Blue Christmas



Scene Title Blue Christmas
Synopsis It's okay, it isn't blasphemous if you're not religious.
Date December 25, 2010

The Bronx

Lynette's life has never been classified as a smart life. Full of drifting, law breaking, terrorism, captivity, experimentation, flirtations with insanity and let us not forget the drug addiction. She certainly won't be.

Not that she's any stranger to addiction. Cigarettes, for one, when she was a kid. Vodka, once she was a bit older. Men, particularly ones with their own problems with drifting. And now, recklessness, perhaps. While she'd never admit it to anyone else, in recent months, she hasn't been making the best choices. Careful thought and meticulous decision-making flitted away from her sometime over the summer. She never would have attempted an escape with them knocking at the back of her mind. And she'd never be using the abandoned Gun Hill as a hiding place, either. But where else did she have?

But it isn't just necessity, she has to admit to herself, at least. It's curiosity. Or some need for an adrenaline kick. Some sort of obsession she's clinging to. It's why she skirts along down the alley they grabbed her in, it's why she comes to linger on this particular street from time to time. Elisabeth was right, of course. She really should have gotten some therapy after.

And standing in the wrecked remains of her former home… well, it's a helluva way to spend Christmas. But that's alright, she was never into the holidays anyway. Plus, her mother is Jewish. Or that's the story, at least.

With her last vial of the bright blue concoction in hand, Lynette makes her way out of the building, back through the alley. She's call it a form of narcissism, that quiet, unspoken wish that maybe they're still watching. You know, if she was admitting it was there. Which she isn't. She's just finding her way to a quiet, cheap motel. Just to a bed. One last dance with memory. She's also not admitting the small voice wondering how often she'll be making the one last time promise to herself.

Hell of a way to spend Christmas.

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