Don't Take This Risk: The Other Side Chapter 1: If At First You Don't Succeed, a beauty and the war fanfic

Hello readers! I have returned from my vacation and caught up on some work, so I have been working diligently on fanfiction! This is going to be a shorter (maybe) story based on Don't Take This Risk by Poisonappletales! The story will involve a more elaborate plot based on the endings in the game, chock full of twists and turns. At any rate, I hope you enjoy!

Mirrors were a curse. They did not lie. They did not discriminate.

She despised what she saw. She despised what she had become. A pathetic excuse for a human being, no longer in control of her life.

The one she saw in the mirror was.

Her hair hung in strings about her tear-stained face, nearly concealing it. This is when it was the worst, when she felt emotion. She loved feeling numb. She loved being in something akin to a semi-comatose state. She would down nearly an entire bottle of melatonin a night. She longed to feel like she was floating again. Coming from nowhere, going nowhere on a seabed of stars while the wavering flares of the sunset caressed her face.

But getting to that state became harder. That feeling always called her back to reality. That longing, that... desire.

She considered street drugs, but she didn't like the thought of how they made people deteriorate into an ugly husk. She felt the same about alcohol. Only in moderation. But her mind worked differently. It had to. There were many reasons why she was already aware of this.

She didn't want to feel this anymore. So many times she imagined tearing out her aching heart. And so, driven to the brink of insanity, she was here now, teetering on the edge. Her life balanced on the point of a knife as she took it into her hands. She looked at the blade as it glistened in the low light. Wizard of Oz played on the TV in the background, her mind tuning out the sound. That bastard Tinman. He had no idea how lucky he was to have no heart. She kept it playing to drown out any unfavorable sounds that would possibly pass her lips once she went through with this. Her hands shook, holding the knife out a good distance. She had to do this right. It would be worse if she didn't. She took several quick, shallow breaths, about to make the plunge.

Buzz

CLATTER.

The sudden sound brought her back, making her jump a second time when the knife slipped from her hand. Her heart was racing, all the work she had done to keep herself calm had been wasted. She grabbed her hair, screaming into the room before tearing over to the phone that had vibrated itself onto the floor. She snatched it up, shaking her head when she didn't recognize the number. Her finger shoved the red button on the screen before hurling the device across the room. She sunk to the floor, hugging her knees as she swore under her breath.

Now, now, Maranda. You know that wasn't how this was supposed to go.

This would make the story far too short. And far too boring.

Let's try this again. Let's see how far we can take this.

You have to learn to be more of a risk taker, sweetheart.

Let's back track a bit, shall we?

Her hands shook, holding the knife out a good distance. She had to do this right. It would be worse if she didn't. She took several quick, shallow breaths, about to make the plunge.

Buzz

CLATTER.

That's more like it.

She strode over, picking up the phone from the floor. She didn't recognize the number, shaking her head as she answered. "Hello?"

"Hello? Yes, is this the suicide hotline?"

"... No. The suicide number is an 800 number or something. How the hell did you get my number?"

"Oh... yes, you are right, je regrette. Perhaps this is a sign I should not have called. My apologies, mademoiselle. Do not fret over me. There is no one who cares about me. No one who loves me. I... do not matter."

"Hey. Hey, you didn't answer my question-" Click. "-asshole!" She rolled her eyes, going over to the couch and sinking down on it. "The hell am I supposed to do now?"

You have his number on your callback list.

"And why would I call him back? What's that going to do?"

He didn't answer your question. Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering?

"How some guy got my phone number? More like what he intended to do if we struck up a conversation."

What's your alternative? Going back to square one?

She clenched her jaw. "I'll text him."

I suppose it's a start.

She growled, grabbing her phone to look up the number. She found it, starting a new conversation thread as her thumbs typed away.

'How did you get my number? Who are you?' She rolled her eyes as she waited for a response. "This is stupid."

Patience is a virtue.

"Don't lecture me." She said, repeating the question in a second text before sending it. About a minute later, she finally received a response.

'You sure are persistent. You. You you you. Hahaha, what a funny word. Actually, lol is the correct term for that, is it not? But I'm not lolling on the floor.'

She curled her lip as she read the sudden string of texts. 'Are you high?'

'I have been drinking. And taking pills. They're so stone cold. I would rather have a warm slice of apple pie. I want to be warm.'

She shook her head. 'You're not answering my questions. Who are you and how did you get my number?'

'Does that matter at this point?'

She let her head fall back for a moment. "Who the hell is this bastard?" Her thumbs typed away as she wrote another message. 'Where are you? Are you even from around here?'

'No. I'm from the middle of nowhere. Wait. You aren't finding out where I live so you can send help, are you? That would be smart.'

She clenched her teeth. 'No, dipshit. HOW. DID. YOU. GET. MY. NUMBER.' When she got no response, she groaned with frustration.

I suppose you aren't the only one who plays hard to get.

"Shut... the fuck... UP." She growled.

Looks like you scared him off. He's not as loose as I thought.

"Why are so interested in this? What the hell do you know that I don't?!"

You know there are many things I am aware of that you aren't. I'm not going to give you all the answers, sweetheart. That would be too easy. You haven't learned yet, have you? This is a game that you can't get out of. I chose you and I'm not going away. So, you can either play easy or play hard. There are many endings, but I choose which is the right one. You're not going to die unless I deem it fit.

"So who the fuck is this guy?" She snapped.

That's for you to find out. Oh, looks like you have a message.

She snatched up her phone to read the text, raising a brow as she did.

'Forgive me, I blacked out. What were you saying? I could check, but so much white. Should I change my background before I die? What should my parting message be?'

'Why are you so intent on dying?'

Speak for yourself.

"I bet every penny in my bank account that he doesn't have the same problems I do." She said flatly.

Point taken.

She glanced back at her phone when it buzzed. 'Why not? I am tired of being alone. Waking up to no one. Talking to no one. Seeing no one. I guess I'm talking to you now. But you'll leave me, or die like everyone else I know. Never mind the nightmares.'

She laughed at this. "He is so fucking dramatic. Look at this... blathering on about who the hell knows what... oh, now he's asking if he's making a bad first impression."

He's certainly doing a better job than you had.

She shot a glare. 'You're crying about being alone? I would love to have some peace and quiet for once. Having someone there 24/7 isn't all it's cracked up to be.'

'Cantbreathe'

She blinked. 'The hell do you mean, you can't breathe?'

'Helpme ragetowardthelight cantbreathe helpme'

She shook her head, hovering her thumb on the phone icon. "... Fuck it." She pressed it, the phone ringing. When the call finally connected, she was met with the sound of choking, desperate gasping of air. "Hey. Hey! Dude, stop downing pills and booze for a second and-..." She stopped when she no longer heard sounds coming from the phone. She pulled the phone back to stare at it, furrowing a brow. "Well, shit." She sighed, placing the phone down as she closed her eyes. As she did, a pair of hands with long, slender fingers crept along her shoulders before resting on them.

You don't know how to do things correctly the first time, can you? Or the second time.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

You already know the answer to that. I can't help that you are a skipping record. As in... you skip before you look. This is why you always fail. Now. Time to get back up. We're going to try this again. How far are you willing to go? You've tried ending your life more than you can count. You think if you keep running, I won't get to you quick enough. It's come back around again... the film. It's almost right at the part...

She shut her eyes tightly, biting her lip as she felt the gentle squeeze of the hands on her shoulders. The tickle of long strands of hair against her face. The hands moved down her arms, lifting her from the couch before slipping something in her own. Everything she heard was muffled, like a smeared blur. When she opened her eyes, she felt calm. Her hands shook, holding the knife out a good distance. She had to do this right. It would be worse if she didn't. She took several quick, shallow breaths, about to make the plunge.

Buzz

CLATTER.

Alright, going to end this here. Again, this is a bit shorter for a chapter than what I typically write nowadays, but that may or may not change. I hope you all liked, and please leave a nice comment on what you think! Thank you for reading and please stay tuned for updates!