DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are used without permission. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally posted to my fanfiction.net account under the same title.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To howlingturtle[at]hotmail.com
"Daisy's not that thoughtful." That's what Rube said as we were looking through those paintings.
"You're wrong. I live with her. I watch her sometimes when she thinks nobody's looking she's sad about something." That girl in the picture really did remind me of Daisy. Small and thoughtful, while not generally used to describe the actress, do apply in those rare moments when she believes she's all alone.
I've watched her face change from bright, chipper, and open to sad, hurt, and lost. She cries at night when she thinks I can't hear her. It's unsettling to see her change so quickly. After Betty disappeared Daisy, while a pain in the butt, was actually comforting in her vapid ness. Now that she's beginning to show that she actually has feelings other than lust and greed I'm not sure what to think.
I mean, I know that she's human and is bound to have feelings but it's still weird. She came into my life and just took over. She usurped my apartment, my bathroom, and worst of all, my bed. I was angry at her for a long time over it, but she's been so sweet lately.
When Mason gave us the house he'd 'inherited' she automatically gave me the bigger room. She's stopped saying completely inane things to me, she still tells all those disturbing sex tales but I can deal with those. She's stopped treating me like I'm something less than her, like I'm second class in comparison. She'll actually talk to me like I'm a regular human being, which is a huge improvement.
She still calls me Georgia though and that gets on my nerves a little. I mean, why can't she just call me George? Everyone else does. It's not like I care whether it's lady-like or not, it's a nickname and I like it. I'm pretty sure she does it to irritate me; she wants to get some kind of reaction. She thrives off of reactions. I thought it was just so she could learn how to imitate genuine emotion, but now I think she gets real joy out of seeing and feeling emotions from others.
Lately she's been unusually quiet almost contemplative. I wonder what's wrong with her. I do watch her still, somehow I've come to care about her, and I need to make sure she's alright. Before I get the chance I'm sidetracked by Rube's post-it, the address is my own!
Why's he got a post-it addressed for my family's home? Who's going to die? I can't let anything happen to them! I know that I wasn't the best daughter in the world while I was alive but that doesn't mean I can't be one now! I won't let someone I love die, it just won't happen. I'll do everything I can to stop it from happening!
I'm remembering all the things I used to do with my family, how much I love them, how much I still need them; there are so many emotions going through me right now. The one felt most keenly is fear; actually it's more like terror. I can't imagine someone else in my family dying, my death was bad enough but to have another so soon would just be awful. The gravelings always find the most bizarre and upsetting methods of killing people, I don't want that for my family.
Grief fills me as I think of my family and that one may die soon. I don't want any of them to die. I remember all the fun times we've had, all the not so fun times, all the times when we were together in any capacity I never realized how happy they made me.
Turns out Rube didn't want anyone from my family at all, the milkman. He was such a sweet guy. I hope he enjoys whatever happens after crossing over. I've learned something from this ordeal, two things really; first, I love my family very much, second, I can't stop death no matter who it's going to happen to. That last part sucks, but I suppose everybody's got to go sometime.
The next day is the gravelings' day off; I'm still upset about all that happened last night so this will be a welcome reprieve. No one is going to die today. I thought that meant we might get a day off, but no! Rube decides it's time to update the ledger. Last thoughts are probably one of the most difficult ways he could have chosen to organize these people. What's wrong with using names? Geez, talk about obscure.
Reading through some of these thoughts, it started to make sense why we organize them this way all of them are so similar. People think the same type of last thoughts, mostly regrets. It reminds me of Betty's pictures. All people can be categorized into just a few categories, very few are truly unique; it's the same with the thoughts. They can all be lumped into a few categories. It's really quite depressing.
Writing it all down would take really long so we all convinced Rube to go digital. We would use the Happy Time office to get everything done. It'll take even longer if Mason keeps flirting with Daisy and she has to keep telling long mortifying stories to explain to him just how not-her-type he really is. But we're plodding along, page by page and thought by thought. I wish I'd I never should've No Yes Why?...This is a really depressing job. Daisy notices this too and she comes to me frantic in the copy room to tell me all that I'd already noticed, I see tears form in her eyes. This really upset her. Hell, it's upset me too.
It moves faster once Crystal joins and she and Roxy hit it off and start entering data like nobody's business. That left me with Rube and the monosyllabic thoughts. When everything is all typed we have to print it, save it, backup save it, print it again, then shut everything down making sure no one knows we were ever there. I double check to make sure that everything is off and I find that Mason, completely within his character, left his computer on with the data still up. I can't help but read what's there and what I see makes me want to cry.
"Adaire, Daisy. 'Why hasn't anyone ever loved me?'" It makes sense why she's been so pensive lately. Why she's so sad. She's been thinking about that since she reaped the painter. He made her reassess herself. She's had a lot of sex; surely at least one of those men loved her at least for a little while. Has she ever loved any of them?
That thought brought to mind that painting of the girl in black, she really did look like Daisy. I know Daisy has loved someone before, she must have. She wouldn't be so sad, and thinking that no one loved her if she didn't know what love felt like. I can't believe she thinks that no one loves her maybe it's because all she's had is meaningless sex none of those men loved her so she started thinking that no one ever would. Mason is just like one of those men, I like him well enough but he's just after sex.
God, it must hurt so much believing that no one loved you. She must be heart broken, that's why she's been so sad, why she cries sometimes when no one's looking. It makes my heart ache for her. She's only human, she has feelings too. I can feel the tears in my eyes thinking about her. And it hits me as the first ones fall I love her. I'm glad she's here and I think she needs to know that someone does love her, that someone cares, that someone will hold her hand and think of how wonderful she is.
I save and shut down the computer. Hopping on my bike I ride as quickly as possible, remembering that Daisy would be home alone (Mason having turned down her invite to a drink). I see the house, her light is on. I crash through the front door slamming it open and closed in practically the same movement. Moving quickly through the house I come to her room where, indeed, the light is on and she's sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her hands.
She looks up when she hears me at her door, noticing the state I'm in (namely out of breath and in tears) she marvels "What the hell Georgia? What's wrong with you?" in that southern accent of hers. She starts to get up but before she has the chance to move I've rushed to her and locked my arms around her middle, I'd hit her with such force that we fell backwards onto the bed.
"Georgia?! What the-"
"I love you Daisy!" I say it desperately and it stops her from speaking. "I love you and I'm glad that you're here. I'm happy that I met you, even though we were totally rude to each other and not friends at all at first. And even though I think you're completely annoying sometimes and disgustingly dumb sometimes, I also think you're absolutely adorable and completely capable of intelligence when you feel like it. I think you're wonderful and I love you and I thought you should know that." I'm panting and crying and my voice was an octave higher than it usually is so I squeaked most of that out.
I feel her arms settle around my upper back and shoulders as her head drops onto the bed. "Oh Georgia thank you." That makes me look up and I see a sad smile on her face and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes to soak into the blankets. Her arms tighten around me as I settle my head on her shoulder. I can feel her sobs shaking us both as I catch my breath. "Thank you."
I press my lips to her collar bone once and whisper "I love you" into her neck before nuzzling into her. She moves just enough to kiss the top of my head and whisper back "I love you too Georgia. I love you too." I think she's crying happy tears. I hope she is. I only wanted her to know that she's loved and always will be as long as I'm undead. Just before I fall asleep I hear her whisper "I love you Georgia. Thank you for loving me."
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