You're Already Gone

[Sawyer Crowley]

Sawyer walked into work that day looking rough. She had been told that if she needed a week off, she could have one. However, do to her stubborn nature, she refused. After all, it was only her sister. It was no big deal. It was everywhere, all over every single Daily Prophet. Sandrine Rosaire Killed. She couldn't walk down the street without hearing someone talk about it or see someone reading the story. She sighed deeply, climbing the steps. It was a rare day in her life that Sawyer let herself appear in public wearing sweats. At least she was matching. She had one a hot pink athletic jacket and hot pink sweat pants. Her wand stuck out of the elastic of her pants, and she had on those delightful things called flipflops. Gosh she LOVED her flipflops. Pushing her hair out of her face, Sawyer stepped onto the Prophet floor and went to her office.

Flopping down in her chair, Sawyer stared down at the paper work infront of her. Couldn't someone else do this? She had other things to deal with today. She slumped in her chair, not understanding why this was hitting her so hard. Sandrine wasn't even like a real sister to her! They'd bickered and fought their whole lives, always getting in each others way and trying to ruin whatever was going right. She chewed on her lip and looked at the picture on her desk that she kept there so people wouldn't think she was a heartless bitch. It was of her, Sandrine, and Jayme on Sandrine's 13 birthday. The three were all dolled up, and it almost made her laugh at how much makeup they had on. It was ridiculous, they looked like clowns. What had they been thinking? Sawyer's long blonde hair fell back infront of her eyes and she frowned. Slamming the picture face down, she stood up and walked out onto the balcony, not feeling the whole sitting-at-my-desk-and-moping thing.

First Isaac, now Sandrine. It was as if it had all been planned. Those two had been bestfriends, lovers, enemies...and now they were dead. Right along side each other until the end. She groaned, leaning against the balcony and looking up at the sky. Sawyer really didn't want to be upset about their deaths, but she couldn't help it. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she loved them both on some level, and it was upsetting that she would never see either of them again. Never talk to them, never fight with them, never pretend they didn't exist. She would never have those once a decade moments where she would go crying to her sister about something awful that happened. She would never feel the dread that Sandrine brought, but also the small comfort in the fact that she was there. Images flashed through her mind, even the ones of her extremely short stint with Isaac. Come to think of it, she hadn't spoken to either of them since that night. Tragic.

Pulling her hair back, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well, I guess it's just me now." She muttered. "Just me."

[Georg Rilow]

[/i], so I won't say it. But just know, if you need someone to talk to, or just ease your mind or distract your.. Or buy you dinner or whatever - I'm here."[/ul]

[Sawyer Crowley]

Sawyer was a little surprised to have Georg standing next to her, telling her that he would be there for her. He had gone through much worse recently, and with someone he actually cared for. Georg's boyfriend Scott had died just a short while ago, and Sawyer had been so power hungry and distracted that even though she'd been to the funeral and given Georg a hug, she'd pretty much left him alone. She sighed and wiped her eyes. They felt itchy, like she was about to cry. She couldn't cry over Sandrine, that was just stupid. If she was going to cry over anyone, it would be Isaac. At least he'd actually cared for her, or at least so she thought. Sawyer looked at Georg and couldn't help but start crying. She felt like such a pathetic waste of everyone's time. She wished she could just go back in time and see her mom, ask her what to do, how to feel. Her father would be no help. No doubt he was beyond devastated over the loss of his first born child.

"Oh Georg," Sawyer whispered. "What am I going to do? I don't even know why I'm so upset over this. She hated me, HATED me. We haven't even come close to getting along since we were kids, so why do I feel like a piece of me just died?" Sawyer's tears muffled her words, and she placed her hands over her face. She despised feeling this weak. She laid her head on his shoulder and sniffled, wiping her eyes once more. It was so odd how quickly her emotions changed. Now, through her depression, she could feel the anger welling up inside her. She wanted to punch something, especially her sister. How dare she die and cause her to feel like such a child? How could she leave things the way she did? Clenching her fists, Sawyer stood up straighter and looked down at herself. "I can't believe you let me come into work looking like this today." Her ice blue eyes looked down at her sweats and then back up at Georg, pouting.

"I need some coffee." Sawyer muttered.

[Georg Rilow]

[Sawyer Crowley]

Sawyer sighed. Georg was right, of course. Now that she thought about it, a small part of her had always prayed that one day she and Sandrine would make up. She could see it now, the two of them sitting by the fire at Christmas, with their little girls asleep in their laps. They would whisper quietly to each other as their husbands would run around outside with their father, playing rugby or something. The image quickly faded though, because that wasn't Sandrine. That would never be Sandrine. She was heartless, a whore, she would probably never get married or have children (which sucked because she appeared to be a lot closer to the whole getting married thing than she was).

Sawyer chewed on her lip and grabbed Georg by the hand. She dragged him into the girls' bathroom where she magicked her hot pink sweats into a pale pink dress suit that looked very appropriate for work, but also gave her kind of a naughty secretary look to her. Her white tennis shoes changed into pink stilettos, and she was satisfied. She could do her makeup on her own. "I just wish she had never started to hate me, you know? I mean really you can't blame her. My mother didn't leave me to be a psycho werewolf. Our parents are a very big part of the bad blood between us, you know? What went down between them all was very very ugly. Her mother attacked mine! Actually, it was a little bit my mother's fault for sleeping with her married best friend, but honestly I see no reason to nearly kill her." Sawyer sighed and turned to her friend. "How do I look?"