Darker Destiny: Somebody Save Me
By Nadja Lee 14/05/02
English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: X-men and all the characters here belong to Marvel, 20 Century Fox and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of it.
Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author. Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of the author.
Timeline: Set in the movie universe/an AU. Before the movie
Universe: Set in the movie universe; NOT the book which goes with it.
Summary: A young woman tells of her life and the thoughts that haunt her.
Archiving: Want, ASK, take, have.
Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is nadjalee2000@...
Warning: May contain disturbing elements. This is a VERY dark tale! You have been warned.
Sequel/series: Part of the Darker Destiny series.
Thanks to Estelle for the Beta.
Have you ever wondered what it is like to stand in the middle of a room filled with people...and feel totally alone
I always felt kinda stupid writing that but Im used to it now. Ive been keeping a diary since I was eleven. Theyre not for anyone to read in, no one would care to anyhow. Writing just
calms my thoughts for a little while.
Today I attended a conference. Lots of important people and meetings
.standing with a drink in my hand, in a dress thats uncomfortable and looking at all the others. Standing there in the middle of the room
.and I felt so alone I wanted to cry.
I do this to myself; thats the sad part. I should be happy but Im not. I have never been happy. I rarely relax or feel at ease. Alone, in my own dark little corner of the world, hidden from view; here Im safe
Its my childhood. Its always your upbringing. I wonder if parents know how much they can damage a child? I like children but I dont want any for myself. If life is what Ive been put through I wouldnt wish it on anyone and least of all my own child. No, my unborn baby, stay hidden and safe. Itll be best for you.
On the outside we were the perfect family; my father was a university professor and highly respected, my mother tended to my sister and me. It could have been perfect but it never was. My father had a hot temper and when he got into one of his moods
.I was never comfortable even here in the safety of my own words to say he beat me but hell spank me or hit me in the face if he felt I spoke back to him. Does that count as abuse? I dont know. Ive never talked with anyone about it. As a child I figured it was normal. That it was normal to fear your father, normal to hardly be able to control your happiness when your mother said he would be gone on business for 3 weeks
why would I believe it to be anything but normal?
Time passed and I started school. I grew older but not less fearful of my father. It was the ever present threat of punishment that scared me more than the actual punishment itself. I quickly learned to speak what he wanted to hear but my sister never did. She always got into trouble and was a terrible liar
to watch her humiliation was worse than anything. I cant even bring myself to write it down, less alone speak of it. No, keep it hidden; always hidden.
I grew up and became a teenager. Time changed my parents. Suddenly everything that had been forbidden was encouraged. Why dont you date? Why dont you go out to party? Those questions were asked in the same breath as Why do you bring so bad grades home? Nothing save A+ was ever good enough. Those two statements could never be satisfied at the same time so I never went anywhere; I stayed and studied and watched as life passed me by; too afraid of ghosts to do anything about it.
I moved away from home yet I took my ghosts with me. I stayed home; I didnt dare to have too much fun. I was afraid of something that wasnt even there anymore. Time passed, I grew more lonely and the darkness grew colder. I began to think way too much over everything, began to psychoanalyse myself and always found I was insane which didnt improve my mood. Yet I kept going onwards, blindly so. I had been pushed forward all my life; I didnt know how to stop now.
In my heart I think I always and still long for their respect and approval but nothing is ever good enough. Now, a doctor and 30 years old its still not enough and Im still alone. My thoughts haunt and torment me with what ifs and whys. I fear people yet I long for them too. I want to reach out for them but I fear them if they come too close.
In the darkness Im safe. Alone but safe. Here, I can sit, the stillness my only witness if I should break down, cry, throw stuff around or take up a razor blade and cut small, fine tracks on my arms, watch the red blood with a strange form of fascination. No one will ever know and no one will care if they do.
I must end this now. I have shift tomorrow at 6. Strange, even now I cant break just that rule; go to bed in proper time.