Dark Nights [Liz Only] [One Parter] {COMPLETE}

[Strawbehrie_Nazwell]

Author: Nadia [Strawbehrie_Nazwell]
Email: naz__behr@hotmail.com
Rated: MATURE for language and Content.
Summary: Elizabeth's life was never perfect.

Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not own any aspect of Roswell. Those rights belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB, UPN, 20th Century Fox, etc. Disclaimer added by moderator.

Authors Note: I wrote this for my English Language Test without the obvious Roswell element- Elizabeth. I re-wrote it today. It has no aliens & has no Max. This story is based around only Elizabeth & her somewhat messed up life. I hope you like it because i loved writing it. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Darkness always terrified me till I learned to make peace with it. After that it became my best friend, and in my silent state, solitude became one thing I became fond of. I remember the nights that I spent tucked under the covers covering my ears trying to block out the haunting sounds of my mother and father yelling. Many a night was spent by the window with my eyes glued to the thick blanket of darkness outside, and…and I remember- remember wanting to get lost in it; how my childish mind would make friends with the darkness, talking, laughing, playing because that was the only thing that would take my mind of things. I couldn't ever handle the situation at home. Dad was forever assaulting mom and they didn't ever seem to care that they had a child barely seven years of age looking at them with tears in her eyes, and asking them ever so quietly to stop yelling because she couldn't sleep. Never had they hugged her or kissed her goodnight. It was always the deep black darkness that hung around her never letting her go, even through those endless nights of crying.

Darkness was always there for me; my comfort, my friend. Sometime it would sing to me as I cried myself to sleep and sometimes it would listen as I told it how my dad had hit me for not washing the dishes. I was only seven. I had no friends except darkness and the night was my most hated and most loved part of the day.

I started detesting my parents. Hating my life each minute as it passed me. No one ever noticed how I was hurting. I kept it well hidden under fake smiles and fake excited eyes. Each day I greeted life with a lie; a happy smile. I kept my distance from people. Never had best friends, save darkness. I always taught myself how to lie about my bruises. I became known as a klutz and I didn’t care. It was better than having people know that I came from a family that taught me to hate, hated me and a family I hated more than anything else in life. Dysfunctional fucks. It was this very reason I kept away from anything that would love me because I feared getting hurt. I had never been hugged or kissed so I didn’t know what it felt like to be held in the arms of people who would truly love you. I kept it all to myself. Never let any of my emotions run free.

Soon I was 19. No longer was I the girl who hid behind her tainted smiles with the excitement in her eyes to greet life each morning. I had grown up and learned to accept my life, or so I thought. I no longer cried, instead when my parents yelled I yelled back. At times I would runaway but they would always find me and after that I would be hit , assaulted by my father, the fucking man who brought me into this insane messed up life. According to him he hit because he couldn't comprehend why I was behaving the way I did. I was a bitch according to him; no one would ever love me. No one would ever love a worthless bitch like me. I didn’t deserve love. I was fucked up in the head; like my mother.

'You’re like your mother! You ignorant, ungrateful little slut. Good for nothing little bitch. Worthless whore.' he'd taunt me as he'd hit me, taking all the pleasure in bruising every place on my body in his drunken haze, and after he was done I’d run to my room and let the hot tears that I had held back, trickle freely. I did not want to give my ‘father’ the satisfaction of letting him know, that he had indeed hurt me. The tears would rush down my cheeks dampening my bruises and scarring my cheeks with dried up tear stains. Through those nights darkness would hug me tight and whisper soothing words into my ears. But the pain would never ease, cease or go away. Why wouldn’t it go away? Hadn’t I had more than enough? Where was my ‘God’ through all of this? Why didn’t he listen to my prayers? Was I really that bad? Was I really that undeserving of any sort of mercy? My faint thinned each time until I had no hope, nor faith left within me.

The whisperings in the dark had now become and integral part of me, my nocturnal friends, kept on telling me there was one way of making the pain go away.

'Anything,’ I said. 'Just make this pain go away. Make this pain leave me. I’m dying on the inside. I can no longer feel myself live.' And I’d break down and cry and each time I would beg for the cure.

‘Bleed. Cut, strike. Hurt yourself. It’s that easy.' came the dark voices. I hesitated, but not for long. Soon, every night I found myself by the sink, washing the blood off an overused razor. It helped. The blood pouring from my wrist eased the pain; made my feel human- it gave me a high. When I hurt too much I cut deeper and harder, striking my wrists not once but many times, until the blood dropped down my arm in an unstoppable rush, cover the razor in my hand in blood, making it look like a blood soaked glove. Sometimes I knew I had to stop.

I could die I rationalized. But my mind would refuse to listen and my heart didn't want it to stop. So it went on until one fine day I cut too deep. I popped an important blood vessel. My eyes rolled back as I dropped to the floor. My crime was to be found. I didn't care. The blood soaked the carpeted bathroom. I didn't care. My eyes closed and I sighed. I doubted that anyone would miss a person like me. The world had been ridden of it burden and as I entered the dark depths of black, Darkness hugged me yet again, welcoming me into its comforting folds. It was my one true friend.

"Welcome my sweet Elizabeth to your humble home." it said.
Now I dwell in this darkness, my new home, playing & laughing & just for once I am truly happy.


--------------