“Done Wrong”
By Yona
Rated R for language and violent situations.

Disclaimer: Death and Despair are creations of Neil Gaiman. Camel Filter cigarettes are owned by the RJ Reynolds corporation, “Done Wrong” is by Ani DiFranco, represented by Righteous Babe Records, and the Chemical Brothers are represented by Virgin Music. The author is using all aforementioned ideas/songs/products/people without permission, and is hoping that she doesn’t get sued, because it’s the last thing she needs after getting robbed and having a horrid weekend in Amsterdam.

Thanks to Raven for betaing this, apologies if it formats wrong, I tried to fix it so it would come out properly when sent to OTL, dunno if it'll work, tried to test it, but my other mail accounts are being bastardly. . .

Archiving: Ask before you do.

Feedback: Always appreciated.

***************************

The wind is ruthless
The trees shake angry fingers at the sky
The people hunch their shoulders
Pull their collars over their ears and run by
It’s a cold rain
It’s a hard rain
Like the kind you find in songs
I guess that makes me the jerk with the heartache
Here to tell you how I been done wrong. . .

She stood before the door, hands jammed in her pockets, letting the rain soak through her coat. She was freezing, and the wind was blowing hard enough to knock children off their feet. Her right hand gripped the keys in her pocket so tightly that she was sure she was cutting herself, but couldn’t feel it for the numbness and cold. Her clothes and other belongings sat in a trash bag at her feet, under the overhang of the door. She pulled her hand out of her pocket, keys jingling and clacking, and slid one in to the lock.
*******************
“With Liana? LIANA! You motherfucker!”
 “Look, it’s not like you’ve been helping me out in that department lately, so what the fuck was I supposed to do?”
 Kelly whirled around to face her adversary angrily; fists clenched and sparks in her eyes.
 “Lately? It’s been a week since we’ve had sex. A goddamn week! I’m on the rag, what the fuck do you expect?”
Jason approached her and reached out to put his hands on her arms.
“Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard.”
His hands continued until they gripped her arms.
“I said don’t fucking touch me!”
His fingers tightened.
“How long before that, Kelly? How fucking long? Three weeks? Four? Have you been having your period for that fucking long?”
“Let go of me!” Kelly backed up, twisting herself, trying to get away His grip was hurting her.
“Listen to me, bitch!”
Kelly raised her leg and stomped down on his foot. Jason cried out and let go.
“Fuck you. You might have said something, asshole.” She ran into the bedroom, leaving the door open. “Or you might have been a little more discreet about it.” She tore open a drawer and began to throw clothes onto the bed, pulling a fresh trash can liner from a box. “But my old roommate . . .my friend. How fucking could you?” She pushed the clothes into the trash bag and started to move toward the bathroom door. Jason caught her shoulder.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“Back to my place. I do still live there occasionally. And what difference should it make to you? It’s not like you need me anymore.”

Jason raised his arm and struck her with the back of his hand, knocking her glasses onto the coffee table. Her feet faltered, but his hand on her shoulder kept her up with bruising force. She looked up at him, her eyes signaling an emotion he had never seen her direct toward him: fear. A fear that quickly turned back to anger, as she used her free hand to punch him in the stomach. He let go again as he doubled over, and she ran into the bathroom, sweeping her toiletries into the trash bag. She returned to the living room and, picking up her coat and glasses, opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.
**************************
I am sitting, watching
Out the window of the coffee shop
I am waiting, waiting
Waiting for it to let up. . .

She sat at the kitchen table with a bag of ice covering where her face had begun to purple and swell. She stared dully out the window of her third story apartment, watching the people hurry through the rain. The teapot had vaguely begun to steam, though the water was not quite hot enough to add the tea leaves. The ice hurt her face, and she was shaking, but she was not crying. She would not give him the satisfaction of crying. The phone rang, and she got up slowly to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?” She could hear her voice tremble.
“Kelly, look. . .I’m so -"
She hung up the phone.
*******************************
I am rocking like a cradle
Warming my hands with the cup in between
I am leaning over the table
Holding my face over the steam. . .

“Hey, you’ve reached my answering machine. Try me on my mobile, or ring up Jason if it’s important, because I’m probably there. Peace.”
“Kelly, please pick up the phone. Please. I’m sorry I hit you, look, can we just talk about this? I do need you, love, and all I want to -“

The machine beeped as it cut Jason off.
Kelly took a sip from her mug.

“Hey, you’ve reached my answering machine. Try me on my mobile, or ring up Jason if it’s important, because I’m probably there. Peace.”
“It’s me again, I got cut off. All I want is to make it up to you somehow, come on!" He sighed. "You know my number.”

The machine clicked as he hung up.

Kelly blinked back a tear. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a woman, grotesque and with a hook in the side of her mouth, in the hand-held mirror on the coffee table.
***********************************
And before it gets so cold
That the rain turns to snow
There’s just a couple things
I’d like to know. .

Kelly blinked and pushed the mirror farther down the table. She picked up her pack of Camel Filters and, shaking, pulled one out and lit one. She exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples with her free hand, gently on the bruised side. She was about to pick up her mug again, when a knock came to the door.

She ignored it.

“Kelly, I know you’re there.” Jo. Of course Jo. She was meant to see the Chemical Brothers with Jo that night.
“Kelly, open the fuck up!” Kelly got up dazedly, halfheartedly calling out that she was coming. She opened the door. Jo’s jaw dropped.
“Oh god. . .sweetie. . .what happened to your face?” Kelly glanced into the hall mirror, trying to discern if it was really bad enough to be that noticeable. It sure hurt like it was. Once again, and clear as a bell this time, she gazed upon a monstrous looking woman, a vague grin playing on her lips. There was blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, and she had dark, ratty hair. Skin paler than snow, almost ash coloured, and sad eyes met Kelly’s gaze. She was calling Kelly’s name. . .calling her. . .
“Kelly? Kelly, what the fuck?”
She gasped and turned back to Jo. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at the mirror for ages. Can’t I even come in the door?”
“Yeah, yeah. . sorry.” Kelly moved aside and gestured toward the couch.
“Kel, are you okay?” Jo sat down. “What happened to your face?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing. I had an argument with Jason, is all.”
“Did he do that to you?” Jo’s eyes glazed with anger. “Because if he did. . .”
“Look, I said it was nothing, all right? Let it go.”
“Kel, seriously. . .”
“It’s nothing! And I haven’t got the money to go tonight, okay? I’m sorry. I really just need to be alone right now.”

Jo stood, puzzled. “Oh-kay. . .but.. .I mean, you know my number. Call me, okay?”
“Fine. Please just go?”
Jo went. Kelly locked the door behind her, and returned to the couch, where the cigarette in the ashtray had burned out. She picked up her mug and stared into it. “What the fuck. What the fuck? What the hell is going on? Who are you, you stupid mirror fucking. . .I’m talking to a mirror. . oh god. . .” She picked up the hand mirror, but there was nothing but her own reflection staring back. She set the mirror down and started sobbing. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” She repeated this over and over again, as if someone would bring her the answer. She was shaking so hard she had to set down the mug. Just as she did, there came another knock.
************************
Like how could you do nothing
Then say I’m doing my best
How could you take almost everything
Then come back for the rest . .

She tried ignoring it again, but Jason’s voice resonated through the wood.

“Kelly, open up, please? I just want to talk.”
“Piss off, asshole.”
“Listen, I’m serious. I came all the way -“
“All six blocks.”
“- down here to apologize. Would you please just let me in?”
“No.” Her voice choked on the word.
“I’m on my knees out here, Kelly. I would do anything to make this up to you. I’m begging you, please!”

Kelly stood up and went to the door, unlocking the top but leaving the chain. “I said, piss off,” she repeated as she opened the door as far as the chain would allow. As soon as she did, his face rose to level with hers, and he reached his hand inside the door. She jerked back.

”You say you’ll do anything to make it up to me? Fine. Go. The fuck. Away.”
“Kel, please -“

Kelly pushed the door shut, narrowly missing Jason’s fingers as it closed.

“Fuck you too, then! If that’s how you’re going to be, fine. Maybe I’ll just go hang out with Liana for a while.” His voice trailed off. “Bitch. . .”

Kelly slumped against the door, crying and pulling at her hair.
*****************************
It all just slips
Away so slowly
You don’t even notice until you’ve lost a lot
I’ve been like one of those zombies
In Vegas
Pouring quarters into the slot
And now I’m tired
And I am broke
And I feel stupid and I feel used
And I’m at the end of my little rope
Swinging back and forth about you. . .

Two hours later, she sat clasping the cup of cold tea like it was her only connection to reality. The tea had begun to congeal at the top, the thin line of film leaving its’ mark on the sides of the mug. The broken hand mirror lay in pieces on the floor where she had dropped it.
“You’re mine, my precious,” it had said. She had dropped it in the shock. Mirrors don’t talk. Mirrors do NOT talk. . .Kelly gazed around the apartment dejectedly. He cares about me, she thought, I know he does.

The bruise didn’t hurt so much now.

I love him. She curled her fingers around her key chain, poking at the keys to his place. And he loves me. She wanted to go back. He would let her in, even after everything. He would kiss her and apologize, and everything would be all right. She picked up her coat and headed back into the rain.
********************************
How could you beg me to stay
Throw up your hands and plead
And then pack up your eyes and run away
As soon as I agreed. . .

The next day found Jason at the hospital, sitting in a chair next to a bed that held a mangled corpse, marked Kelly O’Shea. The driver had said she just stood there, like nothing mattered. He had honked and skidded, trying to brake through the rain.

“I shouldn’t have let her go. . .I shouldn’t have. . .”

Despair gazed at her sister and frowned. “It’s your turn now,” she whispered.
“I suppose. That poor thing. . ” Death sighed a tired sigh and looked at Kelly’s body. “Are you ready?”
Kelly nodded blankly and trailed behind the black-clad messenger. She stared over her shoulder as she walked, but turned her head eventually, leaving the scene behind her.