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Title: Selfless
Author: StarGazing101
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell in any way.
Rating: MATURE, for imagery
Summary: You all remember the letter Isabel put on Alex's grave in CYN? Well, this is my version of the letter she wrote the night before she put it on his grave and also is my way of saying why she did the things she did in 3rd season. One-parter.
A/N: I just wrote this on a whim because I'm very tired and had the idea in my head.
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Dear Alexander Charles Whitman,
Well, the nightmares of my ways finally hit, and now look where you are? You’re about to be leveled six feet underground, no longer to breathe in the error of my ways.
This was never meant to happen and it’s taken me forever to realize that you are the one I needed all along. This is just too much. Every moment I live without you by my side or watching you across the room constricts me of any breath I take. I don’t know if I can live without you to help me through my troubles or to have you shun me again, putting me back in my place. There’s nothing I can do, that I haven’t already done, to help make this easier.
I stare at the ceiling of my room, thinking of what else to put down in this letter of apologies, but there’s not much I can say without me blaming myself for this whole incident. The fact that you’re dead because of me makes me want to throw myself off the roof at any given moment, but I’m not courageous enough to do it. To die would be like avenging your death and to live would be a lie, but as I said before I’m not courageous enough to do so. I’m sorry that I cannot be the one to avenge your death.
Everyone thought I was such a bitch that I was naive to everything around and that I didn’t care, but you were the only one to have ever seen. My brother couldn’t even have wholly figured me out like you did and that makes me happy that someone could understand who I was and that I did not like being up on that pedestal that the whole school put me upon. I apologize again though, for being so conceited as to not see how you were feeling. All I did was trample upon your heart like cleats to a fresh dirt field, but the difference? Every step I took made you bleed like a hemophiliac.
Every time I look out my window, I see the stars. Those bright balls of fire hundreds of light years away could be your eyes watching me right now. The sky could be you wearing your favorite navy blue shirt and Orion’s belt could be the buttons below the neckline. My favorite pastime has now become my worst fear, and the reason? The resonance of the stars reminds me of your glistening smile and to have you smiling down upon me in such a cynical way makes me cower. I have no more safety zones. You have taken them all with you, along with my self.
There’s no where else for me to run . . . I have no one to run from but my former self and the life ahead of me. I know that you are going to hate me for this, but I intend to go on with my life. I would rather have had you die angry with me than loving me, for I am rotten inside and out, and don’t tell me differently. I know that you know it’s true no matter how much you deny it.
Isabel stares for a moment at what she wrote and looks to the letter opener on her night stand, an idea suddenly popping into her already muddled mind. Grabbing the letter opener and a small tin from inside her drawer, she cuts her mid-forearm, letting the blood drip into the tiny metal container. Placing a tissue on the wound and making sure it sticks, she takes a small-tipped paint brush from the second drawer of her night stand and begins to paint a rose on the bottom of the note. Done with the petals of blood, she finds a green felt pen and draws the elaborate leaves and stalk of the flower.
Even though I cannot reach you no longer, even though I’m hoping my words will somehow get to you, I love you. I hate myself for not saying those three God-awful words sooner, but there you are. Here is also a rose of my self-esteem and confidence for you to keep forever up there with you in the afterlife. I will no longer need these aspects of myself, for I am nothing. The rose petals are my blood and stand for the involuntary sacrifice of your bloodshed a few days ago. The green stands for envy, because I envy the fact that you no longer have to deal with this alien shit.
To end this letter, I am giving you every piece of me. My dignity, sacrifice, self-confidence, self-esteem, beauty, and anything else I will not need any longer because they all belong to you. From this day forth, until the day I die alone in a forest and let the hunters get me or finally decide my life isn’t worth living, I am yours. No one else will be able to get this satisfaction from me because you now claim the rights to every element of self.
I wish you luck in the afterlife and no more suffering because of my mistakes and stupidity, I will be longing for the day that we can reunite.
Love from an empty shell with no soul,
Isabel Amanda Evans