Steele Holding You in My Heart pt 1
Date: Thursday, October 31, 2002
Roz Bertier <>

ok, this is a little bit on the depressing side, not the best thing for halloween, but hey! I started on this a while ago! But anyways, it's one of my many inner-monolouge stories, this one's from the point of veiw of a character that usually isn't used to his full potential. See if you can figure it out! Permission to archive, and it's going to be 2 parts, the next part tells you who it is!



I sat at the small bar, gently sipping away at the glass at my elbow. The familiar liquid burned it's trail down my throat to my stomach. I reread the newspaper article that I had snipped from the paper, and grinned one of those "you wouldn't be grinning if you were sober" grins. I was happy for her, I truly was.

She was the only thing I had to be happy about. I was a miserable excuse of a man. A miserable old miser, with nothing left to live for. Everything I had stayed behind when I walked on. The bar seemed even more depressing, almost to mirror my mood.

It was one of those dingy downtown dives. A lowly lowlife bar. The kind of place that was filled with the scum of the earth. The kind of place that was filled with people like me. I pushed a lock of hair away from my face, and stared at the two thing in front of me. The newspaper article, and a photo.

A photo of a young girl, she was barely 13 when I took that photo. They're she was, happy as she always was. Lauging, hanging off of a tree branch. Abby always "tsk-tsked" when I let her do something reckless like that. But she had fun. I didn't care about safty, or what could happen, and it seemed that she didn't either.

I knew that I wrecked her life. I still loved her, I really did. I never meant to hurt HER. But I couldn't stand it anymore. I was a free spirit. But that was always my downfall. My free spirit forced me away. And I hurt everyone in my wake.

I got up from the bar, and walked out. I went back to my old rundown apartment. I went into the bedroom, and pulled out the familiar blue metal. It clicked back, louder than it ever had. My hands were shaking, but it had to be done. It would not only give me closure, but would perhaps give her closure as well.

I raised it once, and then dropped my hand out of nerves. I shook my head, to clear my brain, and raised the gun again, with a steadier hand. With my free hand, I quickly scrawled out a note, before my finger tightened on the trigger. The last thing I heard was a sharp, extremely loud bang, and all went black.

End Part 1
To Part 2