(no subject)
I always imagined hell to be well, hot and horrible and all the other non-fairytale stuff that everyone learns at Sunday school. I mean sure, the book of Revelations, goes a bit deeper and warns of the world’s impeding doom, but you see I never believed in any sort of after life, good or bad. I’ve seen way to much supernatural shit to actually believe anything, unless I’ve seen it or lived through it. My hell, you ask? Well that’s an entirely new topic. My first time…yeah, that’s right, the first time I was in hell. Everyone says that you never come back, well that’s a load of bullshit, I mean look around. Where the hell do demons and vampires and all the other shit that Wolfram and Hart employ come from? It sure as hell isn’t the white pearly gates with the luscious green grass and angels with wings and angelic voices, because obviously that’s not Wolfram and Hart’s forte. Death, Evil, and Destruction; however, is an entirely different subject. Where Wolfram and Hart completely excel and dominate.
All those times someone has ever wished something bad would happen or if something bad did happen, 99.8% of the time it was Wolfram and Hart, and the other .2% Wolfram and Hart still had a hand, claw, or paw in it. Nothing happened without someone already knowing about it. I personally think that a seer of some sort is already employed, at least someone who has the general idea of the future, granted nobody has a set destiny…unless of course you’re me. Then you’re banished to this mortal life, and even when you go to hell, you’re still being tortured.
I never really considered myself evil. Although, I’m sure I did more damage than Adolf Hitler, if the punishment is directly related to the pain and suffering I caused. I doubt Hitler has been to hell twice.
My first time was a walk in the park so to say, in the fact that it was the same thing over and over again. It was still horrible and I can still feel the knife being dragged along my skin, the pain, the sound, the smell, everything, it’s all so real. I was doomed to the same thing over and over again, coming home to a normal 1960’s lifestyle, and then going into the basement and having my heart ripped out.
It definitely wasn’t one of my finer moments, with the screaming and the pleading, but I’m human. I like pain as much as the next masochist but even that was too much for me. Then there was the white light, the end or something, I thought I was finally going to be rid of my soul, and feeling. Imagine my disappointment when I realized it was Angel and his stupid group of goody goods. I thought for sure I was in yet another level of hell, where Angel and his group would try to convert me to their ways and tell me that I was still worth saving or some load of bullshit. Then Gunn volunteered to take my place for eternity, I’m not sure he understood exactly what he was giving up, but I wasn’t going to give him a chance to change his mind. I jumped right on the chance to get out of my own personal hell.
Of course, I wasn’t saved because I was a saint, but because Angel needed something. I have to admit I did owe the guy, he did save me.
Then there was the little problem with the Senior partners, and of course by little I mean me running away to get tattooed, so I could slip under the radar and avoid detection, and yet another plan that was wasted when I was stripped of my tattoos and the senior partners found me, let’s just say they definitely weren’t too happy with me, but hey, my loyalties are up for the highest bidder. I’ve never been one to completely ignore deals, I mean anyone can be bought for the right price, it’s just a matter of finding that one thing that will push someone over. That’s why I was such a damn asset for Wolfram and Hart back then, I’d do anything to make sure I got my contracts signed.
Right…moving along back to my present surroundings. Quite a nice place in my head, the party never ends.
“Lindsey, don’t go. Stay here, protect us!” Abby cried as she clung to my leg.
“Abby, you’ll be ok. Nothing’s going to happen, I can’t take this anymore. I refuse to be like her, white trailer trash, I’m going to make something of myself. If you’ve got half a brain you will to. Look at her, she’s nothing Abigail.” I scolded my younger sister as I pushed her away, she was only a few years younger me, and she was the acting mother to our younger brothers and sister. I was acting father, since ours had walked out on us at such a young age.
“Why does everything have to be about you Lindsey? Huh? Don’t you care? I thought family was everything! You don’t love me! Or us! You just want to get out of here, are we that disgusting that you can’t stand to be with us?!” Abby shouts.
“Abby, I told you. Go back to school, it’s not too late you can get out of here too. It’s not your job to be mom, just like it’s not my job to be dad!” I shouted back. I was angry at my mom for letting Abby drop out to take care of the kids, we never had a childhood, we were always busy taking care of each other.
“FINE! I HATE YOU LINDSEY! LEAVE! You’re no different than him!” She screamed tears filling her eyes.
That’s become quite a vivid memory lately, maybe it’s because I was watching my sister being tortured and beaten by my mom’s many boyfriends. I wouldn’t even call them that, she did whatever she could for a hit of whatever drug she was on and some free beer.
It was horrible to watch, it was as if it was a twisted and perverted home video where I had to watch these horrible things happen to my little brothers and sisters. Abby was right, I should have stayed and protected them, thinking about it now.
I didn’t see it that way at the time, I was ready to get out and go to law school, that’s just me. Career driven, I always have been, looking back at my cracked out mother reminded me why I’m the way I am.
I feel horrible about the things that happened to them, but it wasn’t me doing it. I couldn’t do anything it had already happened.
Everything’s blurry again and I’m unconscious, it’s actually pretty sad. I look forward to blacking out during the torture, I end up losing so much blood that my body collapses and I finally get sleep with no nightmares. Then I’m revived and the torture starts all over again, and all I can hear in my head is screaming and my entire body is wet, it’s blood all over me. It takes a few hours before I realize that it’s me screaming and my body is covered in sweat and I realize later that I had pissed myself, the pain so overwhelming.
Once the demons leave I lift the shard of my shirt up and look at my chest, seeing the burn marks, the teeth marks from the rat, the knife marks and all sorts of bruises. I have bruises and cuts on top of cuts and bruises. I don’t know how much the human body can endure, but it sure seems like a helluva lot.
It’s time to lay on the cold floor and try to sleep and deal with more nightmares until the pain and agony starts back up.
Honestly, I never envisioned my end being at the hands of a horned green demon, especially Lorne. I always figured I’d go down in a bloody battle, with Angel looming over me and saying something sarcastic about, “I’m more human than you are. You don’t deserve to still be breathing.” I’d reply with something witty, “Right, because killing me is going to magically going to wash away every bad thing you’ve ever done.” It seems that nothing in life is ever planned though, obviously I figured that out early in life, but it’s still a shock that I died from being shot by Lorne. So much for going down in history as a great force and dying for a cause.
This is me…Lindsey McDonald, ex-lawyer, ex-brother, ex-human…this is what I’ve been reduced to. A piece of meat.