Post by Kizuna on Feb 25, 2006 23:07:59 GMT -5
I just wrote this fic as a spur of the moment in Literature class when we were writing in our journals and I liked it enough to want to post it here. Read and review please.
==================================
Dear Lisa,
I hope you’ve recovered well. Of course, I doubt your mental state will recover as well as your physical one. We all have scars; it's only natural. It’s quite amazing how they have the power to remind us that the past is real. Every time I see my scars, I’m always reminded of my past.
Of course, I do wonder if you think about me when you look at your own scar nowadays. After all, I may have not inflicted much physical damage upon you (aside from throwing you down some stairs and shoving you a few times), but I still know I’ve given you a mental roller coaster back there.
There will be a day when I’ll get out of prison. But you shouldn’t worry too much, Lisa. I’m not one to hold grudges.
Do you dream much, Lisa? I think of you a lot.
From yours truly,
Jackson Rippner
Lisa read the letter over and over again. She hadn’t slept in a long time unless she had the aid of sleeping pills. A bottle of cheap wine lay on the coffee table in front of her couch. She took another drink.
Lisa knew better than to let Jackson Rippner in her head.
It was better to move on; Lisa knew this. She wasn’t good at it though.
One big thing Lisa had done was throwing away and burning every Dr. Phil book she had. Lisa was fed up with all of the self-help and the fluffy optimism. They hadn’t helped her back then; they certainly weren’t going to do her any good now.
She also knew that Jackson never lied. All Lisa had left for now was counting the days until he came back.
She took another long sip of wine and reread the letter.
She was haunted. Lisa could’ve tried getting herself an exorcist, but her problem wasn’t external.
She also knew it wasn’t healthy to be living alone, with the words of a sociopath/assassin/criminal mastermind being her anchor to living.
Lisa Reisert was pretty sure she had gone insane herself.
Only time would tell if that was true or not.
==================================
Dear Lisa,
I hope you’ve recovered well. Of course, I doubt your mental state will recover as well as your physical one. We all have scars; it's only natural. It’s quite amazing how they have the power to remind us that the past is real. Every time I see my scars, I’m always reminded of my past.
Of course, I do wonder if you think about me when you look at your own scar nowadays. After all, I may have not inflicted much physical damage upon you (aside from throwing you down some stairs and shoving you a few times), but I still know I’ve given you a mental roller coaster back there.
There will be a day when I’ll get out of prison. But you shouldn’t worry too much, Lisa. I’m not one to hold grudges.
Do you dream much, Lisa? I think of you a lot.
From yours truly,
Jackson Rippner
Lisa read the letter over and over again. She hadn’t slept in a long time unless she had the aid of sleeping pills. A bottle of cheap wine lay on the coffee table in front of her couch. She took another drink.
Lisa knew better than to let Jackson Rippner in her head.
It was better to move on; Lisa knew this. She wasn’t good at it though.
One big thing Lisa had done was throwing away and burning every Dr. Phil book she had. Lisa was fed up with all of the self-help and the fluffy optimism. They hadn’t helped her back then; they certainly weren’t going to do her any good now.
She also knew that Jackson never lied. All Lisa had left for now was counting the days until he came back.
She took another long sip of wine and reread the letter.
She was haunted. Lisa could’ve tried getting herself an exorcist, but her problem wasn’t external.
She also knew it wasn’t healthy to be living alone, with the words of a sociopath/assassin/criminal mastermind being her anchor to living.
Lisa Reisert was pretty sure she had gone insane herself.
Only time would tell if that was true or not.
Keep going. Cil-bar for you!
