Mending Broken Wings - Part 4
Title: Mending Broken Wings - Part 4
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 1149 words
Summary: The rehab days
Rating: R for some swearing.
Disclaimer: This is not real. But I warn you, it may make you want to hug Lindsay.
Samantha dozes off uncomfortably but jolts herself awake just as quickly. Every time she closes her eyes, all she can see is Lindsay, wildly out of control.
She remembers nights when the girl was so incapacitated that she couldn't form full words let alone sentences, her pupils so dialated that it was impossible to see the murky green of her beautiful eyes; most times she couldn't have kept her eyes open even if they were held open.
Sometimes she wishes she had just turned around and walked away - made a run for it while she still had some of her sanity left. She remembers that first night, when she walked in on Lindsay dusting white powder from a marble bathroom countertop.
"Well, hey there beautiful," the redhead had said, tossing her long hair behind her shoulders. Her eyes opened once, wide, and then closed tightly as she wobbled back and forth.
"What're you doing?" Samantha had asked suspiciously, approaching the girl with her arms outstretched. She worried Lindsay might fall and wanted to be there to catch her. "Was that what I think it was?"
Lindsay giggled and nodded. "Want some?" She licked the end of her pinky finger seductively and dipped it into a small plastic bag of white substance. She collected some on her fingertip, extending it toward Samantha.
Samantha pushed the girl's arm away. She resisted with more than average strength and slid the fingertip into her mouth and along her bottom gum line. "Are you fucking stupid? That shit could kill you!" Samantha exclaimed, backing herself away from Lindsay and toward a bathroom stall.
"Uh huh, and so could smoking. Besides, I only do it once in awhile. It's not, like, an every day thing," Lindsay said. Samantha believed her, though she remembers deep down feeling her stomach twist uneasily with doubt.
Samantha grabbed her by the arm as her legs wobbled, trying to hold her up. “You’re a fucking wreck - you need to go home,” she urged.
Lindsay finally steadied herself and stared at Samantha seriously. “What? You’ve never tried it?” She yanked her arm from the woman’s grip.
Samantha rolled her eyes. Of course she had tried it - not many people she knew hadn’t - and she knew it was some sort of ‘rite of passage’ for young celebrities. She had done it to fit in. If it hadn’t been for some wise advice from her step-dad, who had seen his share of the sex, drugs & rock n roll lifestyle, she also knew it would have ruined her life.
She snuck into a bathroom stall and began to lock the door when it came flying back at her.
Just as she was about to yell at the offender on the opposite side, she realized it was still just Lindsay. The girl pushed the door aside and Samantha with it. She slammed the woman up against the cold cement wall, her skin burning with pure adrenaline.
Before Samantha had time to react, the girl’s hands were against her cheeks and her mouth against the woman’s. Any chance she had of resisting the determined redhead had disappeared in that kiss.
She sits staring at her watch as the sun rises, waiting until five minutes to eight before starting up her car and driving to the rehab centre.
She rubs her tired eyes as she climbs from the vehicle and stretches. Her muscles hurt and her stomach rumbles with hunger. It doesn’t matter - she knows as soon as she sees Lindsay, she’ll forget all about her own pain and focus on the girl’s.
At the front desk, she speaks to a different receptionist; this one is less suspicious of her. She asks the woman to have Lindsay meet her outside; a little fresh air might do them both some good.
Samantha lights up a cigarette but drops it immediately when she sees Lindsay limp out onto the terrace. She runs toward her. The girl looks exhausted. Dark circles loom beneath both of her eyes. Her movements are slow but twitchy. Samantha wraps her arms around Lindsay’s shoulders and pulls the girl’s head onto her shoulder.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” the woman asks. She presses her cheek to Lindsay’s forehead. Her skin is clammy and scorching hot. “And you’re burning up.”
The girl’s entire body shakes as she shivers.
“That’s weird because I’m freezing,” Lindsay says. Her teeth chatter and her skin starts to discolour. Samantha backs up; she’s seen this before. She pulls the girl’s hair back away from her face and waits. Lindsay heaves, bile from her stomach nearly landing on Samantha’s sneakers.
This brings back memories - unpleasant ones - for Samantha. Nights when Lindsay had had too much. Samantha would sit by her, rubbing her back and soothing her like she were a child sick with the flu. She would wipe away the streaks of mascara that ran down the girl’s cheeks.
Lindsay would cry because her throat burned from the vodka, but mostly because she didn’t want to do this anymore. Consciously, she knew she could stop and had to stop. At the end of every one of these nights, Lindsay always promised this was the last time. “I’m done,” she’d say. “I can’t do this anymore.” Until the next night.
But this time Lindsay cries because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her throat hurts from heaving but nothing coming out. She hasn’t eaten in days because she has no appetite. Not for food. For drugs. Her head throbs but Tylenol doesn’t help her the way a bottle of vodka would or an eight ball. Her chest hurts when she breathes - she’s begun to smoke 2 packs of Parliaments a day - and her nose feels impossibly dry.
“I need out of here. Now.”
Samantha cradles the girl in her arms. “Where do you want to go? Pick a place and we’ll go.”
Lindsay sighs and sputters a few tears. “I can’t go anywhere. Punishment for missing curfew last night. I have to earn it back like I’m a fucking five year old.”
Samantha rocks Lindsay in her arms and kisses the girl’s forehead. The girl’s breath is offensive and sour from vomiting but Samantha stays close. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you back sooner.”
Lindsay laughs. “Or not at all.”
Samantha shrugs. She watches a grin turn up the ends of Lindsay’s mouth. “I had to, you know that.”
“You can look after me better than any of these people can, Samantha.”
Samantha nods. “I know.”
“So get me out of here. Take me home with you.”
Samantha shrugs and looks to the exit. She can see her car from here and there are no security guards patrolling this early; they’re checking all the rooms to make sure there were no overnight disturbances. Red flashes behind both of her eyes and her heart beats quickly.
“Let’s go.”
Author: xjekkix
Word Count: 1149 words
Summary: The rehab days
Rating: R for some swearing.
Disclaimer: This is not real. But I warn you, it may make you want to hug Lindsay.
Samantha dozes off uncomfortably but jolts herself awake just as quickly. Every time she closes her eyes, all she can see is Lindsay, wildly out of control.
She remembers nights when the girl was so incapacitated that she couldn't form full words let alone sentences, her pupils so dialated that it was impossible to see the murky green of her beautiful eyes; most times she couldn't have kept her eyes open even if they were held open.
Sometimes she wishes she had just turned around and walked away - made a run for it while she still had some of her sanity left. She remembers that first night, when she walked in on Lindsay dusting white powder from a marble bathroom countertop.
"Well, hey there beautiful," the redhead had said, tossing her long hair behind her shoulders. Her eyes opened once, wide, and then closed tightly as she wobbled back and forth.
"What're you doing?" Samantha had asked suspiciously, approaching the girl with her arms outstretched. She worried Lindsay might fall and wanted to be there to catch her. "Was that what I think it was?"
Lindsay giggled and nodded. "Want some?" She licked the end of her pinky finger seductively and dipped it into a small plastic bag of white substance. She collected some on her fingertip, extending it toward Samantha.
Samantha pushed the girl's arm away. She resisted with more than average strength and slid the fingertip into her mouth and along her bottom gum line. "Are you fucking stupid? That shit could kill you!" Samantha exclaimed, backing herself away from Lindsay and toward a bathroom stall.
"Uh huh, and so could smoking. Besides, I only do it once in awhile. It's not, like, an every day thing," Lindsay said. Samantha believed her, though she remembers deep down feeling her stomach twist uneasily with doubt.
Samantha grabbed her by the arm as her legs wobbled, trying to hold her up. “You’re a fucking wreck - you need to go home,” she urged.
Lindsay finally steadied herself and stared at Samantha seriously. “What? You’ve never tried it?” She yanked her arm from the woman’s grip.
Samantha rolled her eyes. Of course she had tried it - not many people she knew hadn’t - and she knew it was some sort of ‘rite of passage’ for young celebrities. She had done it to fit in. If it hadn’t been for some wise advice from her step-dad, who had seen his share of the sex, drugs & rock n roll lifestyle, she also knew it would have ruined her life.
She snuck into a bathroom stall and began to lock the door when it came flying back at her.
Just as she was about to yell at the offender on the opposite side, she realized it was still just Lindsay. The girl pushed the door aside and Samantha with it. She slammed the woman up against the cold cement wall, her skin burning with pure adrenaline.
Before Samantha had time to react, the girl’s hands were against her cheeks and her mouth against the woman’s. Any chance she had of resisting the determined redhead had disappeared in that kiss.
She sits staring at her watch as the sun rises, waiting until five minutes to eight before starting up her car and driving to the rehab centre.
She rubs her tired eyes as she climbs from the vehicle and stretches. Her muscles hurt and her stomach rumbles with hunger. It doesn’t matter - she knows as soon as she sees Lindsay, she’ll forget all about her own pain and focus on the girl’s.
At the front desk, she speaks to a different receptionist; this one is less suspicious of her. She asks the woman to have Lindsay meet her outside; a little fresh air might do them both some good.
Samantha lights up a cigarette but drops it immediately when she sees Lindsay limp out onto the terrace. She runs toward her. The girl looks exhausted. Dark circles loom beneath both of her eyes. Her movements are slow but twitchy. Samantha wraps her arms around Lindsay’s shoulders and pulls the girl’s head onto her shoulder.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” the woman asks. She presses her cheek to Lindsay’s forehead. Her skin is clammy and scorching hot. “And you’re burning up.”
The girl’s entire body shakes as she shivers.
“That’s weird because I’m freezing,” Lindsay says. Her teeth chatter and her skin starts to discolour. Samantha backs up; she’s seen this before. She pulls the girl’s hair back away from her face and waits. Lindsay heaves, bile from her stomach nearly landing on Samantha’s sneakers.
This brings back memories - unpleasant ones - for Samantha. Nights when Lindsay had had too much. Samantha would sit by her, rubbing her back and soothing her like she were a child sick with the flu. She would wipe away the streaks of mascara that ran down the girl’s cheeks.
Lindsay would cry because her throat burned from the vodka, but mostly because she didn’t want to do this anymore. Consciously, she knew she could stop and had to stop. At the end of every one of these nights, Lindsay always promised this was the last time. “I’m done,” she’d say. “I can’t do this anymore.” Until the next night.
But this time Lindsay cries because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her throat hurts from heaving but nothing coming out. She hasn’t eaten in days because she has no appetite. Not for food. For drugs. Her head throbs but Tylenol doesn’t help her the way a bottle of vodka would or an eight ball. Her chest hurts when she breathes - she’s begun to smoke 2 packs of Parliaments a day - and her nose feels impossibly dry.
“I need out of here. Now.”
Samantha cradles the girl in her arms. “Where do you want to go? Pick a place and we’ll go.”
Lindsay sighs and sputters a few tears. “I can’t go anywhere. Punishment for missing curfew last night. I have to earn it back like I’m a fucking five year old.”
Samantha rocks Lindsay in her arms and kisses the girl’s forehead. The girl’s breath is offensive and sour from vomiting but Samantha stays close. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you back sooner.”
Lindsay laughs. “Or not at all.”
Samantha shrugs. She watches a grin turn up the ends of Lindsay’s mouth. “I had to, you know that.”
“You can look after me better than any of these people can, Samantha.”
Samantha nods. “I know.”
“So get me out of here. Take me home with you.”
Samantha shrugs and looks to the exit. She can see her car from here and there are no security guards patrolling this early; they’re checking all the rooms to make sure there were no overnight disturbances. Red flashes behind both of her eyes and her heart beats quickly.
“Let’s go.”