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Post by lipstick on Aug 5, 2012 14:31:18 GMT -5
 i can't give it up to someone else's touch
--- "I'll be fine," her voice was quiet as she spoke, looking straight into the eyes of her beloved husband who was next to her, sitting in a chair and leaning his torso over so he was closer to her and the bed. His hair was a mess and he definitely needed to shave. Over the three or so years the two had been married, she had never seen his so disheveled - not even in the mornings. He always seemed to look presentable and it was unnerving her seeing him as much of a wreck as she was. Schuyler, on the other hand, probably looked like someone sucked all the light that used to glow brightly inside of her; as if the blinding light bulb within her thin frame suddenly burned out. She was in her hospital gown, sitting in the private suite. Her blond, loose curls were a messy halo around her head and gently, reluctantly, her husband stood over her, grabbing an elastic band he magically seemed to have, and he ran his fingers through her hair, taming it a bit and making her look more presentable by putting the thick locks into a high ponytail. She felt childish, having him brushing her hair and taking care of her, but she didn't push him away; didn't want to. It was obvious he didn't believe her, that she was fine, and she didn't believe herself. Still, she stubbornly stuck by her feeble little statement no matter how much of a lie it was. She simply wanted him to be okay. Like always, Schuyler's thoughts would run over to everyone around her when she should be thinking about herself.
--- With a sigh, seeing as there was no way out of this, he planted a long, kind kiss on her forehead, moving a few loose strands behind her ears, "I won't take long..." he started but she put a finger over his lips to stop him before he continued, "Go home, clean yourself up, get some sleep, and you can come back tomorrow during actual visiting hours. I shouldn't be staying here any longer after that. It's already been a week," and that it had. The doctor claimed he wanted to keep her mostly for emotional reasons - fearing a breakdown - but with it never happening, they had little reason to keep Schuyler holed up in some fancy hospital room that could be used for others. After a few moments of hesitation, he made his way to the open doorway and she watched his tall, 6'4" frame heading down the hallway toward the elevators which she could see fairly clearly from her vantage point.
--- Schuyler lay back in her bed, placing her hands, with all the needles for the IV as well as other things to check her vitals, over her face, covering it completely. She took a few deep breathes to steady herself but it was a bit hopeless. She could still feel the knot in her throat, could still feel her own frustration and disappointment in being unable to carry her own child inside of her. There was something wrong with her, there always had been, hadn't there? When her mother used to take her to church, they used to preach about how homosexuality was wrong, that the Lord damned all of them to hell when they died. Maybe that had been a sign that she wasn't right in the head...but had she really been a lesbian? No. She had only ever loved one woman - never saw anyone else in such a way until her husband came along. But even then...she couldn't even keep the people she loved alive...they all just died.
--- Running her fingers over her face clear of makeup with red circles around her eyes that were a bit puffy from all the crying she'd been doing lately, she rested her hands on her stomach where the baby had been only a week ago; healthy and beautiful, six months along. Her stomach was already noticeably smaller, already going back to how it used to be when it was flat and almost concave. She looked up at the ceiling, concentrating on counting the pinpricks in the tiles but would always lose her place around five hundred. The clicking of heels were what brought her out of her distraction and self-made isolation. Looking toward the door with her foggy blue orbs, the familiar flash of golden rod yellow hair, the full hips swaying, the aristocratic facial features all filled her vision as the figure stood in the doorway, moving more into the room to be at the foot of the bed looking at her. The door had been closed behind her by a doctor who looked at Schuyler warily before leaving them to their own devices.
--- Emily was in scrubs. Emily..."Who are you and what do you want?" her voice came out hoarse instead of the harsh venom she wanted to portray. She was probably hallucinating - the morphine drip probably having something to do with that, "I asked for no visitors other than my husband," she muttered, wrapping her arms around her torso as if to somehow make herself smaller. She didn't need to be checked on. A nurse had been in here earlier and had already done just that. She had watched them lower Emily into the ground - this woman wasn't her. She probably just looked like her - but it had been two years since the funeral. Her memory could just be faulty.
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Post by pom on Aug 7, 2012 0:28:50 GMT -5
 where have you been all my life?
Mackenzie hid in plain sight from the woman she held so high and dear to her heart after staging the death of on Emily Ann Dow. The marvelous thing about letting go of a lover, it forces you to focus on yourself as an “I” and not as a “we” unit. Mackenzie had talents and interests that Emily never had outside of Schuyler. In fact, Emily only did things that she knew her beloved Schuyler would want to do or she did. On her own, Mackenzie had to focus and channel her attentions to something different. She was interested in other people, still being very much in love with Schuyler, she chose to go into nursing – but that was after taking multiple career aptitude tests and cross-referencing results. Mackenzie went to Boston Medical School after very high scores in the SATs. With a little money from her father who knew the entire situation and the money at risk and the reputation. Her brother understood and appreciated the spotlight it gave him to succeed. They got used to the family dinners with their “Mack,” now. It was a different kind of normal and the drive it took to never see Schuyler was overwhelming, but it would soon come to an end. As there is only so much hiding a woman can do when people are slowly discovering your death was staged and you paid out the nose for name changing, a new birth certificate, and social security card. Emily wasn’t dead, she was alive and well with a new well-earned - after hours of hard work and studying - bachelor’s degree of nursing and formal certificates that went with the title of registered nurse.
She avoided it for so long, but she knew, looking at the diagram and list of patients, what had happened and who was doing what – that she could only keep the peace that Schuyler’s mother forced her to make. Her clear blue eyes, marred with a little sadness and anxiety, watched Schuyler’s distinguished husband walk out of her room. They were a wreck, but there was only so much help the neonatal division could provide. The fact of the matter was they couldn’t revive a stillborn, it was long gone, but they tried everything in their power, as usual routine, to ease the burden for the mother. However, eventually Schuyler would have to be removed from the room even if she had money. She had the biggest and private emergency room the hospital had to offer, but with her husband paying them off to keep her there as long as she needed, Mackenzie knew she had to convince her former lover to leave and go home. She regretted doing it, it would sound so insensitive coming from her, but she wanted Schuyler to be happy. It hurt Mack to know Shuyler lost her baby, but she didn’t know anything beyond that. They could try again, she and her husband, because the first time wasn’t a happy ending maybe the next would be if. If not Mackenzie could help them through alternatives. They had women addicted to being pregnant that were perfect surrogates.
Sighing, she put the clipboard down and made her way to the door and knocked before opening the door. There was her beloved, the pain rushed to her heart. She wanted to run straight from this room and go back to hiding. She hated Schuyler’s mother for doing this to them. Emily loved her; she was so devoted to her Sky. She gave everything and it was ripped away from them and her beloved walked to meet the arms of her husband. Now, rumors and pictures told her it was true. They were very much in love. It was betrayal, but it wasn’t. Emily handed off her childhood lover the same day Schuyler’s father gave his daughter away. Emily did the same, but months later after being forced to do so. She would have never let the other woman go, but she had and now she was furious for doing so. She was so depressed and disheveled, it pained Mackenzie. Pregnancy was a terrible thing when they lost the babies or there was something wrong. Why did it have to happen to Schuyler? And why was she going to try to force the woman out? She did this many times before, but now it was personal and she almost knew it would be too hard to do.
She cleared her throat and approached Schuyler. Her eyes took in the sight of her former beloved, the nostalgia of seeing her warming her soul like an electric blanket. The sharp words and instant walls up were a little alarming, but Mackenzie stayed strong. She didn’t know how to start or where to start, but she knew that just starting with an introduction, although slightly formal, was where it needed to be. She cleared her throat nervously. “While we, as a hospital, do try to respect the wishes of our clients – I, on a personal level, have gone against your wishes and I dearly apologize for that. It’s been too long and I cannot just hide anymore. My name is Mackenzie Evangelina Applegate – I was formerly Emily Ann Dow. I faked my own death and buried an empty coffin in my place. I lied to you, Schuyler Cordelia Harvard Worthington, one ridiculously long name might I add, on the demands of your mother. I am also here to politely tell you, while we understand you are mourning and very much depressed, the hospital needs this room for the emergency wing. We will prescribe Prozac and send you on your way.” She giggled at how formal she was, but it was necessary. This was just the beginning of the battle trying to convince someone you’re alive and not deceased. It would be hard for Mackenzie to convince Schuyler that she was really Emily and even harder for Schuyler to accept it, but she had to reconnect with her once-lover.
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Post by lipstick on Aug 7, 2012 1:08:58 GMT -5
i can't give it up to someone else's touch
--- The woman spoke and instantly, Schuyler wished she had some kind of weapon she could use to swing at her head so it would roll clear off her shoulders. She giggled. Giggled. This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be. She locked her jaw and tore the blankets off from around her thin frame, taking off needles and tubes that were still attached to her not caring if it was actually dangerous to do so. She climbed out of the bed, less gracefully than she intended because of the discomfort she still felt in her hips and lower regions. Tearing off the hospital gown, she didn't care that she was standing there in nothing but a pair of expensive, lacy pale pink underwear. She reached the gym bag her husband had brought her and grabbed one of his t shirts he knew she loved to walk around in and a pair of shorts. Slipping on the shorts had been difficult though and she paused numerous times to not hurry the process along so much. It was a dull ache but an ache nonetheless. Putting on a pair of slippers, she turned and looked over at the woman with a seemingly new found confidence, "Well, Ms. Applegate," she didn't believe her. She wasn't Emily and the name, Mackenzie Applegate, was just a coincidence, "I do not take Prozac or any kind of anti depressant medication. I will call my husband and when he gets here the room will be free," it came out harsher than intended and she slowly took a seat in one of the chairs, obviously refusing to get back into the bed. It wasn't like Schuyler to be so childish, at least not since she'd gotten married, but she was so unbearably tired and exhausted both in a physical, mental, and emotional way.
--- How many times had she had to be hospitalized over the past two years over miscarriages? Too many in her opinion. Though the babies had only been fetuses, never making it past three months, it had still been a big deal. This one had been six months along - no longer a fetus but an actual baby...a still born...it wasn't like Schuyler to accept failure and she was having trouble coping with it. She wanted to smack the woman for giggling...fucking giggling...because if she was trying to lighten the mood, it wasn't working. Reaching into the gym bag, she rummaged around until she found her cellphone and easily punched in the number two for his number on speed dial. He had only been gone ten or so minutes. It wouldn't take him long to reverse and come back.
--- Emily would have never faked her death. She was capable of many things but something like that? And her mother! How dare she blame it all on her mother! All she ever wanted was the best for her, to have a long and normal life - one of course filled with the affluent and fabulously wealthy. But before she could press down the button to call him, she looked over at the woman claiming to be Emily Dow - turned - Mackenzie Applegate, "And I do not appreciate you speaking about my mother that way. You do not know Mrs. Harvard and you do not know Emily Dow so I recommend you keep your lies and comments to yourself. I also do not appreciate how you have so clearly offended me, a patient, and if you do not leave me in peace right now, I will tell your supervisor about the blatantly rude behavior you have just exhibited," she sounded like her mother, speaking that way, and she tended to, even in the past, whenever she would get upset or angry and didn't know how to deal with it. Schuyler had always been a very happy and caring person. Hiding her emotions was difficult for her but if one knew her well enough, one could pick up on her patterns and habits and see she really was transparent. When she hurt, she hurt. When she was ecstatic, she was ecstatic. At the moment, she was angry, hurt, and completely offended by the words that had been spoken to her. She'd never been kicked out of the hospital; especially when her husband was the district attorney and both her own and his family, which donated money to this hospital every year, could easily put them out of business if they wanted to, "And there is no Harvard," she tossed in there, as if that had somehow proven to her she wasn't Emily, "Only Worthington. Schuyler Cordelia Worthington..." she looked down at her cellphone with the picture of her and her husband happy and smiling as she kissed his cheek, "Emily would have known that," she spoke the last comment unbearably quiet, as if it were a whisper or hidden secret. Her name still upset her and it was obvious, but she didn't want to admit it.
--- Was it possible to love two people at the same time so strongly and passionately? They say you never end up with your first love - only the lucky ones do. It is why they are a first love - they are sweet and wonderful, magnificent and igniting like fireworks but they fizz out into nothing more than a kind memory once the colors are gone.
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Post by pom on Aug 7, 2012 13:52:10 GMT -5
where have you been all my life?
Perhaps the giggle was what put Schuyler over the edge, but Mackenzie was there solely to do what she did, but it was a nervous giggle. It was something that had become a habitual mannerism after her life changed so drastically when she faked her death. It was never something Emily would have done, but it was something Mackenzie had to do to protect her family and her best friend. She would take two steps back and explain, but first watch her former best friend, lover, her everything really act like a complete child at being kicked out. It took guts to kick celebrities out, didn’t it? No one wanted to do it, but there were people who could die waiting for treatment when she was holding up a room that could fit two people. How could they do it politely? Schuyler was refusing to move from this room and not even to the mental health ward which is where she should be. A death is traumatizing, mourning is long, and if Mackenzie knew that this wasn’t the first failed attempt at a baby, she might have been more sensitive. The fact was that she could easily go be like this at her own home. That’s where Mackenzie was for the days after realizing she had no choice but to kill herself for Schuyler, so to speak.
“Your name was always long, remember? I told you that and he just made it worse. Don’t you remember the first day I said the complete thing? Schuyler Cordelia Harvard Worthington? You corrected me then, too. It’s so pompous and long, as if you needed it longer. How dare you forget about me, Sky! You shoved me away and you denied me your love! I offered the affair because I loved you! You told me no because of him!” The uncharacteristic snap at her former lover was unlike Mackenzie, but she couldn’t help it. Just hearing Schuyler talk to her like that reminded her of the very conversation that defined the moment Emily realized she had lost Schuyler and there was no way they would ever be the same. How dare Schuyler put on that front and pretend she was her mother when she wasn’t. Schuyler never knew how to deal with her own problems as herself and instead she just wore a mask and spoke like her mother as if just pretending to be the terrible , heartless, strict, and manipulative Katherine Harvard was her escape goat. She hated it and she didn’t want to hear it. “How dare you tell me I have no idea what your mother is like. You don’t even know what she held over me when she forced me to fake my death for the sake of you and your marriage! My father’s infidelities were on the line and you knew how sick my mother was! Losing to breast cancer, knowing my father slept with other women would have killed hr faster! You know I loved my mother more than anything, she was my rock!”
Fighting sobs, she choked back and she held it. “And then she said she would talk to the Red Sox’s scouts about my brother… You know how hard he worked to make it to the major leagues. He knew what he wanted to do with his life, it was his dream. I didn’t have a dream! I didn’t have anything because I was so in love with you, my first love! Don’t you understand why I chose this name, so you would know it was me… Don’t you remember our conversation… That if we could change our names… What did I say would be mine?” The answer was simple, Mackenzie Applegate. Mackenzie for their beloved favorite maid that took care of them both and always gave them the chance to be together – she was a little old. She understood the importance of having your best friend with you and she knew they were in love. Applegate for their favorite ice cream parlor where they would always try one scoop of something different and one scoop of their favorite – they didn’t want to get fat, after all. “I told you Mackenzie Applegate, remember?”
She sighed and sat down next to Schuyler, pausing and doing the habitual biting her lip – something even Emily did when she couldn’t think of the words to say or how to start. She combed a hand through her currently down hair and sighed. “It was one of our times we were experimenting…. I just finished you off…. You went down on me and your mother, I opened my eyes and she was there watching in the door. I went to say something to stop you, but she pressed a finger to her lips and walked off. Maybe she was protecting you, but I was still so scared. So I told you I wasn’t feeling it…” A shaky sigh and a glance up to the ceiling, it felt so good to let her know after all the time, but it was painful to relive it. “I ran home, your mother laughed at me as I ran out after we fought. After a month, I thought she was going to let I go, but she didn’t… Remember? It was only a month after that huge fight when she announced your engagement. And you came to me… So scared about it, but you felt so much pride knowing you had to do it. You wanted the best wedding ever…. I loved you so much, but it hurt being your maid of honor.” She had to stop herself from losing it all, she let silence fall and she looked away. “We became best friends when we were five after I told you I was jealous of your dress because I wanted the same one but your Mom bought the last one…” She turned and offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for lying and hurting you, Sky, but I didn’t have any choice…. None…”
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