Bottled Up ((Closed))

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

The beat...it was resounding. It was...phenomonal. It surged through her like there was no tomorrow. Dixie threw her head back, letting her brown hair fall over her shoulders, and her brown eyes pierce her wall- which was bumping because of the stereo and how high it was set up to be. The strong sound of the music pulsated through her, she couldn't help but feel some reassurance. The beat continued, to throb, to throw itself at her- willingly. Wanting to do anything in its power to obey her every nerve and every word. Metallica was bursting through the room, breaking the walls at its seams. And although it was very much a Muggle band, Metallica calmed Dixie down to the point where she wouldn't want to break down and cry.

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take." The throaty and very eerie voice which raised goosebumps on the nape of her neck and on her arms- sang, leading a child into the prayer. Although the song was as dark as it could be, Dixie adored it. She adored it to the point of worshiping it. Alright, maybe not that much of adoration. Dixie sighed and stood from her position on the floor- the song coming to a much dreaded end. She tucked some hair behind her ear as she walked to her twin sized bed. The sight of it brought hurt and frustration to her. It wasn't three months before- she was in her large room with her huge bed and her wondrous life. Now, she was in this small but luxurious apartment- with a small room and a small bed. Her life was hell, and Dixie would admit it, but only if she were asked.

The truth behind her lies, were that the divorce is tearing her apart- and she would much rather die then live. She had a smile or a smirk rather, plastered on her face in the presence of her mother or sister, for their sake. But alone in her room, or with herself, she was torn. Torn apart by the monstrosity of her parents ugliness and her father's unfaithfulness. Of course, Dixie knew about her father's many affairs- but never thought he would have more than an infatuation. More than just...in it for the pleasure. She never dreamed that he would leave Pam because of another woman. Never. And now, what she thought to be true- and what really was....isn't. It brought a terrible sadness to her and she felt like dying, felt like falling apart at the seams and disappearing into a blob of human parts. She would never show her weakness, but she would never get over it either.

She knew she needed help, she knew she needed the truth to hit her and otters in the face- but she wouldn't ever ask for it. In Dixie's eyes, that was a sin. A large sin. A sin that no matter how hard she tried to repent about, she couldn't. Dixie had to be strong. She had to be, for her mother, and Mack. Mack was holding up well, but if she was anything like Dix- it was lies. Dixie and Mack weren't as different as they seemed to be, and Dixie knew this. Mack wasn't aware of it. But she would be soon enough. Her feelings, were bottled up- and because of the too much carbonation- the bottle was threatening to explode...and explode it would. Dix knew it would. And Dix anticipated it to. She wanted it to. But not in front of everyone else.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

*Plop!* They landed. Sure, they landed in the water- and were probably sogging wet now, but that didn't bother her. She swung her leg out of the window sill- retreating onto the vine of Ivy that trailed upward against the wall. Her hands grasped it tightly, and she continued to shimmy down the vine to the ground. The two story allowed easy escapes for Dixie. Especially in times like this. She sighed, and landed on the ground- mud squishing in between her toes. It didn't matter; she was going to get wet anyway, so it didn't matter if she was muddy. The place where she was going, there was no need to be clean- it would clean you there. She picked up her heels and held them by the straps and was about to turn to leave when she heard someone call her name, "Dixie!"

The voice was a wistful whisper, but she knew who it was. Dixie's eyes scaled the wall to the window next to her bedroom. Mack had her hands on the windowsill, her red hair was braided back, and she looked like she had been woken up. It didn't surprise Dix, she wasn't the sneakiest person ever. Mack blinked at her, and waited for an explanation. Dixie never gave her one. She simply rolled her eyes, and then continued down the pathway to the road. Lights blared at her, and Dixie had to shield her eyes so she wouldn't get a headache from the sudden brightness. There was a sudden screech of wheels, and someone pulled back to her. A window was rolled down and Dixie leaned over to see who had stopped. Jamie. Dixie blinked, "Need a ride, Dix?" He asked her with a raise of his eyebrows.

She blinked again. This couldn't be Jamie. Jamie was a nerd. Glasses, weird haircut and everything. Now he had contacts, and a nice haircut that made Dix want to run her fingers through. She breathed in, and nodded before opening the car door and getting inside. The familiar smell of his cologne wafted in and greeted her. She breathed in again, letting the smell flourish her nostrils- before looking at him as he pulled away. She was suddenly very aware of how short her skirt was, and how low cut her top was. She pulled her shirt up a little, and yanked her skirt down some. Jamie was never really, that kind of guy, but it still made Dixie uneasy. The music came to a stop, and Jamie reached over to get into the glove compartment. Dixie jumped, clearly getting the wrong impression.

"You okay? I just wanted to get in and get another cd...Dixie what's wrong?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and she exhaled. She shook her head and closed her eyes, before putting her head in her hand. She wouldn't tell him. She wouldn't tell anyone. No one could break her of this grduge she was holding. No one could budge into her emotions- no matter how hard they tried. Not even Jamie, who seemed so welcoming and so sweet. Dixie moistened her lips and looked at him before even considering to answer. She would lie, of course.

"I just...I need to get away from the house. Can you drop me off at Underground?" Dixie asked in the most polite tone she could muster. Jamie didn't believe her, but he nodded and turned left toward the Underground. The Underground was a very exclusive club in downtown London. Jamie knew his way there by heart, only because his father owned it. The Underground had started when the muggle population started to take over. Mr. Andrews decided it was time to make a place where only non-muggle-loving purebloods could be. Thus, the creation of the Underground. Dixie had been there many of times. Mack only once. Jamie found this odd. They came to a stop in a parking space, the engine was turned off and they got out. Jamie was on his way to the Underground as well, so it was very convenient that he had seen Dixie walking along the road.

Dixie felt a hand on the small of her back and she cast a look at Jamie, but all he did was smile reassuringly and lead her inside. Already she heard the strong beat of the music wafting toward her. She couldn't wait to get in there and break loose. She couldn't wait to dance her worries away with some sexy guy. Which she would do. She planned on it. But before she could get away, "Dance with me..." Jamie whispered into her ear seductively. Dixie blinked at him, but nodded- leading him to the dance floor. This was what she needed.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

Her head was killing her. Killing her to the point of insanity. She was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, and wishing the world to cease to exist. To be silent and still, with no more interupptions. Dixie knew that would never happen- but it never hurt to wish for it. The music was still blaring, as loud as it could, and it was sending Dix into a place where her head hurt like no other. She pressed her palm to her forehead, as if to knock out the pain. It didn't go anywhere. She sighed in defeat as Jamie appeared with two bottles of firewhiskey, "Here," he said as he handed her one, "drink. It'll make you feel better." Was he mad???

"Are you insane? All this will do, is make me worse! You're nutters!" Dixie screeched at him. But all Jamie did was smirk and open the bottle before taking a drink from it himself. Dixie looked at her bottle and sighed before opening it and doing the same. The liquid burned her tongue and it was tart- but she still drank it. It gave her a sense of wellness, but it would go away at a certain point in time. Dixie was sure. The music seemed to blur together and the lights seemed to mesh into one colour as she made her way back onto the dance floor. There were bodies being shoved her way, but she pushed past them to get to the corner which didn't seem to be occupied.

She was wrong.

"Dad?!" Dixie asked, not bothering to hide the surprise from her voice. Derreck Holden looked up. He looked unshaven and filthy, as if he hadn't showered in days. There was no odor coming from him, so it must have been a new look. Dixie crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting for him to say somehting. His brown eyes pierced hers, but it wasn't an angry sort of pierce but a loving one. He stood, and immediately Dix felt intimidated. He was taller than her, larger than her, and she knew with one quick strike to her head- he could kill her. But somehow she also knew that he wouldn't.

"Dixie..." What he did next, surprised her. Surprised her so much she was in complete shock until he led her into an empty room. He hugged her. And this wasn't a family get together hug, this was an actual hug. The kind that crushes rib-cages. He hugged her and said; "I've missed you so much, Dix, so much. Can we talk, please? Honestly talk. One on one?" This was very unlike Derreck Holden. Very unlike. But Dixie couldn't say no. She couldn't pull away and run. Could she? Even if she could, she wasn't completely sure she wanted to. Then she allowed herself to be led away.

They found an empty and secluded room, where they could talk. As much as Dixie wanted to spend time with her father, she didn't want to talk. At least, she was pretty sure she didn't want to talk about what he wanted to talk about. Dixie sat down and curled into a little ball in the corner of the couch, waiting for him to speak to her. She wasn't going to say the first thing. He had to. He was the one who wanted to talk, he was the one who had to strike up the conversation. Derreck paced in front of her, wringing his hands together. Finally, he sat down- on the table, but still was sitting. He looked at her and started; "Dixie, I know...I know that I have done some bad things..."

Dixie scoffed, "Some? That's the understatement of the year. You've done more than some bad things. You've hurt me, mother, and Mack. Though you might not care about Mack, you still hurt her. You've ruined my life, and those who I care about!" She said this without hesitation. And it seemed to hurt Derreck, but she didn't care. Dixie watched and waited for his reply. And when it came, it wasn't what she expected, "The truth is...I needed some...time alone."

"ALONE?! ALONE?! Liar! We didn't do anything to clutter you! And if alone is what you mean by being with another woman, then I guess you needed to be plenty alone thse past years!" Dixie was standing by now. She sent glares at him, her arms were crossed and she waited for him to say something more. All he did was lower his head, stand and leave without another word. Dixie screamed and kicked a vase, sending it flying across the room and shattering as it hit the wall.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

How she returned to the apartment was rather obvious the next morning, when Dixie awoke to find Jamie sitting in a chair across from her bed. Dixie looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then let her eyes linger down to her body- which was clothed with a bra and underwear. She pulled the blankets up further to hide herself and looked at him with glaring eyes. Jamie leaned back in the chair, and looked at Dixie with a raised eyebrow. As if he were expecting the explanation. Which...was odd. Because, she was the one who wanted one. There was a silence, a stretch of silence so thick and long that it bothered Dixie. It was uncomfortable, and so eery.

It wasn't broken. The silence. For a good ten minutes. It seeped through her. Into her body, and echoed throughout her hollowed bones. She laid back on her pillow, closed her eyes, and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. Fall fiercly. Jamie made a noise, and Dix opened her eyes to look at him. He was standing beside her bed now, and in one movement he was perched on the edge of it. She looked at him with annoyance, but didn't shoo him away. His company, however annoying it was, was much wanted. Dixie sighed, bit her bottom lip, and put her hand to her forhead as if to releave herself of the memories and thoughts that were flourishing through her mind.

The silence was back. It didn't bother her as much as it had before. This silence was welcoming, it flowed through Dixie- warming her and making her drift away. But she was soon snapped out of reality when Jamie grabbed her hand. She bolted up, holding the blanket against her chest, and snatched her hand back. He chuckled;

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. No need to be so jumpy, Dix." Dixie didn't say anything. Her lips were chapped. Her voice didn't seem to work. Her tongue felt thick and she felt like there was a lump in her throat, blocking any words from escaping. She was mute. She didn't want to speak. Her lips were stitched together, and they wouldn't seperate. She felt like she was going to throw up, but she wouldn't. Dixie licked her lips, feeling the cracks in them. She was thirsty. So very thirsty, but wasn't going to get up and get a glass of water. She could summon it. But she didn't know where Jamie had put her wand.

Silence.

Jamie: "Are you alright, Dixie?"

Dix:

Jamie: "Cos if there is something bothering you, you can tell me."

Dix:

She wasn't going to talk to him. She didn't want to talk to him. Instead, she snuggles underneath her blanket, closes her eyes- and wishes he would leave. When she reappeared, he was gone.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

Her reflection was not her. It couldn't be her. She was looking at an alien version of herself. The girl in the mirror looked nothing like her. Her lips were chapped, and sore, and even threatening to bleed from cracking so much. She wore a deep depressed look in her eyes, and her skin was as white as it could be for her. Dixie Holden was no longer Dixie Holden. Her brown eyes didn't dance with life and malice anymore. Her smile never showed. Instead, in place of her smile, there were sores. Sores from not talking. Sores from not smiling. Her throat was permanately closed up. She didn't plan on talking any time soon.

She blinked. Her vision had begun to blur. Dixie shook her head rather forcefully and crawled back into bed, hiding beneath the covers. She didn't want to be found. She wanted to never come out. To never leave her bed. She knew that would never happen. But she wished it would. The only movement was the steady rise and fall of her chest, and the blinking of her eyelids. It was silent. It was silent and it was still. It was what Dixie had been wanting for a week. And now that she had it, she didn't want it. Instead, she wanted to be happy. To laugh, and smile again. To have that dancing gleam in her eyes. But it wasn't going to come and she knew it. She was defeated. Defeated with an ugly emotion. With an emotion she hated. With sadness. She was depressed. She admitted it. But she would never do anything to cure it.

There's a knock. It breaks the silence. Dixie silently curses the person behind the door. She silently curses her sister for letting the bloody visitor in. And she silently curses her mother and father for getting a divorce. Another knock, then the door opens. Dixie removes the blanket from around her head. She finds herself eye to eye with Tommy.

Tommy: "Hey..."

She doesn't say anything. She would never say anything ever again. But inside her head she thinks, what is he doing here? Why does he have any interest in coming over and getting comfortable in my room? He's Mack's producer, not my friend. Tommy looks uncomfortable. Dixie thinks she smiles, but it stings and she knows she hasn't. His uncomfortableness made her wish to smile. She was a true Slytherin. Tommy shuffled his feet and scratches the back of his head. He doesn't know what to say. He's hoping Dixie will speak. Never. He grabs a chair and sits. Looks at her...she doesn' look away. Her glare is as icey as ever. Finally he breaks it.

Tommy: "I heard you haven't been out of your room all week. I wanted to come by and see if you were...alright..."

His last word seemed to be dragged out. He had spotted her mouth. The scabby crustation that was her mouth. It was chapped, and scabbed. Dixie knew. But she wouldn't do anything to cure it. A look of concern came over Tommy's face. Dixie studies this. She wishes she could show emotion again. She was emotionless now. Her face was just a blank canvas. It never moved. Not even to scream. Not even to show frustration. A ping hits her inside her heart. That feeling of dreaded loss overwhelms her. She wants to cry. But doesn't.

Tommy: "Want to grab something to eat?"

Yes! She was starving! She wanted to eat lunch with him! She wanted to talk and flirt!

Dixie: "No."

She spoke. She winced at the hoarse sound that was her voice. Her lips bled. She winced. Dixie put a finger to her lip and wiped at the blood. It flooded into her mouth slowly. It tasted like metal. Sweet metal. It showed she was still alive. Dixie looked back at Tommy. He seemed to be even more concerned now. Her heart sank. It took this to get his attention. Her nearing death in her own heart. Dixie lowered her head, holding back the stinging tears. There was silence. She didn't even realise he had left. Until she looked up to say something about actually eating. The chair was empty.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

It stung. The sun. It stung her eyes. She saw red. The inside of her eyelids. They didn't show the world. She couldn't see anything now. With her eyes closed, she was non-existant. Until the sun rose. Then she remembered. She was living. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open to reveal her mother and Mack around her bed. Dixie would have groaned- had she been able to open her mouth. Her hands covered her eyes, blocking out the sun and them as well. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to pretend to care. Truth was, she didn't care. At all. Her mother looked down at her. Was that sympathy or hatred in her eyes? Dix wasn't sure anymore. Mack was looking at Dixie with concern, but boiling anger as well. Dixie knew Mack was mad that Jamie had taken her to the club two nights before.

Pam: "Dixie, honey, you need to get up. Bathe, and eat. Please, for me?"

She didn't move. Her mother was right. She should bathe and she should eat. And she would. When they left. Dixie would sneak into the bathroom, and let the water flood over her. She wanted to feel clean. Not that she felt filthy, but she didn't exactly feel spotless. Dixie's stomach growled in reminder of not eating in two days. She had lost weight. About 10 pounds. From starving herself. She had only been drinking water. Lots of water. She survived. But she was slowly eating herself away. Dixie looked at her mother. She was patient. Mack wasn't.

Mack: "Bloody hell, Dix! Get the hell up! Stop wallowing!"

Her little sister through the blankets off of her, and pulled her up. Dixie closed her eyes, waiting for the frail wrist which Mack had a firm grip on, to snap. It didn't. Slowly she opened her eyes, and looked down at the ghostly white skin and bone. Mack's forefinger and thumb were touching- Dixie had lost weight. Being pulled up so quickly, a rush of blood went to her head. She felt dizzy. She needed to sit. But Mack wouldn't let her. Either Mack had gotten stronger, or Dix had grown weaker. Probably the latter. Dixie let out a sharp breath as she grasped her nightstand. The world was spinning. Faster. Faster. Faster. She needed to sit. Before she collapsed. She tried. She couldn't. Mack wouldn't let go. Dixie opened her mouth to speak. It hurt too much.

Pam: "Let her go, Mackenzie! She's lightheaded!"

She fell. She fell and landed on a soft cushioney paradise. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she breathed slowly. The world stopped spinning. She didn't want to move. But she was forced to. This time it was a gentler grasp on her wrist, both of them. Dixie didn't look to see who was pulling her up. But undying gratitude went out to the person who was doing it gently. She was then swept into the person's arms and carried out of the room. She knew this by the smell. The smell. It changed. Her room smell musty. The other rooms in the apartment smelled...crisp. Dixie blinked and looked at who was carrying her. She mustn't have weighed much. 100 pounds maybe? For Jamie was carrying her. And she thought it very chivalrous of him to do so. She didn't protest. She lay limp in his arms. He carried her to the living room and set her on the couch.

A porcelain doll that blended in with the white material. The only thing that stood out was her hair. She was that pale. Jamie set her down and then cradled her head upward. He pulled out a sandwhich from a bag next to him, and gently fed it to her. Slowly, Dix opened her mouth. Allowed him to put the sandwhich in her mouth, and she chewed. The food. It tasted...great. She wanted more, but she wouldn't allow herself to appear too eager. Dixie ate slowly. She ate slowly, but she ate loads. And finally, her strength seemed to appear. Water followed the sandwhich, and then an apple that was cut into pieces. The juice slid down her throat, quenching it's thirst. Mack and her mother had appeared in the room, watching with awe as Dixie accepted the food Jamie offered. It was a scene that had never happened before. Mack looked angry. Pam looked relieved. Dixie sputtered as the water went down the wrong pipe.

No more.

She thought she had thought that. But was surprised to hear her voice. Jamie smiled weakly and nodded, holding her up and sitting behind her so her head could rest on his lap. Her brown hair sprawled everywhere and clashed with his blue jeans. Dixie closed her eyes, wanting to sleep, but not letting herself. She felt fingers run through her hair- and Dixie didn't protest against that either. She was ill. And he was curing her. She was grateful. Mack wasn't. She left the room, her red hair flying behind her. Jamie didn't stop running his fingers through Dixie's hair. She felt as if she were a child again. Being loved by some friend from down the street. She savored the feeling.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

Never wanted to wake up. Dix wanted to drift away in that island paradise forever. Just sitting there. Letting the warmth engulf her and send her to another place where she felt alive. Where she wanted to be alive. But she couldn't stay. She had to return to Earth. To the place where her nightmares lay before her, like an open book. Dixie despised it. She despised the house she lived in, it reminded her of a mortuary. Everyone walked on tip-toes around her. As if one wrong movement and she would collapse...again. She was stronger than she had been. Thanks to Jamie. Lots of thanks to Jamie. He was her best-friend. He was her support. Mack didn't like it. In fact, she said some rather obscene words to Dixie about it. Dixie blocked them out. She didn't have time for Mack's pathetic whining.

Mack: "Why can't you get your own friends?"

Dix:

Mack: "Do you ever speak? For God's sake, open your mouth Dixie!"

Dix:

She would never speak. Not to her. The only person she spoke to now was Jamie, and even he didn't get much talking. She would say thank you, hello, good bye, and all the normal things. But she wouldn't utter a word of her thoughts. Not to anyone. Her mouth was still chapped, but not as badly as it had been. Often enough Dixie found herself staring in the mirror, imagining what it would be like to have stitched lips. So they couldn't move, so they couldn't part. She thought it would make life easier for her. She barely ever opened her mouth now...why would it matter if they were stitched shut or not?

There was a knock on her door, it cuased her to jump. She quickly turned around and looked at the person who entered. Mack. Again. Dixie sighed and turned back around to look at herself in the mirror. Her brown hair was flat, and her brown eyes still didn't have that sparkle they did before. She was pale and thin. Like a twig. She was whiter than Mack was...and Mack wasn't exactly tan at all. Dixie shuddered lightly at her reflection. She looked like a ghost. Without a word, she let the curtain down over her mirror- she didn't like looking in it for too long. Then she walked over to her bed and crawled in. Hiding from Mack. Who was talking...again...about Jamie...again. Expressing how much she hated him and how Dixie shouldn't befriend him. Dixie rolled her eyes. What did Mack know? She got everything she wanted.

Finally, Dixie snapped. She couldn't take it anymore. Her eyes turned blood red as she turned her attention on her sister.

Dixie: "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM! NOW!"

Mack left. Scared. Dixie slept. Heavily. It was good to sleep...

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

I want to die. I want to hide myself from the world. Crawl in a hole. And die. I want to taste death in my mouth, and I want to stop breathing. I don't want to be suffocated by this constant life that surrounds me. What's the use? There is none. THe point in living was to live and love. I can't do either. If I live...I die. If I love...I don't get loved in return. Everything falls apart. At night I lie in my bed. Thinking about the good times and the bad times. Then it dawns on me. The majority of my life is my bad memories. I don't want them to be there. I want to die.

Everything was packed. Packed and ready to go. She had found her wand next to her dresser. Jamie had left a note that night. A note that she had just found. Dixie read it over and over again. Not believing what it said. Then she crumpled it up, and threw it away. It made no difference. Dixie had decided the night before, she would run away from her problems. She was through facing them head on. There was no point to it. There was no point to trying to survive. None. And nothing was going to change her mind. Not even a letter that stated his love for her. She was unflinching in her plan. She wasn't going to back out.

The moon shone brilliantly in the night sky that night. The night she had decided to leave. All was silent except for the scraping of Dixie's shoes hitting the pavement. She was walking to a safe distance away from the muggle lands. Dixie was going to apparate to a familiar place. One she wasn't sure about going to, but had no where else in mind. Padme's house. Dixie entered the woods, her suitcase following after her magically. Once she came to clearing, she picked up her suitcase, pocketed her wand- and got the image of Padme's house in her mind. Then...*pop* she was gone.

I wouldn't be surprised if they don't even notice me missing until morning in two weeks. It's not like they came in to check on me every day. They figured I wasn't going to go anywhere, so why waste their time looking in on me. They were smart. Without them neglecting me, I wouildn't have been able to get away so cleanly and quickly. Lucky me. Maybe my luck is changing. Then again, maybe not.

She appeared in front of a house. A large house. Padme's house. Maybe. She wasn't sure. She couldn't remember. Her memory had gone fuzzy. Dixie inhaled, the cold air stinging her lips. She was tempted to lick them- but didn't. They remained chapped. They remained sealed shut. Dix grasped her suitcase and continued toward the house. She looked around and then knocked briskly on the door. Wondering who would answer. Anticpating Padme since it was so late at night. But not getting her at all. Who opened the door...was someone Dixie wasn't expecting. But she didn't say anything. She stood in the doorway, her luggage threatening to break her wrist- and waited for Jack to say something.