Work Text:
Phantom….
A ghost….
An inexistent being, far from reality…
Yet when the mind plays tricks…
When the imagination – and yes –
Probably even longing, strikes at you…
In your mind, the ghost becomes real…
And haunts you, in any place, any time–
Leaving you helpless
And vulnerable…
-o0o-
Cheryl has never had a good night’s sleep after that fateful day. She feels all consumed - her heart constricts at every beat, reminding her that she’s still here – existing, but never living. How can she continue on? Everything she’s believed in, everything she’s put her faith and trust in, all came crumbling down, the moment she learned that her brother was dead.
Her beautiful, loving twin – Jason. He is all she’s ever had. Truly had. He’s the one who breathed words of comfort to her, when she was being castigated by her mother for not being limber when she accidentally broke the antique vase when they were seven. He’s the one who came to her rescue, the moment her father tore up her poetry entry for the Blue and Gold back in their sixth grade. “You are born a Blossom - YOU OWN THE PAPER!”, bellowed their father, not even bothering to glance at her work where she’s poured her heart out – telling her parents of her love for them, despite everything.
And now, where is Jason? Cheryl sees him in everything and in nothing. She catches a glimpse of him at the dining table, when she heads down there to have breakfast, waiting for her still, and reserving the best bacon for her. She sees him running down the football field, all sweaty, eyebrows crunched together, barking orders to his team, and then racing down the field, arms outstretched, ready to catch the ball. She sees him outside of the girl’s locker room, patiently waiting for her after a long shower when she’s done the Vixen practice. Cheryl sees him still – in the dark hallways leading to the Chemistry lab – holding hands with the Cooper girl, with eyes soft and apologetic turned towards her, a sad small smile playing in his lips. And still she sees him, through the dim cracks of her walk-in closet, tiptoeing towards her, slipping in, putting his arms around her, while she cries and cries and cries – as she knows he’s done. He’s done with the business, the lies, the pressure of it all – he’s done with them – but never with her. He whispers, “Never with you Cher. Never with you.”
She thinks to herself, “You’ve never been too good at lying to me, Jason.”
-o0o-
Mirage…
An illusion…
A far-fetched dream which is near impossible…
But when the heart beckons…
When the emotions – the feelings–
Overwhelms your entire being…
In your heart, you create the illusion…
You fantasize the moment, in any place, any time–
Until you are left helpless
And vulnerable…
-o0o-
Cheryl eyes are tired and dried up. Try as she might, she cannot bring herself to forget those images burned in her mind’s eye for all eternity. She thought her brother’s washed up corpse down by the Sweetwater River would have been the worst. Seeing her father hanging from the ceiling had been a close second, true. But seeing that horrific video of her father - THEIR father, actually handling a gun, pointed it straight on her twin’s forehead, and pulled the trigger, so coldheartedly – it was unimaginable.
“The truth will set you free”. So they say. Cheryl calls bullshit.
How can the truth be liberating? Setting the fact that the Blossoms are a family run by evil, with souls wagered to the devil himself to keep the family fortune, with the confirmation that the whole family has no morals, a murdering and incestuous bunch of crazy bastards - no, there’s nothing liberating in that. Nothing remotely consoling. Nothing. Nothing to feel at all.
Cheryl sinks deeper and deeper onto her mattress, arms splayed beside her, eyes cast upwards on the beautiful chandelier hanging by the ceiling. The slight sunlight permeates through her room escaping through the slips of her heavy curtain, and catches the crystal above her, colors playing like a kaleidoscope.
She twists her body to the right, to where she’s laid down the gossamer white dress on the ottoman. And she closes her eyes, and reaches out her open hand.
And she feels him. Jason – holding her hand, pulling her towards him. He stretches one hand down her waist, the other entangling her hair, his face burying down the left side of her face. His breath catches her ear, and she shivers at the familiar feeling. Of the safety his arms bring. She can smell his perfume engulfing her, as she presses her face into her chest, hugging him, holding him and not wanting to let go ever. She knows it’s not possible, but at this point, she doesn’t care. He’s here. She’s with him.
She never noticed when she had stood up and gathered that dress in her arms, imagining Jason in the room with her. But she doesn’t care. She’s numb. And she’s tired. And he’s THERE. She just needs to be with him.
-o0o-
You are the Phantom – haunting my mind,
Every second you cross my midst
Reminding me you’re not there – inexistent still –
But oh so real…
-o0o-
The whole woods are covered in white, freshly fallen snow. And nothing would have been as perfect, except this view. She stands at the edge of the river. And she sees him – her Jason. Standing in the middle. Beckoning her forward. Cheryl takes slow sure steps. Yes, she’s coming for him now.
-o0o-
While I am the Mirage – the illusion of my heart,
Anywhere, I create in my soul
A fleeting vision that you are here – though inexistent-
So real… So very real…
-o0o-
She races toward where he is. And was just standing there. Then he was gone. And she sees his face beneath her knees – under the frozen lake. But never far from her grasp. Because they will never be apart. Not anymore.
She can hear them – their voices frantic. Calling her to them. Calling her away from her brother. But Jason’s waiting. She closes her eyes, and slowly turns to face those voices.
-o0o-
“And so in love – with each other…”
-o0o-
*CRACK*
And Cheryl opens her eyes – and they’ve never been any clearer than before since the past couple of weeks. She sees her twin, and at the same time, they reach out for each other.
And she knows – she’s done.