swig of the glass bottle.

“Fucks sake Genny!” Alfie growls and knocks the bottle out of her hand as it lands on the carpet and spills.

“Look what you’ve gone and done!” She wails, stumbling back towards the bed.

“Me? I’m not gonna let ya kill ya self on the stuff! You need to calm down. I told ya you’re safe. Memories can’t hurt you unless ya let them.” he insists but it falls upon deaf ears.

“It’s never safe in my head Alfie.” Her voice grows quieter, her chest still heaving from the excitement as she falls back into the bed. “Only when I have my medicine. Then he leaves...then I can’t…remember…” her breathing slows as she sprawled on her back, gown covering her only partially like some painted Greek goddess.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Alfie stands with his mouth open and rubs his face hard. “What the fuck was that love?” He commands, moving towards her and covering her with a blanket.

“Alfie.” She whines. “I don’t…can’t…” She sighs and puts the back of her hand to her forehead. “It’s too much. It...hurts too much.” She laments before he watches her eyes glaze and her vacant expression return.

He takes a few heavy steps back. Understanding where the outburst had come from but not knowing why it was so damned intense. He’d never seen her behave like this. He mutters swears to himself as he lets his bewildered expression stay, walking towards the door.

“What good you were in there.” He remarks as he opens the door to reveal Claire waiting. He was soaked, shirt transparent and hair with droplets clinging to it.

“Alfie? What on earth was that?” Claire’s voice was light and full of concern.

“You know as much as I fuckin do.” He answers, exasperated as he shuts the door. “Get someone in there to watch her, I’m…fuckin’....I need some fuckin’ air.” He grumbles, moving past her and shaking his head in defeat.

“Can you tell me what happened at least?”

He only half turns, hands up in surrender to the encounter. “One minute she’s happy in the bath, the next she’s sobbing to the point of sickness, then screaming and fightin' wif me.” He doesn’t look at Claire while he speaks, but he still uses his hands to elaborate.” She saw the...bruises and the marks on her. It was time for her afternoon medicine, right? I was gonna see how she handled a bath without it, check her pain ‘n that. And she started staring and then cryin’ ‘n and talkin’ ‘bout how she doesn’t want to remember.” He finishes angrily. Knowing he could do nothing about the cause or effect of the situation they were in.

“So they are coming back.” Is what Claire takes from the story.

“Apparently so. Which we were told was a good sign. But at what fuckin' cost? She’ll burn the bloody house down or fuckin' kill me in me sleep with that bollocks! Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He groans and goes back to his plan of just getting out of the house.

“What on earth's happened to Alfie?” Aggie queries, coming up from a back hallway.

“Genevieve did.”

“Did she try to drown him?” She chuckles, misreading the situation.

“She’s getting her memories back.”

“Oh. But why is he all wet?”

“She was in the bath and saw the marks and had a few mood swings in a very short period it seems. Crying, to screaming, to angry. She took her medicine and she’s down now.”

“Bless her. Poor thing.”

“She needs to learn to control herself. What happened can’t be changed. She can’t throw tantrums like a child like this Ags she-“

“Hush dear.” Aggie waves her hands at her. “Be patient. She isn’t herself. Her mind isn’t hers right now. Give it time. She’s still healing.” A gentle voice of a maternal heart defends Genevieve. “Let’s call the doctor. That’ll calm down Alfie and we can raise our concerns.”

Claire nods and sighs in agreement, and does just that.

——

“Why is she on the fuckin’ drugs if ya can’t tell what the fucks goin’ on when she’s on ‘em?” Alfie yells at the doctor, one hand on his hip and the other motioning to a dazed Gen in the bed.

“Her body is still healing. She can take it for the pain. The mental side effects are secondary and are worth the negative side effects to treat the physical.” the doctor speaks calmly, used to Alfie’s coarse language and manner at this point.

“Fuckin’ says you, yeah? You’re not here when she’s screamin’ and throwing a tantrum like a fuckin’ child.” his surly delivery makes Aggie shoot a frown his way.

“Alfie.” she scolds, her hands wringing in front of her.

“Well, she is. Actin’ hysterical. I’ve seen her be upset, right? We’ve fought, she’s cried, disappeared ‘n that. But this is different. These mood swings aren’t…that.” he speaks with a firm hand that punctuates his points.

“Emotional instability is common for patients with head injuries. Being in the war, I assumed you knew that.” The Doctor speaks with such an indifferent face it angers Alfie more.

“But she weren’t in a fuckin’ war was she?” he retaliates.

Claire rolls her eyes and nudges Aggie with her elbow. “Now who’s being childish.” she mutters.

“No, she was through something she didn’t sign up to be in. Her trauma is just as real to her as any soldier. You treat it the same. Time and patience are all I can recommend besides the current course of treatment. If she becomes too erratic and the behavior worsens after what I deem a sufficient amount of time for healing, which could be up to a year, you may want to look into having an asylum take care of her if it’s too much.”

“Fuckin’...NO. Fuck off.” Alfie expresses with a face that shows such incredulity that the man would even suggest such a thing. “I’m not sending my bloody wi-” he stops himself, rubbing his brow with a red sclaed hand, his skin only worsening under the new stress of Gen’s new habit of being unruly. “I’m not sending her to fuckin’ Bedlam. She stays here. Don’t fuckin’ suggest it again.” he warns, a strong and furious finger pointed in the doctors face as his shoulder and chest puff up in defense of her. “Fuckin’ asylums. Fuckin’ ‘ell...call yaself a bloody doctor…” he mutters loudly as he stomps out of the room.

“These are the stages and steps of treatment. She is currently on course. There is nothing more I can do.” the doctor replies with a still unphased face as he turns to the two women left in the room. “From what we understand of the brain, it will cause this sort of behavior while it’s repairing itself. Sometimes, especially in women who have undergone such events, they will have overwhelming sadness and anger. Similar to hysteria but with a different cause.”

“Yes, yes.” Claire says and breathes heavily. “Thank you, doctor. Forgive Mr. Solomons he’s under a lot of stress. In his defense Genevieve was...is a very intelligent and headstrong woman who wouldn’t act this way under normal circumstances. And he’s not a woman, he doesn’t understand how we work on an intimate level enough to understand what’s going on in her mind.Especially for what she’s gone through.”

“Understood. I take no offense.” he waves a dismissive hand. “Keep her under watch. Medicine as needed. Work with her and what she wants instead of against it. It should help keep her stable. I would keep her isolated like this in the meantime. Don’t want her to lash out inappropriately and cause damage elsewhere.” he gives a nod of his head and leaves.

Aggie and Claire stand and stare with crossed arms and worried hands at Genevieve who are blissfully unaware of the trouble she was causing.

“So what are we gonna fuckin’ do?” Alfie says wandering back in the room.

“Exactly what we have been doing Alfie, fuck’s sake. Can you not bloody listen?” Claire says to him with an offended tone that catches him off guard.

“So we’re just gonna let her behave this way? No repercussions?” his voice was loud and still annoyed. Giving away how hurt he was underneath his anger.

“YES!” Claire and Aggie both snap at him.

“Who she is...her brain...soul...whatever you want to call it is damaged. It has to heal to make her who she was. You cannot rush it and disciplining her and upsetting her will only make it worse.” Aggie states with a low angry brow that Alfie always finds surprising. “She’s not a bloody child Alfie. You don’t discipline the sick. Fucks sake!” she throws her hands in the air in anger and stomps out, little fists balled into her dress to hold it up.

“Fuck me…” he whispers watching her go.

“You’re being an insensitive, thick, prick Alfie.” Claire states plainly.

“Excuse you?”

“Just because she might behave like a child in this state does NOT mean she is one. We stay the course.”

“I know she’s not af uckin’ child.” he grumbles, feeling attacked. “But she went after that medicine like a fuckin’ fiend.” he asserts with more concern and less anger. “I know men what get addicted to such things. We keep it under control. Keep it out of sight, not out by the bed. I don’t want her seein’ it unless it’s time for it. We need to keep an eye on her, right?”

“I can agree with that.”

“Good.” he responds with a stern nod. “Now quit fuckin’ yellin’ at me because I’m tryin’ to deal just the same as you are. While also handlin’ my business, and her, and everyone in the whole of fuckin’ London gossipin’ like children ‘bout her, right? I’ve got a lot on my fuckin’ plate right now and I’m gonna yell and be fuckin’ exhausted and get tired of this shite, yeah? So don’t treat me like a fuckin’ villian ‘cause I’m the one who says what everyone’s thinkin’. Ya just don’t have the bollocks to say it out loud.” he preaches with broad shoulders set in a defensive pose and staring her down in his tactic of intimidation to hold his rank in the home before sauntering off.

On some level Claire knew he had a point. But he also didn’t have to throw his weight around like he was. She was trying to be the unbiased mediator for everyone but even she had her limits. Alfie was very smart, intuitive even, but he wasn’t a woman. Claire knew that what Genevieve needed now was some understanding from a woman. Someone who wouldn’t raise their voice or accuse her of acting crazy when these feelings came along. She sighs and slouches in the chair by Genevieve’s desk, wondering how she was going to manage everything on her own until her employer and friend started acting like herself again.

------

With more spacing out of her medicine dosages, things do not get better. They get worse. Genevieve was now prone to sudden fits of sobbing and anger. If anything reminded her of what had happened, her brain would overwhelm itself and she’d become inconsolable. She’d broken nearly half the stem wear in the house. They’d taken to serving her before Alfie would get home so he didn’t have to see her break a glass every meal. But what they couldn’t know, because she wouldn’t share, and didn’t want to think about what that the same sort of glasses they used were the same Horne had when he would give her water, or alcohol laced with God knows what. So every meal she remembered him pouring it down her throat and every meal she would take it and smash it against the wall. She didn’t even do it consciously. Her body reacted to her mind telling her, ‘No, we don’t want to think about this.’ But instead of dealing with it by distracting herself, as she lacked that control, she would lash out. It was purely base instinct and reactionary, but it didn’t keep it from chipping away at everyone’s composure and sympathy with every shard they cleaned up. Eventually she smashed them all and Claire, being the logical one, bought different ones. Next meal, when they stood by with a broom and pan to clean up at tea, she didn’t smash it. She had her meal, had her medicine and went on about her afternoon. Everyone stood shocked and silent and looked at each other.

“Guess she didn’t like the glasses?” Aggie says with a confused face, but the simple assumption makes Claire laugh a bit madly. Of course, she didn’t. Why else would she only be triggered by that one thing? She felt stupid for not realizing it sooner and it helped her to look at Gen’s behavior a bit differently. There were reasons for her actions, but she couldn’t communicate them. So they had to listen in a new way to her and that would take some practice.

For the most part, Alfie still calmed her. She like seeing him, which was good, that meant at least for him he saw a more calm woman. Alfie was the rescuer in her mind. All she’d thought about while she was being held and thus, a source of positive feeling. He tried his best to remain tender when she would cry and most days it wasn’t too hard. He could grasp why she would want to, it was something he understood. It was something he saw as soft and feminine and his instinct was to be soft back towards it. But the anger...it was another situation. One he should understand better than any, it was what he used to focus himself. But with only wild emotion, no outlet or even a cause it seemed he couldn’t support the behavior when it happened. He would bring in one of the women and leave. Then she’d cry. Then he’d return. It was a terrible cycle for everyone to be stuck in. But as the doctor said. Keep the course, this is all standard. But living in it felt anything but.

Genevieve had been improving. There were good and bad days, sometimes she seemed even normal when that sweet spot of medicated and sober was hit. So on this day, she was allowed to wander about unaccompanied, being kept an eye on by the staff and reported back to Claire and Aggie who were desperately trying to catch up on their own work. It wasn’t a mistake to let her be on her own, it was good, she was inside her own head, somewhere she needed to be more, to learn how to control things again. But you can’t expect her to control herself when faced when every negative thought she worked so hard to avoid was said in front of her.

The newest maid Dorothy, the one Alfie had been keeping his eye on was once again on the phone during work hours. The man of the house wasn’t home so she didn’t care to behave herself. He was the only one she was afraid of, which was a mistake. A series of huge mistakes on her part that would lead to a comeuppance she wouldn’t see approaching.

“It’s been a madhouse, let me tell you.” she starts with a nasty tone.

The word mad was currently something that made Gen feel terribly guilty. She was mostly aware when she would act out, but was trying to control it but everything just felt so intense. Everything from pain to sadness, it was all so strong, unlike anything she’d ever felt and she just wanted it to stop, for her to feel normal and stable again. And the morphine did that.

“She throws things at least once a day. It’s ridiculous. She’s tearing her own house apart. She’s a mess and her brain must have been turned to jam because she’s acting like she’s comatose one minute, the next she’s raging about something out of nowhere and then she’s sobbing and being carried back to her bed. She can’t control herself!” she pauses for the person on the other end of the line to respond with praise.

Tears fill Gen’s eyes. Was that really what she’d been doing? How people saw her? Was she really such a huge burden?

“It’s been what? A few months? Nearly? She’s not going to get much better, clearly. I’d write her as a lost cause and ship her off to some hospital far away if I was him. Who needs that. Not like they’re married. He avoids her half the time, he looks so bloody angry when he leaves her room. Like he hates her. I’m sure he’ll leave her any day now. I’m just waiting for it. Guess I’ll have to find a new job though. Oh well.” she sighs.

She thinks Alfie hated her. She couldn’t control herself and he was going to leave her. Her breathing picks up, leaned against the wall outside the door, her hand to her chest.

“I mean, she still hasn’t bled so...she’s probably pregnant that Horne’s child. And when that happens he’s definitely leaving her.” she replies with such confidence and malice it makes Gen’s stomach turn.

It was the one thing Gen tried to block out, the one thing that sent her into a dark place she didn’t know if she could ever get out of. She was worried she was pregnant. Her head spins and she starts to cry, her mouth filling with bile at the thought, her stomach aching from her mind making it so. All she heard was she was a burden who would be alone, he love didn’t love her back, and that monster put a baby in her. She’d gone so long without getting pregnant, not knowing if she even could, and this would be how it happened. It was suited, wasn’t it? Another terrible thing to happen to her? More punishment for her evil doings. She deserved it, she deserved worse.

She shakes and barrels into her bedroom, knocking over things in her cabinet to get to her medicine. She fights through the wheezing and the panic that courses through her and takes big swigs of the tiny bottle, finshing it off since there didn’t seem to be too much left. Soon she felt it. That warm, welcome numbness, that feeling that nothing would hurt her, if just for a little while. She rests her head against the wardrobe, eyes shutting and letting out a pained groan. This was okay, the medicine would make it okay. She didn’t have to feel this right now. Right now...she was okay.

----

“Where’s Genevieve gone off to?” Aggie says with a cheerful disposition, wiping her hands on her apron as she speaks to one of the girls in her wing cleaning.

“Haven’t seen her in hours, ma’am.” she says politely and nods, going back to dusting.

“Claire?”

“I’ve been in here all day. Not a peep.” she says in a distracted tone.

“How you seen her?” she asks another girl out by the back doors.

“Saw her last in the garden ma’am.” she gives a polite bow and moves back to carrying the box of vegetables.

----

When Alfie gets home he can feel the prickle of chaos again. He throws his things by the door, no one there to receive them as he knows something’s going on.

“What’s happened?” he asks with a hard face.

“She’s gone missing again.” one maid sighs with annoyance.

“Fuckin’ what?” Alfie's heart leaps into his throat.

“We hear her in the garden but we’re trying to find her. My apologies. She’s wandered off.” she responds with a tired and disheartened face.

“Fucks sake.” he groans and stomps off towards the garden.

By the time he reaches the end of the maze of hedges and shrubbery, little secret alcoves and hiding places littered throughout she’s being taken by the arm by Aggie down the path.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell ya givin’ us a scare again there girl.” he declares, leaning in to speak to her but Aggie’s face doesn’t look happy.

“Did I? I’m terribly sorry.” she whispers with glazed eyes that were red and wet with fresh tears. “I’m so sorry. I don't know…” she begins to well up again.

“What were you doin’ out there love? Did ya not hear them callin’ for ya?”

“No. I...I don’t know...I was…” she shakes her head, clearly confused and Alfie’s brow lowers but with more disappointment than anything.

“She was doing very well today.” Aggie tried to compensate but Gen’s eyes fall to the ground as slow-rolling tears plink into the dry dirt. “I’m not sure what happened.” she sighs.

“I don’t...I don’t know.” her eyes squint as if she really was trying to figure it out, which was better than usual. “There was...something.” she cries and rubs her forehead. “It hurts.” she whimpers and he takes her from Aggie.

“You really are tryin’ to think of it aren’t you sweetie?” he suggests, holding her face and making her look at him. Her eyes were so sad, confused and looked fearful.

“I'm sorry.” her bottom lip quivers. “I am, I just...I can’t…” she gulps.

“Shhh…” he whispers and takes her into his arms. “Come now.” he grunts out. “Would ya like ya tea in bed?”

Her arms wrap around his neck and squeeze so tightly he coughs. “Don’t leave me Alfie, please. I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looked to Aggie with confusion on his face and she shrugs. “I’m not leavin’. Just got home dinnit I?”

“Ever. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.” she whines, burying her face and continuing to mutter it over and over.

“Something’s happened.” Alfie states, sensing something was off. “She’s more…”There” than usual when this happens.”

“I know. But she just keeps apologizing and saying she doesn’t know. Then the poor thing gets a headache from trying to think too hard.” Aggie pouts.

“Did somefin' happen?” he urges her, pressing his cheek to hers as he carries her.

“Yes.” she grumbles into his neck.

“What?” he asks, sitting her on the bed.

“I don’t know. It hurts.” she answers with a yawn.

“Well let’s rest then, yeah?” he responds with an inquisitive look on his face.

She nods, reaching out for his hand. “Don’t leave.” she begs softly.

“I’m not. I’m not. Hush now.” he tells her, pushing her hair back from her forehead as her mother told him to. He rubs his thumb between her eyes, causing them to flutter closed. “I want to ask her more but I’m afraid I know better.”

“I know. I asked her until she started crying. I tried.”

“This is different. She’s not...angry or screamin’."

“Perhaps it’s a good sign?” Aggie suggests.

Claire comes in and her sigh startles them as they stare at Genevieve. “Perhaps. But my guess is no.” she frowns, holding up the empty bottle on the ground.

“Fuck.” Alfie spits out. His hope faltering and anger flaring up into his cheeks. “Look at this. Fuckin’ mess. Like some junkie.” he mutters shaking his head.

“She didn’t do this for no reason.” Claire interjects. “She doesn’t act out for no reason. She was doing just fine today.” she defends the woman who can’t who is half asleep in bed.

“Why is she speaking so well and answering us if she’s on it?”

“Because they get a tolerance to it. Want more and more.” Alfie explains through gritted teeth.

“But why did she do it?” Claire demands sternly. “Something happened.”

“Or nothin’ fuckin’ happened Claire because on top of all ‘is she’s gone and gotten dependent on the fuckin’ stuff innit?” his anger clear in his voice.

“She did turn to drugs...before.” Aggie adds hesitantly and Claire shoots her a look of betrayl that is quickly replaced with anger.

“Yeah, she did. Her and her little party days. Daddy kicks her out, she goes wild. Now she gets hurt again, goes to this.” he motions to the bottle in Claire’s hand.

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Claire responds with a shake of her head, looking to Gen in the bed. “She’s been doing so well.” she maintains forcefully.

“Yeah and she’s done well before innit she? And then she goes and over does it and here we are again. Are we gonna not learn our fuckin’ lesson or are we gonna start lockin’ this away from her?”

“I’ll put it in my room. Only I have the key.”

“Now there’s a plan, yeah?” he replies with sarcastic tone but real support. “We start weanin' her off the stuff. It’s been months. She doesn’t even have any bruises or injuries left. All's wrong now is in her head.” he taps his finger to an angry and gnarled looking brow. “Call and get more, but keep it from her, right? It’s time we start fixin’ this before it gets out of hand.” he states with authority and then leaves.

Claire is left shaking her head. “I don’t disagree but.. she wouldn’t do this for no reason.”

“She’s hurting. That’s why she did it. Poor things mind is…” Aggie sighs heavily.

“She was doing so well though.” Claire states angrily.

“It doesn't have to make sense dear. It just is. Alfie is right. We don’t need a repeat of her youth. I’m too bloody old to go through that again.” she groans.

Claire is left standing alone. She looks down at Genevieve, wishing she could tell her what was wrong. Claire’s gut told her something wasn’t right. Something besides her using the medicine to numb herself, which she understood and even expected to a degree. But she was so...reasonable when she spoke. She wasn’t mumbling about children, she wasn’t speaking to people who weren’t there. She was wide-eyed and apologetic, fearful, answering questions and reacting to her environment. Something had caused this meltdown, something very real to Gen.

---------

With her medicine cut back, she’d been doing fairly well. There had been crying spells and bouts of anger but nothing destructive. What they didn’t know was Gen had a bottle of morphine at her disposal. Slipping sips when things got too much after they would leave. She was inadvertently giving herself better control, hiding the use from them, waiting until they were gone to reach for it. And she was becoming aware that they were catching on to her needing it. The doctor had said she could take it as was needed, and just because they didn’t agree with what was a need and what wasn’t didn’t mean she and her sick mind should go without. Or so was Gen’s opinion.

Claire, who was not the best teacher for such a thing, sat across from Genevieve as she tried to read her Hebrew study books. Something she used to do in her downtime while sipping tea and relaxing was now something that took the entirety of her focus and she had to be watched over when attempting such things. Sometimes she’d get headaches, sometimes she’d get upset she couldn’t do what she used to but it always ended in her falling back into the bed and demanding dramatically she be left alone for a nap. Despite the eye-rolling that behavior specifically might induce from someone, they saw it as an improvement, as her being dramatic without being destructive was a step up from where they were at. Even speaking out what she needed was a good sign.

Genevieve had been at it for over an hour, her nose tingling and her head starting to throb as they letters blurred and she notices so little progress being made. She observes Claire flying through a book of numbers and becomes full of jealousy. Claire was like a hot knife through butter with the task and Gen was barely scraping along and having immense trouble even doing that. Gen felt her emotions flare and bubble. More negative thoughts that wanted to jump out of her throat and be shouted at whoever was closest.

Instead, she slams the book shut, Claire’s attention on her instantly then shoving it off the desk. “I’m too fucking stupid to do this now.” she announces with her eyes to the desk, face scowled and Claire holds in her sigh, knowing she was on the edge of a meltdown.

“You aren’t stupid, Gen. You’re just a bit delayed due to your healing. Don’t let it get to you. You’re doing perfectly fine.” she assures her in a calm voice.

“You’re sitting there going through your work so damned easily. I could do that! I miss being smart. Now I can barely read without my eyes crossing and burning and everything making my head hurt!” her voice is high and strained.

“Well I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, that’s why I can and you can’t. If I’d been through what you had I’d be in the same situation.” she tries to gently explain. But as soon as it was out of her mouth she knew she shouldn’t have said it.

Reminded of exactly what got her there in first place Gen’s control dissolves. “I’ll never be the way I was will I?” her bottom lip quivers and she begins to sob loudly.

“Shit.” Claire mutters, quickly marking her place and rising from the desk in Gen’s room they shared. “Yes, you will. You have to be patient. You’ve come so far. You’ve been doing so well. Everyone’s proud of your progress.”

“That’s a load of shit!” she spits out, standing and shoving Claire away who tried to soothe her. “Everyone else knows it but no one will tell me. I’m hopeless. I’m broken and used up and damaged.” her head and arms flail as she speaks, her bells sleeves flowing about creating a whirlwind around her that was a very good visual to accompany what she was getting caught up in. She rushes over to her nightstand, kneeling and struggling with something.

“What are you doing?” Claire demands with exasperation in her voice as she walks over slowly, unsure of what to expect.

“I’m just going to give in. Be what you all think I am. What’s the point in trying?” she speaks loudly and articulately getting the bottle out from behind the drawer.

“What in the fucking hell Gen?! Where did you get that?!” her voice flares with anger.

“The doctor! Because I NEED IT Claire!” she replies as she rushes to open it and gets it to her mouth before Claire knocks it and Gen onto the bed. “Why do you want me to suffer so?!” Gen cries and writhes on the bed.

“Look at you! Gen! This isn’t you!” she screeches in anger, holding her best friend down as she reaches for the bottle on her bed. “You’re better than this! You’re stronger than this! Why have you been sneaking this? You clearly know it’s wrong!” she begs with tears in her eyes of frustration.

“You don’t understand. You CAN’T. NO ONE CAN!” she laments with gritted teeth, fighting to get away from her.

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS GOIN’ ON HERE?!” Alfie’s voice booms across the room and Gen sees her moment.

“Oh Alfie!” she puts on a damsel routine hard and shoves Claire away, running into his arms.

“What is it love? What’s happened?” he questions, taking her face into his hands.

“I got the most awful headache trying to study Hebrew and became so distraught. I was having such a hard time.” she pouts and holds his hands, stroking them gently. “I wanted my medicine so I could fight off the headache but she wouldn’t let me. Told me I was a fiend and that she wouldn’t let me!” she throws her head into his chest and cries dramatically. He believes her, her using his weakness to her feminine softness to her advantage.

“YOU SLY BITCH!” Claire snarls with true anger in her eyes as Gen smirks at her while Alfie holds her head close to him, already pointing his finger at Claire in warning.

“You was the one tellin’ me not to talk to her like that! What the fuck are you doin’? She’s trying to study and get better and you won’t give her any for something legitimate. That’s not what this is about. This was to make sure she didn’t get too much.” he booms her way.

“What about this then?” she reaches across the bed and grabs the now empty bottle. “She was keeping this in her nightstand. Behind our back.”

“Genevieve?” he roars, holding her by the chin. “Is this true?”

She could feel his hands shaking and knew the anger was towards her and real fear builds, tears begin to fall. He reminded her of him. A very real and intense flashback begins in her mind. He sees her eyes go wide, backing away, then scrambling to get away as he reached for her. “No!” she screams and stumbles over furniture.

“Don’t hurt yourself you bloody- UGH!” Alfie groans in frustration.

“GET AWAY!” she shouts, kicking at him.

“She was studying. She did get upset. Then she said she might as well give into what we thought of her and got this out. She felt stupid, she said.”

‘You’re not bloody stupid! You’re hurt!” he shouts, not controlling himself as she scrambles on her stomach in the floor to get away from him.

“You’re scaring her Alfie.” Claire rubs her face and sighs loudly.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!” he replies with clawed hands as she backs against the wall and shakes like an abused animal.

“She’s having an episode. Just...let her be. Go get the fucking medicine.” she moans and moves over behind him. “I’ll watch her. You’ve probably sent her into another daze. I made the mistake of mentioning what happened off-handedly earlier. All my fault I suppose. I was just trying to explain why I could do my work and she couldn’t.”

“Well nice fucking work there Claire. All the preachin’ ya did to me ‘bout it, trying to get her used to talkin’ ‘bout it and now THIS happens every time we do. Fuckin’ coddling her. Now we have to sedate her like an animal. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” he stands and breathes loudly out of his nostrils as they flare and he attempts to compose himself.

“I’ve got an idea.” Claire declares. “Distract her.”

“I ‘ont fink she needs no more distractin’.” he smarts off and kneels in front of her speaking softly. With the gentle words, she comes back down a bit, looking around bewildered. “There she is. ‘Ello.” he greets, giving her a wave.

“Wha-? Ugh. Again?” she responds with true disappointment on her face. “I was...ugh I was there again.” she rubs her head slouches against the wall.

“Here.” Claire offers, kneeling down next to her, handing her a bottle full of liquid.

She looks at it and begins salivating, looking to both of them nervously. She wanted it. Oh God, she wanted all of it so badly. But if she let them know that they wouldn’t give it to her. They both saw it in her eyes and knew there was a problem. With shaking hands, she takes it and almost hides it shamefully as she relishes a drink. Then another...then another before Claire takes it away and Gen gives her a bit of a fight for it, a small series of noises of complaint.

“There.” Claire states standing back up. “You got what you wanted now lie down and sleep this off.” she orders, giving Alfie a tug of his vest.

Gen stands slowly, inching towards the bed and getting into it, her large eyes still unsure if they would chastise her for taking the medicine. She thinks she played it cool. She wasn’t sure.

“Right.” Alfie grunts. “I’ll be back to check on ya just gotta...do a few things first, yeah?” he tells her with his usual harshness, nothing too crass towards her.

She nods and hunkers down, feeling shame on top of everything else as she wonders what is wrong with her and why she felt so out of control. This wasn’t her. This was the morphine. Right? Or was this her now? She’d never thought herself addicted to anything before. But she was starting to wonder about herself, hearing what they said about her now. The shame sits heavy in her chest, her face red from embarrassment. The shame moves to anger towards herself quickly, she would’ve known better if she weren’t so daft now.

Outside the bedroom door Claire holds up the bottle. “I filled it with water.” she declares proudly.

“Ah.” Alfie nods.

“So we’ll see if that can help. See how she reacts. I know you saw how she looked at us...how she looked at this.” she shakes her head. ”Because clearly…”

“We have a very real problem on our hands.” Alfie answers rubbing his chin in contemplation of how to handle this and hide it, without treating her like what she was quickly becoming, an addict.

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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elysiumwaits · 5 years

Text

I was tagged by @novemberhush which is great because I love to talk about myself. It’s a problem sometimes at work, but it’s great for when I’m in therapy and doing memes on the internet!

Rules: answer 15 questions and then tag 15 people

1) Are you named after anyone?

Kind of. So my name is Emily. My mom had a cat named Emma - my biological father (who was not a good man) was jealous of the cat, and, long story short, Mom did not have a cat because of this asshole. So she named me Emily because she liked the name. I’m essentially named after her favorite pet. My middle name is Marie, it’s a family name - the last person who had it before me was my Great Aunt Marie, and she was, I’m told, the kind of woman who would take no shit and no prisoners. My mother told me it’s a very fitting middle name for me.

That said, please, please, please don’t call me Emily. Em is okay, I go by that in real life, but I actually prefer Eli or Ely most of the time.

2) When was the last time you cried?

Shit, son, I cry at the drop of a hat. Probably a couple days ago? I’m a frustration crier and a happy crier and a oh-shit-I-dropped-my-fork-again crier, so it just... doesn’t really register anymore.

3) Do you have kids?

No. I work in a daycare, specifically the infant room. I love it, but personally, I don’t feel like kids are currently in the plan. This may change - I love children, but right now I don’t trust anyone enough to share a child with them, nor am I financially or mentally stable enough to raise one.

I am, however, extremely maternal, so I will probably eventually have one. Just one.

4) Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Mmm, kind of? I don’t suffer fools gladly, which is sometimes a problem because my mouth moves before my brain catches up. I don’t use sarcasm in a mean or mocking way with people who don’t know any better - I will exaggerate it to use it with children so they know, without a doubt, that it’s sarcasm and a joke. Adults who should know better than to do ridiculous things, though, are fair game.

Take, for example, the woman who told me I didn’t dress professionally enough in the infant room because I was wearing leggings and a comfortable t-shirt.

I used sarcasm with her. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, I’m sure you put makeup and heels on for [child]’s 4 am feedings, too, right?” And then I pointed out the stains on my shirt from baby food and formula.

With kids, though, who are old enough to understand what sarcasm is, I’ll do a really exaggerated, over the top eyeroll and be like “Oh, goodness, we never ever go outside, do we? We’ve never gone outside a single day you’ve been here!” or something like that, because they laugh and they know it’s a joke. It also helps them develop critical thinking and communication skills.

5) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Okay, so, I am a hypervigilant person thanks to a lot of PTSD-inducing trauma, so the first thing I notice about a person is usually how they hold themselves and if they have anything in their hand. I notice body language religiously - someone with an aggressive, threatening stance is immediately labeled a threat, whereas a person walking with arms to the side, shoulders back, and a general open body language is labeled not-a-threat.

That’s how I live my life, day to day. Threat or not-a-threat. Every single place I go.

I don’t recommend it.

6) What’s your eye colour?

Blue - apparently a very striking blue, I’ve been asked multiple times if I wear contacts. I do not.

7) Scary movie or happy ending?

HAPPY ENDING. And honestly, I have to know that beforehand or I have too much anxiety to enjoy the book/film/show/game.

8) Any special talents?

Writing, though that’s less talent and more intense and obsessive devotion to a craft.

I hesitate to add: I’m also very good with tarot cards. Give me enough time with a person, one of my decks, and I can pry deep into their lives and tell them things about themselves that they’ve never revealed to another soul. It’s honestly terrifying. I have stories.

9) Where were you born?

Missouri. Technically in a helicopter, not actually in a hospital. It was a very emergency C-section, I was a month early, and Mom had actually coded. She likes to tell people that I’ve tried to kill her at least once!

10) What are your hobbies?

Writing, gaming, reading, Youtube videos and shows, crochet (less so lately, I have trouble remembering patterns these days). I write a lot, I read mostly fanfiction right now, I game when I can (usually Skyrim, Dragon Age Inquisition, or Minecraft), I watch a lot of Rooster Teeth and Achievement Hunter, and occasionally I make blankets and washcloths when I get so stressed that I can’t function.

11) Do you have pets?

YES. Okay, so I have Boo, who actually might be my soulmate. I’ve never felt so close to an animal. He hopped in my car one day when I pulled into a parking lot, and I was like “Oh, okay, I have a cat now,” and he’s been mine ever since. In my defense, he was very, very skinny, declawed, and more than likely abandoned. I call him Seizure Cat sometimes because he always seems to know when I’m about to seize, and he’ll climb on me and purr so that I don’t wake up alone. It really helps.

Then I have Piper, who is my princess. She is 16-17, and to be frank, I stole her. I say I rescued her, but essentially, I stole her. I saw my friend’s dad kick her hard enough she bounced off a wall, and when it was time to go, I just picked her up and took her with me. For a long time, I was the only person she would let near her. She’s mellowed out quite a bit, hangs out mostly in her basket next to the food bowl, and yells when she wants attention - if you try to pet her before she wants it, she gets super angry. So affection is always on her terms!

Last but not least is actually my parents’ dog, Kobe. He is a massive German Shepherd/Treeing Walker Hound mix that we got from a pound in St. Louis. Brought him home at 8 pounds, found out he had distemper (he was the only of his litter to survive it), and 95 pounds and roughly three years later, he sleeps at the end of my bed (or couch when I can’t sleep in the bed). He is insanely smart - he’s officially smart enough that he knows all the commands he’s supposed to, can understand sentences and respond to them. He just doesn’t listen, because he pretty much knows he doesn’t have to. Luckily he’s an only dog, and my parents and I adore him, because he’s pretty much untrainable, simply because he’s so damn stubborn.

12) What sport do you play/have you played?

I can tell you that there is not a single person in this world who has ever looked at me and said “oh yeah, she’s sporty.”

I broke my wrist in a junior high kickball game. I wasn’t even playing. I was walking around the gym, talking with my hands with my friend @artsake-dreams and someone kicked the ball. It was hard enough that it flew across the gym, bounced off my hand, and snapped my wrist. The gym teacher didn’t believe I was hurt, the substitute nurse thought I was faking, so I walked to the office and cried to the secretary (who was my mom’s friend, mom is a teacher in the same district). Mom brought the x-rays in and very quietly and intensely not-yelled at the nurse and the gym teacher.

Later, in senior year, I got banned from playing hockey in the gym because I was too aggressive and almost got a detention for swearing. The only reason I didn’t was because the PE teacher was honestly just glad I was showing an interest in something physical.

13) How tall are you?

5’3

14) Favourite subject at school?

English/Writing. I also really enjoyed the sciences, even if I wasn’t good at the math. I was excellent when it came to the theories, but the formulas were really difficult for me. I also really love philosophy.

15) Dream job

I want to say writer, but that’s a lie because I don’t like people giving me deadlines for writing. I think an editor with a publisher is my dream job. Possibly a college-level writing/English/literature teacher. I’m one of those people who believes that writing is a skill that can be taught (though some are born with an innate talent) and that it’s something that should be taught. But that’s a post for another day.

Uh, okay, tagging some people? @artsake-dreams @sophaoat @thepeacering @icarusthriving UUUH it’s 2 am I don’t know 15 people off the top of my head, sorry, BUT if you see this you’re welcome to do it and say I tagged you!!!

#meme #about me #i love this shit #tag games

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