The last chapter's warning carries on into this chapter. This contains scenes of overdose, mentions of suicide and various themes that may be uncomfortable to some readers. I am willing to summarise the chapter in pm if people would prefer to skip it <3
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Thump, thump, thump...
Clara could feel her body being jolted as she remained limp. Her mind was trapped within, her body unable to respond to the functions her brain was screaming commands at. Her entire body ached, and her chest twanged with pain. She felt as if her insides had dropped and moulded together into one molten pit of hurt.
Thump, thump, thump.
She felt her body shift as her mouth dropped open. She was dying. She knew she was. She could feel it. It was getting colder, her mind was weak—her mind was never weak. Clara Shelby was dying. She was sure of it. She welcomed the feeling. The girl deserved it. She knew she did. She'd caused so much pain and suffering, she needed to die. It would rid everyone of their problems.
"C'mon, Shelby, don't give in that easily,"
A voice grunted and echoed in her hollow mind.
Thump, thump, thump.
Clara had almost winced at the voice, but it was warm and comfortable. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a winter's morning. It was familiar. Will was familiar. She was happy someone was going to be with her as she died. Dying alone seemed rather lonely.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara often heard that once on the brink of death, you begin to relive every memory and the ongoing moment. Pol had said it was to check if you had to repent especially hard and beg a divine power for forgiveness. Clara thought of it to be some form of torturous test. Firstly, Clara Shelby didn't beg. She hadn't begged for a long time, she wouldn't give in that easily. And secondly, how cruel did one have to be to show the living to the dead? They talk of ghosts haunting people but what about the people that haunt the ghosts? To show a life lost a life living seemed to be like dangling a bone in front of a dog. It was teasing and barbaric.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara's brain felt foggy, all emotions and memories blurred together into a technicolour swirl. She tried to think if she had a will...no, not Will, but a will, will. A dead person's will. The girl didn't have anything particularly important to will away and even if she did she couldn't even begin to fathom how to disperse it. Would Finn like her old hand-me-downs from their brothers? Would Arthur like the snow hidden beneath her room floorboards? Would John like the cigarette holder she'd stolen from him? Would Tommy like his books back? Pol her hairpins? Ada her broken vase that Clara stashed beneath her London bedroom floorboards?
Thump, thump, thump...
Noise was harder to make out. She could hear muffled voices through the haze. They were angry. Why were they angry? She was content where she was. Clara couldn't hear harsh and scaly voices that shredded her interior. She couldn't feel too much anymore. Only the twisting feeling in her stomach and the lack of air in her chest.
Thump, thump, thump...
"Don't just stand there, you knobs, call you a bloody ambulance or doctor!" Will's voice broke as he continued to thump his hands down onto the portion of Clara's chest above her heart. He'd witnessed it done before in the factory. This was his first time administrating the move.
His eyes barely flitted behind him where John and Finn stood frozen in shock. Sweat beaded across the Clarke boy's forehead in exhaustion as he fought to keep his best friend's heart beating. It had slowed and faltered twice before and had been barely there when he broke through the front door. He would not stop thumping down, not even if they tried to pull him away. He would continue. He would keep fighting for her life, even if Clara wasn't willing to.
He owed her that much.
And so he pressed down again.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara kind of wished that the pressure on her chest would lift and they'd let her fade hastily. She could feel life's touch linger on her mouth and heart as small puffs of air escaped. No, no, no. They were supposed to let her go, why wasn't she allowed to go peacefully?
Thump, thump, thump...
"How long has she been down?!" A voice questioned in panic, his usual gruff and joking tone now replaced by pure trepidation.
"In and out," Will's voice cut through, "her heart will slow and falter and it'll be at least thirty seconds to a minute. It's happened twice— WHERE'S THE BLOODY DOCTOR?"
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara hated that their voices were becoming clearer. She hated that they still cared. She hated it. Her thoughts blurred and Clara wasn't sure if it was her own mind or a divine power but sure enough, as Aunt Pol had once said, thoughts and memories flickered behind her closed eyes.
Clara being cuddled up into her mother's side as the bonfire roared while her brothers danced and ran around the field. Clara upon Arthur's shoulders as he skipped playfully down Watery Lane. Tommy grinning madly as he gifted her a small, fabric duck. Her brother's surprising her with Cannon. The entire family standing on the train platform, bidding goodbye to the brothers. Toddler Finn and young Clara dancing around the living room to a record their mother supposedly used to love. Clara and Ada going for 'tea' to pretend they were toffs but then ending up smashing both their glasses. Clara getting a long-awaited letter from her brother, written by John who ensured they were safe and alive. Clara and Will setting books alight by the Cut.
Thump, thump, thump...
Riding out beyond Small Heath and into her shared Wonderland. Passing her exams. Moving up in the family business. In London, where she met Nadia. Nadia laughing at Clara as they danced around the former's apartment on a drunken impulse. Kissing Nadia for the first time in the bathroom of the Kingsley club. The morning after, surrounded by a white sheet and being held between Nadia's arms. Nadia and Clara dancing to their heart's content. Nadia smiling at Clara's jokes.
Nadia, Nadia, Nadia.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara should've gone straight to Nadia's house. She should've gone and apologised and begged for forgiveness— not that she honestly deserved it. Clara couldn't really understand why she hadn't.
'Because you love her,' her brain whispered.
If Clara was conscious, she would've scowled and pushed the thought away.
To love was subjecting your loved one to a life of pain— 'The Shelby curse'. Just look at her mother and father...Tommy and Grace...John and Martha. To love was to die, and Clara really did not want that fate for Nadia. Not her Nadia, not her ever-so-sweet, caring, and thoughtful Nadia.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara couldn't quite explain why her memories were suddenly flooded with the girl and she certainly could not explain the wave of reassurance they brought. Nadia was now completely overriding every other memory, her smile shining golden lights over even the darkest of places.
No...not golden. Golden was the sun's colour and Nadia was not the sun. Penny had been. Penny was the sun and there was no changing that.
...But Nadia?
Nadia was the moon.
Unlike the sun, it did not pain Clara to look at her. In fact, the warm glow of the moon soothed every tendril of hatred inside her body. Nadia's effervescent and mesmerising way of orbiting Clara's world in a way so natural that she didn't realise how fitting it all was. Nadia was the moon. Soft, welcoming and hopeful. Her shine acted like a light in the dark depths of the night, never fading from the moment the sun set to the moment the sun entered the picture once more. Clara could live with the assurance that even on the brightest of days, Nadia would be there soon, despite not being seen. And when the night fell and engulfed the world and Clara into an endless darkness, Nadia would appear like the moon and act like a guiding light.
And Clara...Clara did quite love the moon.
Thump, thump, thump...
'You're going to leave her like a fool,' her mind murmured, 'just die without explaining or admitting?'
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara felt like she was falling. Tumbling and spinning into the void. She found herself no longer enjoying her death experience. She wanted out. Her mind hollowed, her thoughts coming sparingly as the pit in her brain opened up to suck her into nothingness. She could see something in the distance, it was colourful and bright, and it called her name.
Thump, thump...
"C'mon Shelby, COME ON!"
Thump, thump, thump...
She heard her name once more but it was softly said, said with admiration. A memory trickled into her vision. It was Nadia pressed close to her spine, her lips brushing over the gifted dark bruises left on Clara's neck. It was a simple memory, yet it caused her heart to fall. She'd never see Nadia again and it all seemed to be hitting her. Clara felt like a coward. She felt like a cowardly little girl.
Thump, thump, thump...
Clara had once briefly read a poem. It had been from a tattered book she'd found hidden in the depths of the bookshop but she could remember the poem quite clearly. It did not have a proper title, just simply a number and the starting line. The poem talked of death and dying. It talked of being prepared to welcome death with open arms...until the serenity is interrupted by something as simple as an interposing fly. It was supposed to represent regret, she had gathered. She never really understood it.
But she did now.
Her memory of Nadia had been quite like that little stumbling fly. It rebooted her mind and made her question everything she'd previously let go of. She wasn't quite ready to let the girl go.
Clara wasn't quite ready to die.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
"Her pulse is fading again!" Will shouted, his hands now rapidly pumping above her heart. His fear of losing his friend was suddenly becoming ever so real. With utter panic and fright, he whipped his head towards Finn and John. "HELP ME!"
Thump, thump, thump...
No, not yet...not yet, please God, not yet.
Thump, thump...
Clara didn't want to die just yet. She wanted to be remembered. She had to stay alive.
Thump...
She had to.
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SPOOLS OF SUNLIGHT FURLED INTO THE PRISTINE ROOM, its golden rays spread across the white sheets and along the curve of Clara's softened cheekbone. She lay eerily steady, the only indication of life being the slight puffs of air that escaped her mouth and the way her chest rose and fell on its own accord. Dark bags were painted beneath her eyes despite the abundance of sleep she'd gotten. Doctors had come and gone, and all of them had said the same thing.
"You must remember that her body needs to recover, Mr Shelby."
But Finn Shelby was impatient.
He had not left her side since she'd been moved here. He had left her once and just look how that turned out. His foot bounced against the wooden floor, each movement causing the floor to creak. The room was silent apart from that incessant noise. Finn was shrouded with guilt, it was clear as day...well, as clear as day in everywhere but Small Heath. His brothers saw it too, he knew they did.
They said nothing.
As soon as the ambulance had arrived, John had left to go spread the word that the mighty Clara Shelby had fallen. Will had refused to leave Clara's side, his shaking hands being ignored by everyone as he pestered the doctors with unabating questions. And then they'd all disappeared out of sight and Finn had been alone. He'd let the guilt of abandoning Clara on his shoulders and he'd bore some of the blame when an infuriated Tommy had found out what had happened.
Tommy had summoned Finn to his office and ordered that he be told everything from start to finish. And Finn had. He had told his brother every single detail. From leaving the pub to running into Clara from bringing her home, from running to try to find one of his brothers and finally to rushing home and finding Will over Clara's lifeless body.
Tommy hadn't reacted...well he had, just not in the way Finn had expected. His older brother had merely sighed and leaned against his desk in exhaustion as if this whole situation was the most inconvenient thing in his life. That Clara hanging on to the brink of death was merely like the cook burning his breakfast. His reaction had ignited rage within Finn who had to stand and listen to Tommy ordering him not to speak of the situation to anyone.
He hated it...but Finn remained quiet and silently seething.
She almost looked peaceful like this, he noticed. She didn't have the furrowed crease between her brows or the frown that often graced her face. Finn felt weird sitting and watching but he didn't want her to wake up alone. She didn't deserve that.
And so he'd sit as long as he'd have to.
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THE FIRST THING CLARA NOTICED was the dryness of her throat. She groaned ever so quietly, her head turning with her eyes still closed. She could smell fresh sheets, her eyes slowly beginning to blink heavily as she awoke. The daylight streamed through the window in soft rays that brushed over her cheeks. The girl felt a heavy feeling crushing her chest, each breath physically hurting. The room was swaying, the disorientation distorting everything around her.
The girl tried to push herself up but was promptly pushed back into bed by a pair of frantic hands.
"Just wait!" Finn huffed out as Clara struggled to fight against his grip. "You're so stubborn! Stop trying to get up! I'll get water." The girl watched as the boy fumbled with a glass and jug to pour the water. She grunted under her breath carefully as she pushed herself up, to sit against the headboard, ignoring all of the pain that crashed through her body at the movement.
The boy turned around with a scowl as he handed her the water. Clara gladly took it, gulping back every drop until the glass was empty. She handed it back to her brother who watched carefully and almost timidly.
"What happened?" She croaked, her nose scrunched up as she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes.
"Erm..." Finn scratched his head as he looked toward the door. "I'm supposed to get Tommy." The girl tilted her head. "But...You...you—"
"Spit it out will ya," Clara ran a hand through her ear as her brother shifted uncomfortably.
"You almost died..." Finn stated before he paused and added, "like a few times...look, I should go get Tommy and he'll explain." The boy almost ran to the door.
"Finn," Clara called out as the boy opened the bedroom door. The pit in her stomach formed. She already knew the answer to what she was about to ask. "My dream wasn't a dream...were they?" Finn looked down at his feet nervously as the girl's heart picked up its pace.
"No...they weren't, Tommy'll be here in a minute...just...stay in bed," Finn's eyebrows scrunched together while he held his arm out as if she were a dog going through obedience school.
Clara had worried him. His trepidation and careful manner did not go unnoticed. Finn was never attentive, he was as clumsy and careless as a deer on ice. Guilt shrouded her as the memories began to surface. She remembered her dream and her mother and the sweetshop and the fire. After that...it was all scattered. It was blurred and fuzzy, the memories unfocused and unintelligible. It was a twanging feeling that reverberated through her soul.
A shiver ran down her spine, the sweat on her forehead becoming more noticeable. She felt cold, even despite the warmth of the blankets she was smothered under. She sniffled as she lowered herself back beneath the covers. She felt like a little child. A small foolish, petulant child. Her fingers clutched the sheets, desperate to ensnare the heat that dared escape. A full throb had begun to stampede through her brain, its force numbing any fizzing thoughts.
The girl's head barely lifted from the bed as the door to the bedroom opened once more. She watched as the man strode across the room and stood against the wall beside her bed, bypassing the chair intended to be sat on.
"You're awake," Tommy stated, as he rooted in his pocket for a cigarette and held it between two fingers. "Care to explain what happened."
Clara watched carefully as he flicked open his metal lighter, the flame dancing. The girl watched the flame, flashes of memories bursting through the dull pounding. Memories of her mother, of the bonfire...of the sweetshop. She pulled the sheets higher up, her material brushing over her chin.
"I burned down the sweetshop." She answered firmly. She tried to ignore the shakiness of her voice as she spoke. "I had a dream..."
"...that wasn't a dream," Tommy finished her sentence for her as he cut her off. He made it seem like she was repeating the most basic and predictable sentence ever. "Finn told me." Clara lowered her eyes from her brother's piercing gaze as he let a puff of smoke escape. "I'm talking about after that."
Clara closed her eyes and tried to force her memories forward, but from the moment Finn found her to waking up in the bed she lay in, Clara couldn't remember a single thing.
"I don't know," she answered truthfully, however, Tommy wasn't all that convinced.
"You don't know," he let out a dry laugh as he pinched his nose, his feet beginning to pace. "You don't bloody know!"
"I don't!" Clara defended, her eyes following the man as Tommy finally sat down on the chair in exasperation. She watched as his hand reached into his coat, where he pulled out her leather holster and gun before he slammed it onto the bed. Clara gulped as her gaze met his.
"You want to fuckin' kill yourself?" Tommy questioned calmly. Clara flinched at the malice that hid behind his words. "You have a gun." Clara withdrew from her brother and his words.
Kill herself? She'd tried to kill herself?
Slowly and surely, the feelings trickled into her heart, each drop of dread carrying a blurred memory of that night. And it seemed impossible but something had been triggered in her brain and suddenly it was beginning to get clearer. She could remember the hole within her soul, the emptiness. She could remember the pain and suffering. She could remember the cocaine. All of it. She could remember calling someone. Her glazed eyes met her brothers and she suddenly felt a lot smaller than she was.
"Maybe next time I'll use it," Clara replied softly, yet her gaze was firm. Tommy clenched his jaw tight. "Matter of fact, could you pass it to me?" Her brother didn't say a word as the girl shifted and let the silence linger. She watched as he tried to analyse her. Clara leaned forward slightly.
"You see, Tommy, you talk the talk but I think if I was to splatter my brains across these pristine walls you'd mourn..." She emitted a bitter laugh.
"and I think you'd crack because I'd become a ghost. Just one ghost of many that haunt you." Clara continued, her voice steady and sharp before it softened once more. "Or perhaps you're the ghost...and we're all segments of your conscience telling you to get your act together."
"And the thing is, I want to...oh god, I would kill to just leave this...ALL of this behind." She smiled sadly, "because the reality of it is that I'm alone! God, I'm so alone!"
"And I hate it because when I'm alone I think and cannot stop fucking thinking." Two of her fingers prodded her forehead angrily. "Hell, I drink far more than I want to, so that I don't have to think straight, I bloody snort my body weight in snow so that I don't have to feel because all of it seems so much better than being here."
"And you know for once, just for once! I would like to go to bed with the reassurance that I won't dream... with the reassurance that I won't bloody wake up!" She blinked back her tears, ashamed that they were spilling down her cheeks. She did not cry. She hated it. "And you don't seem to get it! Because you waltz in here with your stoic little act and tell me the quickest way to kill myself."
She grabbed the gun from the bed and turned it over in her hands. Tommy watched her carefully, his startled blue eyes carefully hidden beneath his facade.
"You know, I had contemplated using the gun before because yes, it would be far more efficient— but that's precisely why I didn't. I deserved to suffer. I deserved to feel the pain and die suffering. I do not deserve an easy death, that defeats the purpose."
"You think you know everything, Thomas Shelby, but you know nothing. You know nothing at all because you are just a man. You are a lost man with no regard for any human emotion apart from anger and rage. So, you know nothing. Because if you did, we probably wouldn't be here...I'd like to think we wouldn't be here."
Clara let out a breath, her eyes searching for any sign of feeling on her brother's face. Her heart dropped at the emptiness.
"But whatever amiright?" She scoffed, "We're Shelby's. As long as we look to put together and look like a united business, everything else can go fuck itself!"
Clara rolled her eyes and slumped further into the bedding. She was angry. Angry and embarrassed. Heat had rushed to her face like the rage that had coursed through her mind. Tommy had yet to say anything and Clara wasn't quite sure she wanted him to. It would be just as disappointing as his reaction.
"Tokyo is for race days," Tommy spoke up, snapping Clara out of her thoughts. "Race days and grand openings. I told that to Arthur the night of the Garrison reopening. You know better than anyone else how a doped horse is after a race."
"I knew what the consequences were, Thomas," Clara huffed, "believe it or not, I have a brain. I knew the consequences but I don't care. Snow allowed me to have fleeting moments where this life was actually tolerable. The comedown was easily solved."
"The doctor said you're going to go through withdrawals." Tommy lowered his cigarette from his lips. "I've tossed all the cocaine on your person into the fire. Your room has been searched by both John and Arthur, all of it is gone— even the stuff under the floor."
"That's an invasion of privacy," Clara argued with a sneer. "How do you even know it's under my floor, eh? You're tearing it up for no reason!"
"You lost that right when you bloody overdosed on that shit." Tommy snapped, "and Did you think I was that unobservant that I don't know where you stash things? Do you think I didn't realise you did cocaine until now?"
"Yes,"
Tommy's jaw clicked as he stopped speaking.
"Wait," Clara quietly spoke up again. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. "you knew...this entire time, you knew?! And you ignored it?" Her eyes jumped around his face in disbelief. "Because now you've got me curious as to what else you've ignored. Did you know I've been seeing mum every once in a while? Did you know that I'm fucking crazy? That I hear voices urging me to do the unspeakable?" She paused, her face contorting in hurt as her brother merely watched. "You fucking infuriate me...get out."
"This is my house, you don't give out orders here," Tommy replied calmly as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray beside her bed.
"GET OUT!" Clara suddenly yelled, her eyes now brimming with hot tears as her voice cracked and broke. He had known. He had known that she was addicted. That she needed cocaine...needed help. He had known and it felt like someone had jammed a knife between her shoulder blades. The girl shoved the covers off her bed and swung her legs over the side. "GET OUT! GET OUT!"
She shakily stood to her feet and as she angrily jolted towards Tommy, her legs gave out. She fell against him. He caught her, already anticipating the weakness her body would experience. She cried in frustration as she pounded his chest with her fists, with each hit a yell following suit. Tommy was quietly shushing her, holding her as close to his chest as possible as she continued to sob.
"No, you knew! You...knew!" She screamed, her entire body ached and shivered while Tommy held her by her elbows to keep her standing. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate..." Clara descended into sobs as her chest heaved. Her knees fully buckled as Tommy held her, his arms holding her steady as she weakly struggled against his grip.
"You knew," Clara's voice broke once more as her face buried into his coat. Tommy let out a small sigh while he shifted his hold.
"You bloody knew..."
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HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS, how are you??
Let me explain something quickly, Clara is mad at her brother because she wants somebody to care about her and the fact Tommy knew about her problem but ignored it, absolutely tears her apart.
ANYWAYS, WHAT DID YOU THINK?? Can I just say that Will has my heart?
I love you all and I shall see you soon, (enjoy your weekly meme <3)