You wake up to find yourself in a white room, on a white bed with white sheets, covered in a white blanket. You look down at your body and see that you are in a long white gown and you wonder where you are.
You look around the white room and see a white table. There is a white vase full of colorful flowers. They are they only non-white thing in this room that you've seen so far.
You blink a few times and realize that your eyesight is a bit hazy. Now you see that the walls are actually a very pale yellow and the bed is almost a light tan color. You try to move but you can't. You feel too weak.
You look at your wrists, wrapped in pure white gauze and you wonder why. Then you remember. You remember everything.
You remember crying in your room. You remember seeing your puffy red eyes and your hideous face and understanding that it's better for everyone, especially yourself, if you leave. You remember the tack that you found and you remember standing over your sink, ruby red blood trickling from your wrists. You remember smiling with joy, with freedom. You remember feeling the beautiful pain, the pain that reminded you of sensation and told you that yes, yes you are leaving, and everything would be alright.
So why are you still here?
You want to yell, scream, thrash about until you can thrash no more. You want to break something, kick a wall, punch a window, to let the redness well up and ooze out of you again.
Most of all, you want to cry, because when you cry you feel everything and nothing at once.
You glance about wildly with blurry eyes and notice the bag of blood. It is attached to your arm and blood is trickling it.
No! you want to shout. Stop! This is not right!
You want to rip the bag from you and throw it somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's away from you. But you are too weak, oh so weak. You cannot move.
So you cry.
Your tears slide into your mouth and they are salty and bitter with disappointment.
"Are you alright?" says a kind voice and you want to howl, No! No, I'm not alright, because I'm still here! I'm still here and nothing can be right!
But you only have the strength to open your crying eyes and the shape of a person standing hesitantly next to your bed. You blink the water from your eyes and recognize her.
She is a girl and she is beautiful.
She is someone you used to know, before you caved in on yourself. She is someone who continued to be nice to you, even when you yelled at her and made her cry. She is someone who tried to chisel her way into your heart and failed, oh she failed, because you have no heart left.
And yet your chest hurts at the sight of her. You see her and you hurt. And you want it all to go away.
"George?" she says, biting her lip. "Are you – why are you crying?"
You voice is yanked out of you from somewhere deep, and you croak painfully, "Because I'm alive."
"Why don't you want that?"
"Because I'm bad and I want to go."
And then she utters those words, those beautiful words that mean everything to you and she cannot know it: "But I don't want you to go."
"Why?" you cry hoarsely, barely above a whisper. "Why would you want that? After everything I've done and said, why?"
She only shakes her head. "No, George, you're wrong. You haven't done anything, but try to live. And it got too hard because you wouldn't let anyone help. But I want to help."
"I don't need help!"
"You're right, you don't need it. But I want to give it to you, George. Don't you get it?" And then she says those terrible words, the lie of all lies: "I love you."
"No! There is no such thing as love!" you struggle to scream. "No such thing!"
"But there is," she insists, shaking her head.
And you know it, but you don't want to, because it means that all this time, all these years, love existed and you never had it. Because you were never worthy of it.
"You can't, you can't! I'm a monster! Leave me alone!"
"You're no monster," she tells you sharply. "You just want to protect everyone, because you are good and loving."
"I'm not," you sob. "I'm not!"
She steps closer to you and you recoil from her. Except you can't because you can't move. So you keep crying and crying, tears staining your face, your hair, your pillow.
Her hand reaches out and touches your cheek and you gasp. How can she bear to touch you? You don't understand.
"Why? Why me? I just wanted a family! I just wanted someone to love me!"
"I love you, George," she says again. "I'll be your family."
"Will you?" you say tearfully, not daring to believe it. "Will you really?"
She smiles and you can only stare in awe at the beauty of it. "Yes, really."
But no, this is a dream. So you sigh and smile. "Ah, this is a nice dream," you whisper.
Suddenly there is a fire in your wrists, your arms. You frown and she notices.
"What's wrong?" she asks you.
"My arms hurt. But this is a dream."
"No, George, this is no dream. This is real." She smiles at you and says, "I'll be right back."
Your eyes widen with fear. "No, don't leave me! You're lying! You won't come back! Don't leave me!"
You try to reach out to her but you can't move and your arms hurt.
She just smiles through her own tears and walks away.
You know that if she loves you she would not leave. You know this and yet you know that if she loves you she will come back. You know this. So you close your eyes and wait. You wait and wait and wait. You wait until you do not know what you know and finally she is back, with a woman in white behind her.
"See, George, I am back." She smiles at you and the heart you once had is reborn.
It is small at first, but soon you can feel the cautious rhythm of your heartbeat in your chest once more. It is an odd feeling, and you find that you've missed it all these years. You shriveled it, dried it, but it never disappeared and you know this now. It will never disappear again.
The knowledge makes you close your eyes as you cry silently. Your tears have yet to stop but now you taste them and they are salty-sweet because you are crying with joy.
As you were once reborn in flames of hate, you are now reborn in tears of love. You open your eyes and see the world in bright, shining colors. Hope blooms in this white of the room and you look at her, at this girl who gave you life and showed you truth.
She is dressed in a rainbow and she colors your world, dazzling you. She is a girl who somehow managed to worm her way into your soul and make a home there without you noticing. She is a girl whose tears make you weak and smiles give you strength.
She is a girl who is kneeling by your bedside, hugging your head gently and stroking your face and hair.
"George, are you okay?" she whispers into your ear, still hugging your head.
You know she will never leave you alone. You will never be alone again.
You smile. "Yes, Seraphina." You laugh in wonder. "Yes, I'm okay. And I love you."
She laughs with you and it is the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.
Your arm slowly, haltingly, lifts from the bed, because you are filled with strength again, as you once were before everything went wrong. You lift your arm and you touch her soft hair and you close your eyes, knowing that she will be here when you wake.
You are finally, finally okay because you are finally, finally not alone.
A/N: So I finally decided to finish this! Because "The End of You" wasn't really meant to be the end, and I knew it from the time I wrote it, but I never had the chance to write this last part. And now I have. It's been a while so the feel of it might be a little different. Hopefully it's not too oddly disjointed.
Wow this was an emotional ride. It actually made me cry. I hope no one has to go through so much but the world is a beautiful, vicious place and people are cruel. But there is someone for everyone who will make you think, "Wow, life is good."
Whoever is still reading this, I hope you liked this ending. Thank you for reading.
And of course, thank you to vikkic222, who do you think i am foaf (peanuts and paydays), Link's Bromance, and Codec264 for reviewing! Thanks, guys. Enjoy this last chapter! (Let me know if you think the ending doesn't do the story justice. I just wrote it all in one go and I'm not completely sure about it but I'm posting it all the same.)
© Copyright 2012 by The Siege