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Dying To Be Alive


Guest jenlee

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Story Title: Dying to be alive

Type of story: Medium/Long fiction

Main Characters: Mainly Aden and Belle plus some nic and Geoff

BTTB rating: A

Genre: Angst, drama

Does story include spoilers: possibly UK

Any warnings: Possibly, will say before each chapter

Summary: Aden returns to Summer Bay after a two year absense. What happened two years ago that was terrible enough to make him leave those he loved? How ill everyone take his return to the bay? And what horrible secrets will come out upon his return?

Intro is fairly short, hope you like it though :) Please comment

INTRODUCTION - 22/10/11

Early morning - 6.07am

Belle opened her eyes to the morning sun and was unsurprised to find herself already wishing she hadn’t woken. She never slept more than a few hours a night these days and, though the night never ceased her sorrow, she always preferred it to being awake. Most nights she fell asleep around two am and was awake around six, if not earlier.

She lay in bed for a few minutes, knowing she had to get up some time but unable to find any real will or want to do so. All she really wanted to do was hide under her covers all day. Maybe brood a little. Probably hate the world for all its injustices. Defiantly hate herself and the life she was living.

Although it hardly seemed fair to hate a life that was barely being lived, but that’s what she did anyway. In fact it seemed to be an everyday occurrence, almost a routine. Wake up. Despise her entire existence. Go to bed. Wake up. Despise her entire existence. Go to bed. Lather. Rinse Repeat.

Of course she tried to change things. She was making an effort. Its just seemed that no matter how hard she tried, everyday was an struggle. Of course some days were good days. Some days it only took her five, maybe ten minutes, to force herself out of bed rather than the usual half hour. Some days she was even found the idea of doing a shift at the diner pleasant. Some days she even found herself smiling at one of Romans stupid jokes or rolling her eyes humorously at Colleen’s gossiping.

None of those thing would happen today though. Today would be a bad day. One of the worst. She had known today would be bad for exactly a year as she knew it would be just like this day last year. That day had been one of the worst of her life and, though they say that things get easier over time, Belle simply wasn’t feeling it. Nothing was easier. Everything just kept feeling worse.

Having pre-warning of what a bad day was ahead didn’t make matters any better. Belle knew she probably should have prepared herself a bit better, knowing what today would be like, but if she was being honest with herself, which she always was these days, she didn’t want to be prepared for today. She wanted to feel every little bit of pain and heartache that came with today. It was the least she could do.

She heard Irene in the kitchen and, though she felt like throwing things at the mere thought of it, hoisted herself into a sitting position. If Irene were to find her in bed, Belle would end up receiving a pity stare that, today, she simply could not stomach.

Slowly she turned and sat her frail body on the edge of the bed, proud that she had made it that far by herself but still unable to actually get up. She knew she had to do it. Not doing it was just not a possibility. Not today and not while she lived with Irene. Irene would be in soon enough to make sure she was up and about, her cheerful voice and happy smile doing their best to pretend that today was just any other day. Yeah right.

Sitting on the edge of the bed Belle looked around her room noticing, again, just how bare her walls are. Gone were the photo’s of her friends and family, the landscape shots she herself had taken and small canvas paintings. Now her light blue walls stared back at her, looking as empty and unfilled as she felt.

Hearing footsteps approach her room, Belle waited for the knock she knew was coming. Every morning had begun the same with her and Irene for sixteen months now and Belle was pretty confident it wasn’t going to change anytime soon. It was one of the constants in her life. Irene would muck around in the kitchen for a few minutes before banging on Belle’s door to wake her (though Belle was fairly certain Irene knew she was already awake), she would then give Belle no more than ten minutes to get herself out of bed before heading in to give Belle the push she both hated and needed.

And this morning, as usual, Irene did not disappoint. Belle heard the three knocks on her door, followed by a “time to get up girlie”, as she turned slightly to face her bedside dresser.

And there, sitting as if waiting for her, was her lifeline. Another part of her routine, one more constant in her life. She picked up the small bottle and read the label on it, just as she did every morning before opening it. Ms Belle Taylor. Take one capsule daily with water. Reduce alcohol consumption. Fluoxitine 20mg.

Belle opened the bottle of antidepressant, tipped one into her palm and swallowed it down with the water she kept next to her bed knowing that today, more than most others, she was going to need that little pill to keep her sane.

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