Rachel

I've been running all my life. Away from the horrid memories of the sacrifices my mother made to protect me, and to protect my name from this evil world we live in...
But everything's changed...
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I've recently found out my mother was murdered by a psychopath; choosing the wrong pill in a game of chance that would give away her secret. That gave away my name.
That cost her her life...
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I heard a man named Sherlock Holmes had solved my mother's case along with others who had fallen of the same fate. I must find him so I can warn him: for he does not know what he has gotten himself into...

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35. Rachel - Part 2: Resurrection

PSYCH! dear readers, i apologize for making you believe that was the last line of the fanfic "Rachel" you've ever read. i could only imagine the expressions on your faces when you read that last chapter...*laughs evilly*

*wipes tear from eye* anyways, i thought about making this into a separate movella sequel, but then i thought, hey, maybe i can just keep adding to the original and make this like a part 2 or something...so here we are!!!

I can also only imagine the looks on your faces when you saw this new chapter for "Rachel": I bet you were all like "wHAAAAAAT?! I THOUGHT IT WAS OVER THO!"

no my friends, it is far from over ;)

i hope you enjoy this installment of Rachel: Part 2

HK

 

"Alright, everyone!" The almost too cheery man says to us. "Let's start by introducing ourselves, shall we?"
We went around the circle, saying our names and telling everyone why were in this really stupid and utterly useless support group.

"I'm Sally, and I'm a smoker."
"I'm Tom, and...I did cocaine for a while...but I promise, I've stopped."
Liar.
"I'm Gabriel, and I am a depressed alcoholic."
Also a liar.
"I'm Tori...and I have tried to commit suicide...three times."
And she cuts her wrists on a daily basis, not to mention the way she gets treated by her parents for wanting to be an author. Alas, I suppose she deserves it since she chose quite a poor career path to follow.

"Would you just shut up for a moment..." I say through a clenched jaw.

We constantly repeat the useless cycle of saying "Hello" with the other people in this circle of mishaps and mistakes. Some people even clapped, as if you needed to be rewarded for admitting that you were doing something that was your own fault. Everyone did this, until I was the only person who had not yet introduced myself.


"Come on," the sprightly leader gabs. "You'll feel much better after you've put why you're here out there."
I gulp nervously.


Now, now, Rachel, Sherlock says out of the corner of the room. Just give him what he wants. Besides, you wouldn't have come here if you didn't have a simple problem.

"Hello, everyone..." I start. I look back at Sherlock, and he motions his hands to edge me on. "My name is Rachel..."
"Hello, Rachel." The dull monotone responds. I only nod.

"Why I'm here...may take some explaining to do," I hear groans of boredom from a few. "Well, if you all don't mind."
"No please, go ahead. Take as long as you need to." The now less lively man states.
I take a deep breath, and in his little crevasse of the room, Sherlock nods for me to continue.

 

"Two friends of mine...close friends...died two years ago. I saw it all happen too," I feel tears form in my eyes, but I blink them away just as quickly as they appear. "One of them got shot in the head trying to save me...the other jumped off a building." I don't even look up to see the group's reaction, already knowing that they're probably flabbergasted.

"After they died, I couldn't help but feel responsible, as any person would. I mean, I had caused the death of my loving boyfriend's sister, and my friend who jumped off that building was..." I pause, and appreciate the blue sparkle of the teardrop sapphire charm on my necklace. "Like family..."

The group leader walks over to me reassuringly, and pats my shoulder. Just before he can say any of the sympathetic crap I've heard for the past two years, I continue: "But I'm not here just for that; I'm here for what's happened in the past two years...

"I've been seeing my friend who fell off the building almost everywhere I go, like a ghost. Every time I see him, these...voices, if you will, of almost everyone I know, living or dead, start screeching at the top of their lungs. My tolerance for these cries of suffering has increased over these past years...but, eventually, they always get to me.

"The first few times I heard these cries, I attempted to kill myself any way possible: throw myself out a window, cut my wrists, hang myself with whatever I could find,  and so on. However, there was one re-occurring way that I had wanted to die. You see, I lived next door to my friend who fell off the building when he was alive, and my boyfriend insisted that I come to stay with him until I get over this death and depression, since almost everything in that flat was reminding me of him. Later that night, I was moving some of my boxes...when I saw him.

"He gestured me to follow him up the stairs, and so I did, dropping the boxes with a loud thud. He led me to this little rooftop garden, and he was standing on the edge of the roof, looking back at me with a neutral expression and an extended hand. I take it, and take my place beside him on the ledge. I remember looking down and seeing some of the deserted pavement, and I looked back at my friend, who was already looking at me, and we both smiled. Tears were streaming down both our faces. Then, he started to countdown backwards from three.

3...

2...

1...

"NO, RACHEL!!! STOP!!!"

"Thank God my boyfriend was there, otherwise...I probably wouldn't be here today."

"I...I was going to jump with him, PJ..."

"No you weren't, Rachel. You know why?"

"...Why?"

"Because I love you, with all my heart and soul, and I would never, EVER, let that happen to you."

"R-really?"

"Yes; and don't you ever doubt it for a second."

I feel something wet on my cheeks, and I swipe my hand gently across my face to reveal a constant stream of tears that had been triggered by the memory. I take a deep breath, wipe my tears, and attempt to continue.

"I kept seeing him - my friend who I nearly jumped with - and every time I did, he would lead me to a roof or a balcony - any high place in general really - where I would almost plummet to my death beside him...but PJ was persistent, and has saved me from taking my own life a constant number of times." I look up to see a few peers in the group wipe tears off their cheeks just as I had. "I actually still see him today...my friend...but, today, I've decided, is where it stops. You see...I turn 17 today. I also made a promise to my boyfriend, that after only one more year of mourning, I would have to set my life straight again. We've already taken small steps with a lot of hard work and determination, but today is when it all finally pays off..." I glance quickly at my pink-encased phone to see the time: 6:42 PM. I chuckle to myself. "Well, speak of the devil," I say to the group as I get up out of my creaky wooden chair. "I'm terribly sorry, but I have to get going. My boyfriend is probably wondering how much longer I'm going to take." I then walk towards the door, now with a more comforting stride in my step. No one even tries to stop me as I exit the building, Sherlock sneaking along silently at my side.

That's right, I think to myself as I call out for a cab, today's the day.

 

Today, the screaming finally ends.

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