hey! this is a new, longer story starring chloe and ange. i hope you enjoy it! the title is a bit of a clue to the storyline, and also inspired by the lyrics of shake it out by florence and the machine. enjoy, grace x
Chloe furiously scratched the barbed tip of her pen up and down her arm. Somehow the repetitive motions seemed soothing, something moving in clear straight lines that she could understand, when nothing else in her head seemed to. As she tapped each letter on the computer, the keys felt eerily cold under her fingertips, reminded her of something... she let her mind drift back to that fateful day. Evan. the scars at the forefront of her head seared. She jolted in her seat as she felt blood trickle down her wrist. She could feel the knife blade icing through her fingers. She felt so out of control, and oh how she hated it. Of course, there was no blood, her head was just so scarred it could conjure up such terror and horror at the click of a button. The feeling that she couldn't understand the things that spiralled around her own mind was scarier than any medical emergency, than any crisis she'd ever been trained for. Even her calm, sensible persona couldn't soothe her when it came to the matter of her own mind. And all of a sudden, the pen clattered to the floor. Her grip had loosened without her noticing as her arms limply flopped to her sides. She couldn't hold herself up when it took all her strength not to scream. "god... why now, not not chloe" her internal monologue wailed like a baby. She felt like a baby. Useless and pathetic. she didn't really know why she was panicking. it had all just got too much all of a sudden. The lights felt like divine angels bearing down on her eyes, the screech of a trolley; sirens wailing. The notches of her skinny spine grinded down the worktop of the nurses station as she collapsed. She had lost... she had lost to the panic that she couldn't even make sense of. She shivered, shook violently. She could barely withhold human instinct as she gasped for breath. The thoughts had spiralled round her head but now it was just a chariot of fire burning... burning... burning...
"CHLOE! CHLOE! ... chloe! chloe!"
Nicky's screams trailed off into a picture of perfect darkness as Chloe let her eyelids judder closed. This time, she was willing to let her self lose to the terror, she was too weak, life had become exhausting, each step felt like a marathon.
She parted her dry lips. Her mouth was parched and her eyes felt glued shut. As she screwed up her face and yawned, she forced herself to look at the chaos she knew she'd be lying in. But no. A fuzzy outline loomed over her. She blinked. She blinked again. "Mum?" Chloe stuttered. Ange's face was ghostly and tear stained, the remains of her desperate pain lingering. "Oh darling, oh darling, my baby girl" Chloe coughed as she began to cry, pushing herself up into her mother's arms. "Hey, hey, you're okay, you'll be okay Chloe" Chloe couldn't force any words from her throat. The tears began to fall, pouring down her cheeks like a waterfall of relief and release. "Fire and water, my baby... let the fire burn and the tears will extinguish it." Ange sighed. How had she ended up like this, cradling her pale, skeletal daughter in her arms. Perhaps life was the fire, and she was Chloe's water, her relief and her hope. Fire and Water... it made sense.