Title: Eight of Swords
Author: Sara
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: *closes eyes and repeats "They are mine, they are mine, they are mine* *opens one eye* Damn. They still belong to paramount
Note: Eight of Swords in the Tarot Deck is a girl blindfolded on a beach and her arms tied behind her back surrounded by eight swords stuck in the sand. It means being trapped, bad news, violence, chagrin, crisis, censure, conflict and sickness. Reversed it means difficulty, opposition, accident, treachery, what is unforseen, and fatality. Oh yeah. And KJ’s pov.
Time Frame: Summer repeats, before season 5 and Night. (meaning, we didn’t see this).
Note #2: uhm. This is pretty much based on my own experiences (yeah, during 3^rd quarter I drew this card a LOT, along with the 9 and 10 of swords, stories coming soon) – but they’re over now, so don’t worry.

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I sat on my bed listening aimlessly to some music that Tom had on file, and staring blankly at the wall in front of me, ignoring the fact that I couldn’t see the wall, because I had the lights off. Yeah, the purple lava lamp allowed for some light, but it created more shadows than light. More shadows than light.

Yes, that seemed about right. My life had turned into that lately, and I can’t quite figure out why. I guess I sort of drifted into it when we hit this bloody spot of empty space. Gods, I wish we’d get out soon. All I see is black, black as night, every single day. And it’s beginning to drive me insane.

I just wish it would end. The hopelessness, the emptiness, the lonliness. All of it. Get out of my life. Or should my life get out of it? I don’t know.

Chakotay. He knows most of this, but nowhere near how desperate I am to get out. I may never tell him. He would stop me.

B’Elanna. She knows parts, but not all. I feel bad about keeping things from her, but I don’t want to make her worry any more than she has to. And she only knows what she knows because Chakotay is talking to her, I don’t think he can take this by himself.

Tuvok, poor guy. He seems to be the last person to know about everything that’s going on with me. I feel bad for him, but why worry more people than necessary?

Why can’t this end, right here, right now? It would be so easy. I have something around here somewhere that could do the deed, but I don’t have the energy to get out of bed and find it. I’m irritable, I know. I’m disagreeable, moody, depressed, and I can’t control it. It’s not in my family, so I have no idea where this came from. It just appeared out of the blackness, I suppose.

I can’t turn the light off, it gets worse in the dark. I can’t sleep – and in the dark my imagination wanders a bit more wild than it normally does. I don’t want to think. I’ve stopped thinking about what I’m doing alltogether. I’m just going through the motions. I just don’t want to think tonite. Or ever again. It’s so annoying, because you can think of anything.

And once you get the thought, it just won’t go away. Even when you get better, it’s still there. I found that out when Daddy and Justin died. I recovered from that (although I may never be able to look at a picture of either of them without crying again), but what I thought during it still is here. And now that I’m there again, it’s louder, stronger, and I’m afraid I might go with it.

But what nobody can ever know, is that I’m afraid that I will go with it. I don’t want to go through with it, but I’m afraid that things might get so far that I will go with it. I’m a fighter, and always have been, yet the fight isn’t as strong with feelings – never has been – and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out with this monster.

Part Two: Nine of Swords

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