End Of Passion Play - {James Hetfield/Metallica}

Chapter 25 | Fade to Black

A/N: Hello, my lovely readers!! I really hope you're enjoying this story so far! Remember every single comment and vote is much apprieciated. About this chapter, it is a filler chapter, and so is the next one. You can skip over to chapter 27 and it won't make much difference.

"Mom, is the world gonna end in 2000?" Blair asked as me, her, and James were gathered in the living room watching football.

"No," I laughed. "Of course not. All these rumors going around about that are false.".

Blair looked at me doubtfully. "Really?".

"Yes, really." I sighed, leaning my head on James' shoulder.

"Wooo, touchdown!" he shouted, pumping his fist.

I looked up at him and smiled. Christ, I love him. I thought. I don't fucking deserve him. I really don't.

"Dad, can you teach me For Whom the Bell Tolls sometime?" Blair asked him.

"Yeah, of course!" James replied. "On Saturday night you can try playing it with us; it's not super hard.".

The following Saturday night, we had a jam session at our house. I didn't tell anyone, but almost everyday the thought of death crossed my mind. In my head, I would weigh the pros and cons of being dead.

I poured some whiskey into my diet Coke, hearing Blair and James playing For Whom the Bell Tolls together.

Blair has so much potential. She deserves way better than me; hell, both her and James do. I told myself.

"Hey, Sarah, you got any beer?" Lars asked, scaring the shit out of me.

"Oh! Shit! Uh… yeah." I replied, trying to hide the whiskey I was pouring. "I-it's in the fridge.".

"A'ight.". I heard the sound of the fridge door opening, and then closing again, and I waited until Lars was gone to put the whiskey back in the fridge.

I took a long sip of my drink and then felt for the pack of cigarettes in the back pocket of my high- waisted jeans. I went outside and stood on the porch, lighting a cigarette.

As I exhaled the smoke through my nose and watched it rise in front of me, I heard the front door creak open. I didn't look, but I knew it was Kirk.

For a moment, he leaned on the railing with me, looking up at the night sky.

I put my cigarette in the ashtray and let out a long sigh.

"Sarah," Kirk finally said. "Do you wanna talk to me? I know you're not okay.".

"I…" I started, but I couldn't go on.

"I'm sorry about your dad.".

I shook my head. "Don't be; it's not your fault. It's no one's fault. It's just life. You lose everyone you love, unless you go first.".

Kirk stared into my eyes for a second, giving me a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, you're absolutely right. Um, so, when we were at woodstock, um…".

"Mhm, go on…" I said quietly, intensely staring at him, wondering what he was going to say.

"You said... well, you don't… really want to die, do you?".

I bit the inside of my lip and shut my eyes, a lump in my throat. If I said yes, Kirk would worry about me. But if I said no, I'd be lying.

"Sarah?" he asked.

"Kirk, I… I do want to die." I sighed. "I think about it every fucking day. I weigh the pros and cons.".

"There's more cons, trust me.".

"No, all I do is fuck things up. I already fucked up myself, and I don't wanna fuck up Blair's life.".

"You won't.".

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "Kirk, I'm turning into my mom, and I don't want to. Alcohol controls me, but it's not my monster. I'm my own monster, and I'm the only one who can save myself." I said, looking up at Kirk. "So, basically, I'm fucked.".

He stared at me, struggling to find the right words.

"C'mon, let's go back in." I said, opening the front door. "I wanna sing now.".

He followed me inside. "And Blair will play bass?" he asked.

"Yeah!".

"What song?".

"Fade to Black.".