Silence

Kate was able to hold her emotions in check, until she walked in the front door of her apartment. Then it was as though the dam holding her pain and utter misery broke, and her carefully constructed façade of nonchalance fell. Grabbing a glass, she poured the stiffest drink she could handle. But pouring the stinging liquid down her throat didn’t make the pain go away. She looked around wildly for something else to dull the pain. But her attention was drawn to her policing awards on the shelf. Some were hers; some were her father’s. But all reminded her of just what she had lost, after the "meeting" that fired her only a small while ago. She noticed her name etched on some of them. It was ridiculous, she thought. For she didn’t deserve her name on anything important. She was nobody, nothing. She wondered if anyone would even notice she were gone if she were to leave today. If anyone would miss her at all.

Feeling a sudden rage, she angrily swept her hand out, sending the awards slamming to the floor. The crashing sound seemed to incite her seething rage, and she again smashed more to the floor. The cracking sound seemed to mirror that of her heart shattering. She then began to sob. Damn it, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be! After all she had worked for it couldn’t possibly have ended so quickly. She’d pushed herself through training, shoved herself through the rigors of the academy to make herself the best cop there could be. She’d wanted to be just like daddy, just like her tough hero father. ‘Are you proud now, dad?’ she asked silently. ‘Are you proud of your daughter, now fired from the force with dishonor. The woman whose reputation in the precinct went from prized officer to crazy woman who thinks monsters are real.’

She remembered what that smug Internal Affairs man had said. "I'm just glad your father's not around to see this." He and the other pompous, arrogant bastards couldn’t understand. They hadn’t seen what she had seen; they didn’t know what she knew. ‘Oh God,’ she thought with a sob, as she picked up her father’s photo from her shelf. His opinion had always meant so much to her. As a child, she’d always wanted to follow him everywhere, dress in his uniform, be everything he was. And now, she was lost without his presence in her life. While inside she knew it wasn’t logical, she had always assumed he’d be there forever. Why couldn’t he be there now? To dry her tears, to soothe her pain? And would he really have done that? Instead of pushing her aside like a disgraceful rag, would he have understood her pain, listened to her sorrow? Oh that’s right, she’d never know, because he was dead. Dead, she thought, just like Angel. But Angel still walked this earth, while her father could not. Angel, the man who had allowed her father to die, and who also was now the cause of her being fired. He was the source of all her pain. Silly that it was all centered around one man. It didn’t seem fair, for him to take all that she ever had, without leaving anything for her to hold on to. Without anything to get her through times like these. She’d always believed herself above relying on men, and had always been above allowing them to get the upper hand with her. But Angel had just swept into her life like a blazing inferno, and left only smoking embers in his wake.

A small while later she was still smarting from the anger, from her lost life. She’d changed into her pajamas, the ones that she always felt safe in, that had never failed to wrap her in warmth and reassurance in nights past. But this night she couldn’t find any relief in creature comforts. She furiously wiped at her tears. She’d worked so hard for years, doing everything possible to rise in the ranks of the police station. And what had they awarded her with? A promise of severance and counseling for the poor grief-stricken cop who’d gone off the proverbial deep end. She wished, not for the first time, that she could go back to the time when she didn’t know that Angel was a vampire, didn’t believe that vampires existed, and didn’t know exactly what the L.A. night hid in its shadows. When she was still the tough, hard-as-nails woman who didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her.

Back when her father was still alive, when she still had a chance to mend the chasm that had separated them for so many years. But Kate had never been much of an optimist, nor was she a dreamer. She always kept reality in check, and knew that there was no way to go back and redo the past. But the problem was that she didn’t know how to go on to the future. Was there one for her? She no longer believed in it. The hollow ache that had settled itself in her chest wasn’t going away. All she wanted was for the pain to stop, the guilt over her father’s death to subside, and for the blank emptiness to totally consume her. And there was only one way she could think of to stop the hurting.

Rising to her feet, she strode into her bathroom. Finally, for the first time in months, she had a mission. She gave herself a long, hard look in the mirror. Dark, almost dead eyes bleakly stared out from a pale, alabaster face. The face was expressionless, carefully constructed into a cool, blank slate with no emotion. But there was just a small glimpse of inner pain in those eyes. When was the last time she’d felt anything other than pain or anger? She couldn’t remember, and she decided to stop trying. She thought of Angel, wondered if it was easier for him to live with himself. He had no reflection. Was it easier to live with guilt and pain, when you didn’t have to look at it, staring back at you in the mirror?

Oh, who was she kidding, it didn’t matter anyway. Opening her medicine cabinet, she stared at the small bottles that held the key to ending her anguish. It was almost laughable, she thought, that something so small as a pill could hold so much relief. And she needed as much relief as she could get. Grabbing as many bottles as she could, she walked slowly back into her living room. Grabbing a bottle of vodka, she sank to her knees on the floor. But the strange thing was, now that she knew what she had to do, she wasn’t sad anymore. In fact, a feeling almost of giddy glee was flying through her, making her adrenaline surge. She nearly smiled- she was almost there. She didn’t care if she wasn’t being logical or rational. She’d finally be away from the agony, from the humiliation, and she’d be with her father again. Maybe with this last act she was finally doing something right.

After swallowing as many of the pills she could take, she washed them down with long gulps of vodka. She wondered what would happen now. She’d always heard that before you die, you get all these wonderful flashes of you life. Yet she felt nothing but…emptiness at this moment. She had always feared that she’d die alone and unwanted, no one there to say goodbye to her. She almost wished someone could be there, could share this with her. For she wasn’t upset about this, it was her decision. She would finally be free. She wanted someone to know that.

But then she suddenly realized that she still had unfinished business. And that someone had to know about this. Grabbing at the phone that was on her table, she weakly dialed as her vision began to grow hazy. The sound of his voice on the recorder roused her anger once more. This was all his fault, and she wanted to make sure he understood that. She often wondered if Angel ever thought of her father, as she did every day. She wondered if he felt the crushing weight of guilt his death caused, as she did. But then she reminded herself that he was a heartless bastard who didn’t feel a thing.

Clutching the phone, she leaned back against a chair and words began to tumble from her lips, laced with derisive sarcasm. "You did it, didn't you, you bastard? You made me trust you. You made me believe... No, it wasn't you. It was me, right? Couldn't take the heat," she began, trying to keep conscious long enough to finish this out. Everything was her fault, she suddenly realized. She deserved to be punished. She had foolishly given out her trust to a man who’d never asked for it, she’d allowed her father to die, she had gotten herself fired. Everything was her fault. She gulped, but didn’t cry. She found she didn’t have any more tears left.

She haltingly continued speaking. "That's what they'll say. And you'll feel all bad - or you won't care, but I... Well, I won't care either, will I? I won't feel a thing..." Her voice began to trail off. She continued to repeat, "I won’t feel a thing…" as she slowly lay down onto the floor. The ache in her chest was being replaced by a sense of hope and wonder as her eyes started to close. She was almost there. Not too much longer now. ‘I’m coming, Dad, I’m going to be with you again soon’. The pain was almost gone now. The phone made a dull thud as it dropped to the floor next to a limp, pale hand. And then Kate was falling, falling into a black oblivion. An oblivion that held no sound. Silence at last.