Categories > Cartoons > Delilah and Julius > The Last Night
The Academy was always silent after midnight, save for the soft snores of sleeping agents getting their much deserved rest. However, this night, one student could not sleep. She sat on her bed, sobbing. Not because of how horrible her day had gone, but because of what she had just done.
How silly, to think that only a few hours ago, Delilah had thought that today would be one of the better days in her life. After nearly two weeks of “relaxation” with her father, Al had finally decided to send the team on a mission. Delilah had been in raptures as she quickly packed her bag, grinning the whole time. She would finally get some alone time with Julius, so they could hopefully work out their problems. There had been no doubt in her mind that they would – they always did. As they had walked to the plane, Delilah had to force herself not to run and cry out with joy. But her euphoria was to be short lived.
As always, neither of them had talked as the plane had taken off. They usually liked to go over the mission in their mind for a few minutes, before settling in to casual chatter. Yet, when the seatbelt sign turned off, and just as Delilah had opened her mouth to speak, Julius had popped his iPod headphones in his ears. Delilah’s expectant, jubilant smile had vanished instantly; he had no intention of speaking with her. She had needed to blink a few times before she leaned back in her seat.
Their friendship didn’t exist anymore.
During the mission, Delilah had tried to talk with him, but he always deflected her questions. Eventually, she gave up, realizing that there was no point anymore. For some reason, Julius had distanced himself from her.
The assignment had gone successfully, as always, but Delilah felt as if they had failed. She had walked as fast as she could to her room, fighting tears the whole way.
Once inside her room, she had cried out her frustrations for a few minutes. Afterwards, her eyes and thoughts had strayed to the bathroom. Making a split-second decision, she had risen to her feet. It seemed like the only thing to do … take out her pain, anger and forlornness.
Now, an hour later, she was ashamed.
She stared down at the object clutched in her hand. How could she do this? This wasn’t who she was! Disgusted with herself, she threw the razor to the ground. Covering her hands with her head, she sobbed harder, and rocked back and forth, humiliated. If only someone could see her now … what would they think of her?
This is pathetic, a voice sneered in her head. You are pathetic. If you’re so serious, just do it. You’re a waste of space as it is, so stop wasting time, you failure. No one cares.
There was a soft knock at the door. Delilah’s head shot up. Her heart began to hammer.
See what they think of you now! The voice spat.
The knock came again, harder this time.
What if it’s Julius? The voice asked. Then what? How will you explain this to him? Or what if it’s Scarlett? She will be angry with you for failing, Delilah. She will be disappointed. And Al – how do you think he will react? He might kick you out of the Academy, you know. It’s not like you don’t deserve it. What if it’s your father?
Delilah rose from her bed, trying to stifle the cutting voice in her head. She raced to the door and flung it open, before whoever it was could knock again. Her eyes widened with fear and dread. It was her father.
A last hurtful thought came from the voice: Will he even care?
Delilah’s heart pounded harder, painfully. Terror rose up inside her, along with the memories of their last meeting at night. She had to force herself to breathe.
“Ah, Delilah,” he said warmly, unaware. “I’m sorry if I woke you, but … well, I was a little worried about you while you were on the mission. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Relief flooded through her. He did care.
“No, Dad, you didn’t wake me,” she managed to croak.
Phineas peered closer at her. “Are you cr--” He stopped abruptly as he saw her face. “What … the … hell …?” he spluttered.
Instinctively, Delilah put a hand to her cheek. Pulling it away, she saw her palm was read. Understanding hit her like a mallet: blood was smeared across her face.
“Dad,” she forced, trying to keep the fright from her voice. “Dad, I can explain--”
“Did you get hurt?” Phineas demanded. “What happened to you?”
Her stomach twisted in to a knot. “I didn’t get hurt …”
A confused expression settled on his face. “Then what …?” He trailed off as she glanced down at her left arm. Fury filled his eyes; worry filled hers.
Without warning, he hit her. He struck her so hard that she fell backwards, landing on her back beside the bloody razor. Phineas moved towards her swiftly, his face a picture of rage.
“You mean to tell me you’re a cutter, Delilah?” he roared, dragging her up by her hair. “You’re angry with your life?” he shouted in her face, throwing her onto her bed. “You have no right to be angry!”
Delilah tried to run. She attempted to dive around him, but his hand grasped her injured wrist. He squeezed hard – harder still, when she cried out in pain. Yanking her upright, he beat her chest. She began to cry, and he punched her again.
“Stop it!” he howled, hurling her to the floor. “Stop crying! You have no right to shed tears, snivel like a child! You didn’t …” Suddenly, his voice was shaking with grief. “You didn’t watch your … your wife die …”
Phineas looked down at his daughter, the frenzy fading from his eyes. His voice was even as he spoke. “It’s just a phase,” he murmured, nodding towards her bleeding arm. “You’ll be okay, you’re fine.”
Quickly, he left the room.
Shaking with fear, Delilah crawled to her bed. How did she always manage to provoke her father, to bring out the worst in him?
Haven’t you noticed, worthless one? You bring out the worst in everyone. You’re a horrible, nasty person. How can you be so repulsive that you make your father want to hit you?
Tears streamed down Delilah’s face at the cruel words. It’s not true, she said to herself. It’s not true. Her eyes drifted to the razor on the floor. Horrified, she realized she was … tempted. Tempted to do it again.
Yes, do it! Try again. Try again until you succeed.
How silly, to think that only a few hours ago, Delilah had thought that today would be one of the better days in her life. After nearly two weeks of “relaxation” with her father, Al had finally decided to send the team on a mission. Delilah had been in raptures as she quickly packed her bag, grinning the whole time. She would finally get some alone time with Julius, so they could hopefully work out their problems. There had been no doubt in her mind that they would – they always did. As they had walked to the plane, Delilah had to force herself not to run and cry out with joy. But her euphoria was to be short lived.
As always, neither of them had talked as the plane had taken off. They usually liked to go over the mission in their mind for a few minutes, before settling in to casual chatter. Yet, when the seatbelt sign turned off, and just as Delilah had opened her mouth to speak, Julius had popped his iPod headphones in his ears. Delilah’s expectant, jubilant smile had vanished instantly; he had no intention of speaking with her. She had needed to blink a few times before she leaned back in her seat.
Their friendship didn’t exist anymore.
During the mission, Delilah had tried to talk with him, but he always deflected her questions. Eventually, she gave up, realizing that there was no point anymore. For some reason, Julius had distanced himself from her.
The assignment had gone successfully, as always, but Delilah felt as if they had failed. She had walked as fast as she could to her room, fighting tears the whole way.
Once inside her room, she had cried out her frustrations for a few minutes. Afterwards, her eyes and thoughts had strayed to the bathroom. Making a split-second decision, she had risen to her feet. It seemed like the only thing to do … take out her pain, anger and forlornness.
Now, an hour later, she was ashamed.
She stared down at the object clutched in her hand. How could she do this? This wasn’t who she was! Disgusted with herself, she threw the razor to the ground. Covering her hands with her head, she sobbed harder, and rocked back and forth, humiliated. If only someone could see her now … what would they think of her?
This is pathetic, a voice sneered in her head. You are pathetic. If you’re so serious, just do it. You’re a waste of space as it is, so stop wasting time, you failure. No one cares.
There was a soft knock at the door. Delilah’s head shot up. Her heart began to hammer.
See what they think of you now! The voice spat.
The knock came again, harder this time.
What if it’s Julius? The voice asked. Then what? How will you explain this to him? Or what if it’s Scarlett? She will be angry with you for failing, Delilah. She will be disappointed. And Al – how do you think he will react? He might kick you out of the Academy, you know. It’s not like you don’t deserve it. What if it’s your father?
Delilah rose from her bed, trying to stifle the cutting voice in her head. She raced to the door and flung it open, before whoever it was could knock again. Her eyes widened with fear and dread. It was her father.
A last hurtful thought came from the voice: Will he even care?
Delilah’s heart pounded harder, painfully. Terror rose up inside her, along with the memories of their last meeting at night. She had to force herself to breathe.
“Ah, Delilah,” he said warmly, unaware. “I’m sorry if I woke you, but … well, I was a little worried about you while you were on the mission. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Relief flooded through her. He did care.
“No, Dad, you didn’t wake me,” she managed to croak.
Phineas peered closer at her. “Are you cr--” He stopped abruptly as he saw her face. “What … the … hell …?” he spluttered.
Instinctively, Delilah put a hand to her cheek. Pulling it away, she saw her palm was read. Understanding hit her like a mallet: blood was smeared across her face.
“Dad,” she forced, trying to keep the fright from her voice. “Dad, I can explain--”
“Did you get hurt?” Phineas demanded. “What happened to you?”
Her stomach twisted in to a knot. “I didn’t get hurt …”
A confused expression settled on his face. “Then what …?” He trailed off as she glanced down at her left arm. Fury filled his eyes; worry filled hers.
Without warning, he hit her. He struck her so hard that she fell backwards, landing on her back beside the bloody razor. Phineas moved towards her swiftly, his face a picture of rage.
“You mean to tell me you’re a cutter, Delilah?” he roared, dragging her up by her hair. “You’re angry with your life?” he shouted in her face, throwing her onto her bed. “You have no right to be angry!”
Delilah tried to run. She attempted to dive around him, but his hand grasped her injured wrist. He squeezed hard – harder still, when she cried out in pain. Yanking her upright, he beat her chest. She began to cry, and he punched her again.
“Stop it!” he howled, hurling her to the floor. “Stop crying! You have no right to shed tears, snivel like a child! You didn’t …” Suddenly, his voice was shaking with grief. “You didn’t watch your … your wife die …”
Phineas looked down at his daughter, the frenzy fading from his eyes. His voice was even as he spoke. “It’s just a phase,” he murmured, nodding towards her bleeding arm. “You’ll be okay, you’re fine.”
Quickly, he left the room.
Shaking with fear, Delilah crawled to her bed. How did she always manage to provoke her father, to bring out the worst in him?
Haven’t you noticed, worthless one? You bring out the worst in everyone. You’re a horrible, nasty person. How can you be so repulsive that you make your father want to hit you?
Tears streamed down Delilah’s face at the cruel words. It’s not true, she said to herself. It’s not true. Her eyes drifted to the razor on the floor. Horrified, she realized she was … tempted. Tempted to do it again.
Yes, do it! Try again. Try again until you succeed.
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