Eleanor Jackson Brighton (unstable_person) wrote in inpoormerit, @ 2010-03-07 22:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | #abduction, #solo, jackson |
Jackson Brighton-Abduction
Jackson eyed the pale blue of the vein in her arm. Just one slice and it will all go away, she thought. The thought was dreamy and warm, almost comforting in its simplicity. One slice and it will all go. The voices, the dreams, the music. It will all just turn grey and go. She smiled a little at the thought and reached for the bottle of bourbon. She'd given up on a cup earlier in the day, after she had broken the third one in some sort of adolescent fit of rage.
How adolescent would it be to slice my wrist with a broken bottle? she mused. It would be adolescent, this Jackson knew, but it gave the ideal a kind of macabre appeal. Stanley would care how it looked, he would care if it appeared juvenile. Maybe that could be her farewell gift to him. Or maybe none of it really mattered. Maybe trying to get even with her father just proved how little any of it meant.
Just one slice. She wasted no time contemplating what happened after. She knew there was nothing waiting for her after, just as she knew no one would miss her. She took another swig of her bourbon and then set the bottle aside. Jackson seized a fragment of one of the shattered water glasses and ran it over her wrist, almost playfully. One slice, she mused and then she made the first cut, without hesitating, without pausing.
Jackson closed her eyes and let the greyness wash over her. Its the greyness she'd been fighting for so long, the greyness that had always threatened to take her and wash away all of the color she would ever see. She closed her eyes, not caring as her front door opened and closed and the sound of footsteps entered her apartment. It would take much more than a paramedic to save her from the greyness. It would take much more than one person to save her from herself.