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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2015 19:53:10 GMT
you're loosing your
Always in a rush, never stay on the phone long enough. Why am I so self-important? Said I see you soon, that was, oh, maybe a year ago. Didn't know time was of the essence. So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. As I drown, in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. I never said, I can't take back the words I never said. Always talking shit, took your advice and did the opposite, just being young and stupid. I haven't been all that you could have hoped for, oh but if you'd held on a little longer, you'd have had more reason to be proud.
Many a time had he closed his eyes and tried to recall how exactly the man looked his strangely prominent features, the darkly toned rim to his irises, the matted black hair atop his head, the dying light behind aquamarine irises, and yet each time he refocused is memory upon his odd facials, the retention of his face grew more blurred, and throughout each day spent within the distinct lack of the broken figure, he found himself slowly becoming less and less in tune with himself. As the memory of the man faded, the mongrel shifter followed, in the same manner he had always done. He'd long since lost himself in attempting to recover the mental image of the lost man, the constant overwhelmingly crushing fear of something happening to Gwen the only thing having kept him in the present world, his life only truly coming into focus alongside her. His mind had been handcrafted into an tunnel, for the further one would venture, the darker it would become, plagued beyond thoughts of inflicting exterior personal damage, each sick reminder that the man was gone taking him far over the line of self-hatred.
Everything reminded him of the man. Life had never hurt, not until he started to think about how things had changed, how many people he'd lost, and most of all, how much of it was his fault, for no matter how often the feminine made the effort to try to convince him that the occurrence could not have been prevented by the likes of the mongrel, the thought of selfblame stuck. Things could have been different. Quintin could have seen his two children in to the world, grown old alongside Gwen, lived happily for the first time within his life. He'd ruined everything the man had worked so hard for, destroyed the seams of every one of his hopes and dreams. Everything he had once loved had become everything he had lost; initially it was Vera, then it progressed to Quintin, and to top everything off, Cody was nowhere to be found.
Cody. The red wolf had been his only true escape from the hell he found himself trapped within, bound by the now dissipated presence of the dishevelled man. The cold realization that the wolf had long since vanished somehow was relived each waking moment, each passing second. Like a drug, he had become addicted to the one thing that somehow uprooted his pain, and caged within its absence, he was lost. Cody was a murderer, Cody had slaughtered Quintin in cold blood. Somehow, despite all the terrible things he wanted to say to the lupine shifter, everything he wanted to cry out, every bit of pain he wanted to inflict upon the wolf so that he might feel something similar to the grief of the mongrel, in the end, all he wanted to say was that he missed him. No matter how hard he tried to stick alongside another being, no matter how willing he was to defend the being with his life, he always seemed to be back where he started. Broken and alone.
He had been fully willing to relinquish his heart for the wolf, and that was all he could possibly give to anyone. He was sorry that he wasn't good enough... He never was. And yet, here he was again, time having stolen the chance to tell Cody about everything that went on inside his head. Truth be told he... He loved Cody. He truly did, and yet one again, time ridded him of any chance of expressing it. In the end, saying goodbye was a lot like finding love; one had to learn to say goodbye to the one who gave the courage to say hello. However, there had been no form of goodbye. There was no sign. No signal. The wolf was just... Gone, the world proceeded as if nothing had ever occurred. He'd tried to tell himself that the wolf would come back when he called, and that there was no need to say goodbye. But no words, no thoughts, were warm enough to bar away the cold reality. There were things in life that we don't want to happen but we have to accept, things we don't want to know but learn, and people we can't live without and yet had to let go; he supposed that life became an act of letting go, though what hurt the most was not taking even a moment, a second, to say goodbye. Was he not worth that much? Did he not mean anything? Did the thought of the mongrel relying on the wolf not deter him from venturing away? Everything he knew was slipping from his fingers and he hadn't the slightest clue how to halt life's endeavour to make his own a living hell.
Lilly didn't know. It was a fact he constantly thought about during the course of countless hours spent in pointless grief. In having taken the man's phone with him, the mongrel had witnessed her calls many a time, never once having taken them, far too caught up in the bleary ring spearing its way through the silence to acknowledge her number appearing upon the screen. He wanted her to know... He simply didn't want to be the one to tell her. Though who else was there to perform such a task? Aside from Gwen, nobody had cared for Quintin, and she likely had no knowledge of Lilly. And in spite of not quite being to the same extent of the dishevelled man, he honestly believed Lilly deserved the best; she deserved to know. She had to. He wanted her to know that there was someone out there that cared, and that there was always hope... He wanted her to know everything that he had forgotten. He didn't want her to get stuck in the same hell as him.
Hence, he had managed to drag himself out of the house, protruding ribcage, mottled red and black eye rims, matted hair and all, avoiding the disapproving eyes of various passers-by, until he arrived upon her doorstep. A slow breath rattled from his lungs, his hand hovering near the door, though somehow unable to make any form of noise. His quaking breaths, quickening heartrate, and shaking limbs clearly signalled his fright, deep regret setting in his chest for even setting foot out of the house. Why the hell had he thought he could do this? On the verge of turning round, his irises clenched shut, and his knuckles rapped across the door, each sound embedding his rue deeper into his heart, his inevitable lament unprepared. "Fuck..." he murmured in advance, each shuddered breath raking through his lungs becoming all the more apparent with each second he stood.
So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. But I know that you can't hear me anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. And as I drown in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. The longer I stand here, the louder the silence, I know that you're gone, but sometimes I swear that I hear, your voice when the wind blows. So I talk to the shadows, hoping that you might be listening, 'cos I want you to know that it's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said, I never said. I never said. I can't take back the words I never said, I never said.
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Post by Lilly Starbroke Pierce on Apr 18, 2015 22:57:57 GMT
WHAT'S WRONG NOW, WHAT'S WRONG NOW, TOO MANY, TOO MANY PROBLEMS nobody's home THAT'S WHERE SHE LIES, BROKEN INSIDE. NOWHERE TO DRY HER EYES. Just when everything had begun to become better... it just turned worst. It was no news for everybody... that what had happened was going to happen. She was going to have her child, the one she had protected, had endured hell with. To only have it dead in her arms, born without a beating heart, cold and lifeless. It's eyes weren't even open and she had known that the life was drained from it. How could something so innocent and precious lay there in her arms dead? She had, at one point, wanted it gone so that she wouldn't have the possibility of Emmett leaving her. But now she regretted it. She wanted the child. It was a sign of hope. A sign that everybody had a second chance. Then it was crushed as it just got into her grasp. It left her too soon... the poor child. The baby that nobody wanted nor could care any less for. It was hers. She loved it with every broken bit of her heart. And what had the world done to it? It had broken it. Destroyed the light that could be her savior. She was lost, she didn't no where to turn, not even if she was going to recover from this. Could she take any more of life's hits? Could she drive herself through the endless road of darkness and despair any longer? How long would she hold out until her sanity gave way? Was this how she was going to keep living her life as if it was worst than hell?
And to make it worst, her best friend was gone. Cody had disappeared and she didn't know where he was. The support she had always wished for was gone. The light he brought had diminished into the darkness. She didn't know where he had gone or even if he was alive, because she sure as hell wasn't, or at least on the inside. The ground underneath her had begun to crumble again, the tears once more staining her face as she sat on the couch, staring at her hands. Her lithe frame quiver and shook with grief, panic, worry, shock. Why? Why was this the life she was given? She never asked for this... she never wanted this. This was no life to lead if your heart felt dead.. to cracked to mend. Her mind was no better. Was it so bad to say that her eyes hurt from all the crying? That her heart was so numb because of the pain? That the pounding in her head from wailing had become normal? Fingers curled to her palms as her chest heaved heavily and shakily, breathing becoming a labor. She couldn't find the motivation.... couldn't find the strength. She couldn't find anybody nor anything to do anything. She couldn't think... couldn't speak. It was so hard to move and yet controlling her shaking was even harder. And the worst part was knowing... that this was all her fault.
She had cut herself in the first place. She had torn into her stomach while she was pregnant just to make sure she had a reminder of what she was. She had tore her arms until the blood was dry on her skin and it was numb. She hadn't eaten, deprived herself of necessities to teach herself a lesson as if each punishment after another wasn't enough to tell herself that she was a monster and that there was no emotion that could even begin compare to how she should be hated. Not to mention she had ignored Cody... she had relied on him when she needed it but neglected him when he needed it the most and now he was gone. Time had gone too fast and she was too damn stupid to ever get her shit together and actually do anything for anybody. Now she sat alone.... there was no giggle of a child. The twins were old enough to go to school and Emmett was already at work. The only sounds that filled the house was the noise of her pets snoring softly, their quiet breathing reaching to her ears as they pierced her mind. And then there it was.
A knock at the door made her jump, skin prickling with surprise as muscles tensed beneath her flesh. Bronze eyes jumped to the wooden frame, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Wiping the stains and droplets off her facial features, she shakily got up and stumbled over to the door. Slowly opening it, there stood an unfamiliar man. He was bony, with matted hair, and blood-shot eyes. She pulled her head back a little in surprise before clearing her throat. "U-Urhm... h-hello... w-what can I do for you?.." The woman shakily greeted, fighting back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat. She couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop remembering what she had done. That everything she did would backfire in her face.
She was a monster. This was all her fault. Just like everything ever was these days. She couldn't find the pieces to her mind and heart. She couldn't find her sanity nor any emotion except pain and regret, guilt and depression. She didn't know where everything turned bad. Where the beast inside had come from. When had her heart grown from shadows and darkness? How had she become the thing she hated most? She had killed her own child... she had drove away one of the most important person in her life. She was no better than a beast.. unintentional or not. She was ruining everything in her life that she had wanted for so long. How could anybody even love her when she couldn't even love herself? She hated herself for what she had done... Scared of what more she could do to drive herself down the drain. But it was unavoidable. Just like the insanity creeping onto her mind, threatening to take hold of her, just as it had always done. |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2015 19:19:40 GMT
YOU'RE LOOSING YOUR
Always in a rush, never stay on the phone long enough. Why am I so self-important? Said I see you soon, that was, oh, maybe a year ago. Didn't know time was of the essence. So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. As I drown, in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. I never said, I can't take back the words I never said. Always talking shit, took your advice and did the opposite, just being young and stupid. I haven't been all that you could have hoped for, oh but if you'd held on a little longer, you'd have had more reason to be proud.
Perhaps one day he'd forget the hurt, the reason for his grief, the impending sorrow within his chest, and those that had forgotten him long before he had them. Perhaps he'd set the notion that the secret of being free was not revenge, but allowing things to unfold in their own time within his mind once again. After all, what mattered most was not the first, though instead the final chapter of one being's life, which would ultimately unveil how well one ran the race. Perhaps he'd smile, laugh, forgive, believe and love all over again. But today was undoubtedly not that day. The violently bare features of the dishevelled man he had once known so well, rendered lifeless by his cruel fate, had long since cracked his ribs, and there was a reason ribs were recognised as cages; his heart was permanently trapped, the faintly thrumming beats growing only more unobtrusive. He had so many thoughts racing through his skull, darkness seemingly permanently embedded within the depths of his mind, that always appear to simply be left unsaid. The brief moments of which he sought to open his mouth, there was nobody left within the remnants of his crumbling world to hear. The demons ran constantly in circles, chasing each other round the confines of his head until they destroyed every trace of love and compassion he once wielded. Perhaps the worst part of it all was that he didn't care, not anymore; he didn't have the spirit left to pick up the shattered fragments, only able to watch as everything he had once known fell apart. He didn't want to do it, he didn't want to live, he no longer desired to breathe... But he had to, if only for the sake of Gwen, of the children. For Quintin.
Crimson irises, long since rendered lifeless aside from the relentless sorrow thriving within them, surveyed the bland wooden entryway in silence; the expression inscribed upon his facials was meek, like that of a dog frequently beaten and badly fed. His limbs faintly trembled, and once more, he found himself wondering why exactly he had been left among the shattering remnants of his former life, and why the cruel world had not sought to take his existence at such a point. His mind drifted back to the things he'd done, the people he'd harmed, the lives he'd ruined. He'd murdered, he'd stole, he'd cannibalized, he'd killed without thought or mercy, merely thinking of himself and his own pitiful, insignificant revenge that bore no meaning to him at this point. And for what? He'd killed. A low sound left the man, a keen or a whine one could not tell, though it was certainly there, freshly toned with grief and downtrodden emotion. Like a weight was suddenly chained upon him, he was once more forced under grief's tide. Pulled and sucked into it's unyielding grip, burying him within it's depths, the darkness crushing him. Whatever gods were willing to listen to him, he was sorry... And abruptly, his mind cascaded into cursing every god he could name, everyone he once knew, everything he'd lost, and most of all, cursing himself. His pathetic, useless, worthless, murderous self. One hand shifted slowly to rest upon his faintly thumping heart... There it was. Beating as always. From the moment he had been born, onwards, it was always there. It once was of an imminent, accessible comfort, to acknowledge the life that remained beating beneath his chest, though now it did nothing more than mock his very existence. What was the point in truly living if nobody would care to notice he was gone?
However, his thoughts, thickly entwined with darkness and doubt alike, fleeted promptly to the back of his skull upon the feminine's facials appearing, the faint flutter of familiarity making itself known within his chest. Though, suddenly, such a notion was lost, his skin suddenly feeling as if set alight, crimson hued gaze loosening its grip upon her equally sorrow stricken facials, the woman evidently having plenty enough on her mind without having to think about-... The broken man flinched slightly upon apparent surprise, swallowing roughly, ignoring the faint pain and rawness felt within his throat. "L-Lilly?" he mumbled near inaudibly, and though fully recognising her face, he somehow found himself craving for conformation, no longer trusting his own judgement. Was she just another illusion of his leaden mind? A struggled huff left him, the trembling of his limbs increasing as he stood before the woman, attempting to find the correct words. "I... I know y-you don't k-know w-who... I a-am..." His eyes fought their way back upwards, their faintly watered surfaces fleeting to her facials with a trace of reluctance. For a good few moments he paused, before abruptly blurting out his words, "I-I'm Archaic... The-... The dog, uhrm..." How exactly was he supposed to preach matters of his existence to the woman? How was he supposed to explain generations upon generations of species to her, when she might wield no knowledge of their existence in the first place? She knew Cody, perhaps she knew of shifters... Once more his gaze fell away from her, evidently panicked, whatever muscles remained tensing beneath pale skin. "Y-you p-probably think I-I'm c-crazy... I k-know..." Most people do. His actions grew all the more cumbersome, awkwardly shuffling his feet for a brief moment, wanting nothing more than to be out of the situation at hand.
And, suddenly, his mind completely took over, his self blame and hatred racing forward in once violent surge. "... I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I fucked up, and I can't fix it, not this time. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough, that I always end up h-harming everyone around me. I'm sorry t-that I didn't get there i-in time, I'm s-sorry I w-wasn't there when I s-swore to h-him t-that I would b-be... I-I.... J-just... Q-Quintin, h-he..." His voice wavered as his speech went on, the desperate urgency causing the words to come far too quickly for him to think about what he was saying. His eyes once again clenched shut in effort to battle away the lining of tears. Fucking hell, he was so sick of saying that he was sorry, when he was the one suffering, the one collapsed upon the floor with his heart and lungs threatening to constantly burst from his chest. He couldn't help it. It was his fault... All his fault... "P-please..." Make it stop, make it all end. I beg of you... "J-just... I-..." Though his mouth wouldn't allow the words to slip through his mouth, words he desperately wanted to say, hopeless enough to resort to being precariously close to blurting them out to a woman who would consider him nothing more than a stranger... This really wasn't going as he had formerly anticipated. Though what had he expected of himself? He wasn't good enough, he wasn't worth the time he was wasting. "W-we need to t-talk..."
So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. But I know that you can't hear me anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. And as I drown in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. The longer I stand here, the louder the silence, I know that you're gone, but sometimes I swear that I hear, your voice when the wind blows. So I talk to the shadows, hoping that you might be listening, 'cos I want you to know that it's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said, I never said. I never said. I can't take back the words I never said, I never said.
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Post by Lilly Starbroke Pierce on May 3, 2015 20:45:47 GMT
WHAT'S WRONG NOW, WHAT'S WRONG NOW, TOO MANY, TOO MANY PROBLEMS nobody's home THAT'S WHERE SHE LIES, BROKEN INSIDE. NOWHERE TO DRY HER EYES. It wasn't that she was weak (which she was, or at leas she thought she was), or that she life couldn't stop torturing her. But it was the fact that she had lost faith. Lost hope for a second chance. She had no self confidence, for whenever she looked in the mirror she couldn't see what others saw. She couldn't see the beauty or the innocence. She saw the guilty monster for what she thought she truly was. She knew she deserved this all. That this was all her fault... And to make everything worst, she had to bring everybody down with her. Emmett had to go through with living with an unstable fiancé who couldn't stop bitching and crying, having to bring that pain to him. Her children had to grow up knowing that their mother was crying... that she was dying inside. That she felt so broken that she could fade away at any moment... She couldn't choose what stayed and what faded away. It wasn't a revelation that she thought that nothing was ever going to get better, because it felt like it wasn't. She almost lost Emmett once, what if she lost him again? What if she had already lost him? Through the tears and the darkness she could never seem to find his face... never seem to fully get the picture of him. Her family was what kept her going... what made her get up in the morning just to let them know that they wouldn't lose her... even if she had already lost herself within the despair and grief.
Maybe things would never change. Maybe she would never recover... God, maybe was all she hoped for anymore! Why had life put this upon her? She never asked for this. She never wanted this. Why should she get the cruel and brunt of life? Why should she suffer? Why does everybody that hurt her get to go off without a scratch?... But that was just her being selfish. Denying that she didn't deserve any of this when she knew this was all her fault. She had caused people too much pain, put too many problems onto them. Now she had to face them alone in fear of making people worry... about her. About somebody who was already dead. She would never get better. Nothing would. So why should she let them spend their time worrying about her? She was a lost cause... she didn't want people to hurt. Didn't want to inflict her wounds and scars onto them. She deserved this. This was her fault. She dug her own grave. She had to fight her own battles... This was the hell she was meant to burn in. And she had to accept it.
Putting up her walls was all she was good at. She didn't mean to block everybody out... but people had different ways of grieving.. of coping with what has happened. And hers was... it was selfish. She couldn't stop it though. It was the only way she knew how. She wanted to protect herself from anymore pain... but she knew that people worried about her. Feared for her. As if she'd ever leave when she felt as if she was already fading away into the darkness, slowly but surely. Emmett... god he had to worry about her. What if he felt guilty because he left her at home? What fair was that to him? She couldn't grieve.. she just couldn't. She might of been losing her mind, or falling behind from what could be her happiness, but she couldn't let him feel guilt and regret when the only person who should feel it was her. She should of known this was coming. She was so weak.. so weak. Had she not gotten herself kidnapped she wouldn't be so damaged... and maybe then she wouldn't be grieving. She wouldn't of gotten pregnant because her mind was so unstable. She wouldn't of had that stillborn and she wouldn't be in despair. She wouldn't be feeling her heart bleeding onto the floor, and she wouldn't have her loved ones worry for her... she didn't want them to. She didn't want them to want to help her because of her own problems that she caused to herself. It wasn't that she didn't want them to care... she didn't want them to hurt.
She stared at the red and bloodshot eyes, making her eyebrows curve upwards. Who was this man? Was he seeking for help? If so it seemed they had something in common. She could see the almost dullness behind the glassy reflection of his gaze, sadness and despair clear and evident in his own eyes. However he flinched away from her, making her shuffle a bit backwards in fear she had scared him. "L-Lilly?"... She knew that voice. She had heard it telepathically many times. Had heard the harsh thoughts of humanity when she would hang around Quintin. Her eyes widened slightly, fingers gripping around the side of the door. "A..Ar..." She tried to say his name, but her throat tightened. She couldn't finish it, she never could. Her eyes swept downwards to his trembling frame, the skin along his arms quivering and coiling. "I... I know y-you don't k-know w-who... I a-am..." He sounded so much like Quintin. The shaking words as they rolled out of his mouth, the uneven and shaggy black hair. Her bronze gaze watched as tears formed in his eyes, making her heart (or what was left of it) clench with the need to comfort him. "I-I'm Archaic... The-... The dog, urhm..." She slowly nodded. "I-I... I kno-ow who y-you are..." She whispered, voice hoarse from the wailing and the sobbing that had bellowed from her throat for so long. His frame went rigid as he dropped his eyes to the ground. "Y-You p-probably think I-I'm c-crazy... I k-know..." She shook her head. "N-No... I-I know y-you. I-I don't think y-you're c-crazy.." "Most people do." She swallowed down the urge to hold him, to hug him, to want to let his trouble melt away. Nobody should ever have to feel that nobody was around to help them... if only she could listen to her own advice. She watched as he moved and shuffled around, making a lump form in the middle of her throat.
"...I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I fucked up, and I can't fix it, not this time. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough, that I always end up h-harming everyone around me. I'm sorry t-that I didn't get there i-in time, I'm sorry I w-wasn't there when I s-swore to h-him that I would b-be..." Her eyes widened once more before walking to him and putting her hands up to his shoulders, squeezing them in an effort to calm him down. She craned her head so she could look at his saddened facial features. "Shhhh... A-Archaic just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong." She softly cooed in a nurturing and motherly manner, the need to protect him kicking her in the gut. "I-I... J-Just... Q-Quintin, h-he.." Slowly, tears began to form in her eyes, making them glossy and shiny. "W-What about him?.." She echoed, the image of the innocent and frail man seeping into her mind. Her thumbs reached up to wipe away the tears at the corner of his eye lids. "T-Take your time, Archaic.." She murmured, heart pounding against her chest. What had happened to her best friend? Where was he? Was he hurt? What happened? "P-Please... Make it stop, make it end. I beg of you..." Her frown deepened on her lips, the corners of the skin pushing downwards. "I cannot end your pain... but I can help. Let me help, Archaic..." She murmured to the grieving man. "Let me help.." She echoed before her hand slip to grip his own in a comforting manner. "J-Just... I-... W-We need to t-talk..." She nodded her lean skull before leading him inside the dimly-lit house. The woman lead him to the couch to allow him to sit down, settling down next to him, still holding his hand as if she were his mother. "You're... Y-You're so thin..." She looked to the rib-cages poking out from underneath his shirt. "I-I.. I'll get you something to eat." Lilly stated before getting up and heading to the fridge to rummage through the food they kept. There was some left over chicken.. she could offer that to him? Putting it in the microwave, she heated it up before grabbing a box of tissues and handing it to her companion. "We don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to... I want you to eat..." |
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2015 16:05:38 GMT
you're loosing your
Always in a rush, never stay on the phone long enough. Why am I so self-important? Said I see you soon, that was, oh, maybe a year ago. Didn't know time was of the essence. So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. As I drown, in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. I never said, I can't take back the words I never said. Always talking shit, took your advice and did the opposite, just being young and stupid. I haven't been all that you could have hoped for, oh but if you'd held on a little longer, you'd have had more reason to be proud.
The melancholy invaded his mind many a time, at what intervals he was not aware, slowly shrouding the sky a mottled, despondent grey. It began with only an unrest within his faintly throbbing heart, a premonition of anxiety, a forthcoming of despair. People, houses, colours and sounds become dubious, false. At such times, having to converse with people was torture, immediately leading to scenes... Anger, suffering, and complaints were directed at everything; at people, at animals, at the weather, at every God he could name, regardless of whether he believed in them or not, at the paper in the books he occasionally read, at the material of the very clothing he had on. But anger, impatience, complaints and hatred bore no effect on such things, deflected from everything, rebounding back to him. He would so often simply lay in the bedroom, a privilege he had been granted since acknowledgement of his existence among mankind, with the curtains drawn and nothingness washing over him within a deep, sluggish wave.
It would become a difficult task even to talk when one wanted no more than to erase your existence. That was above and beyond everything else; it wasn't a mental complaint, but a physical pain. It had become hard to open his mouth and make the words come out. They didn't come out smooth and in conjunction with his brain the way normal people's words would; they came out in chunks, as if from a crushed-ice dispenser. He merely stumbled upon them as they gathered behind his lower lip. So you just keep quiet. He suffered alone, secluding himself from others. Everything he had loved had brought not only him pain, though pain to those around him. It was as if his heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually only be a little contentment. Everyone wanted him to get help, to re-join life, pick up the pieces and move on, and he tried to, he wanted to, but all he could do was lay in the mud with his arms wrapped around himself, eyes closed, grieving, until he didn’t have to anymore. At heart, he had always been a coper, so to speak, for he'd mostly been able to walk around with his wounds safely concealed, and he'd always stored up his deep depressive episodes for the weeks off when there was time to have an abbreviated version of a complete breakdown. But in the end, he'd always been able to get up and on with it, could always have done what little must be done to scratch by. Though, in the past few months, he'd had everything he once knew torn from beneath his feet, thrown into a whole new situation that was far from his comfort zone. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself anymore. If there was one thing set firmly in his mind, however, it was the fact that he needed to carry on what Quintin had started. He'd keep Lilly safe if it was the last thing he did, he'd put himself in harms way for her without hesitation. And, he had to be the one that told her of the dishevelled man's death, regardless of how much the notion stung his chest and burnt his heart. Somebody needed to tell her. She had the right to know. She deserved to.
Some catastrophic moments invited clarity within this world, exploding in split moments. One smashed their hand through a windowpane and then there was blood and shattered glass stained with red all over the place; one fell from a window and broke some bones and scraped some skin. Stitches and casts and bandages and antiseptic solve and salve the wounds. But depression was not a sudden disaster. It was more like a cancer: At first its tumorous mass wasn't even noticeable to the careful eye, and then one day, there was a huge, deadly seven-pound lump lodged within one's brain or one's stomach or one's shoulder blade, and something that their own body had produced was trying to kill them. Depression was plenty as such; slowly, over the years, the data accumulated within one's heart and mind, a computer program for total negativity building within the system, causing life to become more and more unbearable. Though it was never to be noticed coming on, one believing it somewhat normal, something about getting older, about turning eight or turning fifteen or turning twenty, and then one day one realized that their entire life was awful, not worth living, a horror and a black blot on the white terrain of human existence. One morning one awoke afraid they were going to live.
In his case, he was not frightened in the least bit at the thought that he might live because he was certain, quite certain, that he was already dead. The actual dying part, the withering away of his physical body, was a mere formality. His spirit, his emotional being, whatever one wanted to call all that inner turmoil that had nothing to do with physical existence, was long gone, dead and gone, and only a mass of the most fucking god-awful excruciating pain like a pair of boiling hot tongs clamped tight around his spine and pressing on all his nerves was left in its wake. But she needed to know... She deserved to. She had to. He was constantly forced to remind himself, bleary eyes staring down at the terrain below their feet, each breath bringing forth a whole new wave of pain, searing it's way through his lungs. He shook violently beneath her inquisitive, yet sorrowful, pitiful gaze, unable to bring himself to meet it. Her hushed stuttering at the beginnings of his name, however, drew an acknowledging, perhaps even the faintest bit hopeful, gaze from him, swallowing against the lump within his throat. Perhaps she already knew... Though with the desire to ensure she did, he proceeded with his stuttered words. Nonetheless, her words promptly confirmed the fact that she recognised him, or at least, his vocals; regardless of such a fact, a faint frown formed upon his features at how hoarse her own voice was. She'd been crying, he could tell that. The inflamed puffiness of the skin around her eyes, a trace of violent red against her skin, the attempt to wipe away the traces of wetness having failed for the most part, faint tear streaks still visible. She was already in so much pain... Fuck, why did he have to be the one to cause her more inevitable grief? Her disagreement regarding his proclaimed craze had him awkwardly shuffling his feet once again, briefly dragging a hand across his facials.
The stuttered, panicked words came long before he could halt them, trailing from his mouth with a desperate lack of monotone, vocals frantically wavering in a moment of extreme vulnerability. Her unexpected touch had his frame flinching once again, as if afraid of being struck by the woman, though as his gaze met her own, coiled muscles relaxed, if only slightly. There was such sincerity within her orbs, such a softness within her voice. A slow, quaking breath left the man, clamping his mouth shut in the fear of blurting something else unexpected out. As soon as the notion about Quintin left him, however, he saw the wetness welling within those brown hues, causing his own gaze to fall guiltily back towards the ground, internally shrouded with a sense of inconsolability, the wretched melancholia plaguing his thoughts and heart alike. He couldn't do it... He wasn't strong enough to... But he had to, for Quintin's sake. For Lilly's sake. "I-I'm s-sorry..." his words were accompanied by an odd whine, influenced by that of his canid counterpart, "I'm s-sorry... T-this isn't the k-kind o-of crap you n-need right n-now... A-and..." He saw the sadness in her eyes and didn't know what to say. He couldn't think of anything to say that would take her pain away, regardless of whether or not he had caused it. Troubled thoughts plagued his mind, briefly having disregarded the fact of what she was, of what she was capable of, that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He winced as she acknowledged it, though as his gaze sought to meet her own glassy one once more, the sincerity within them had him enraptured. He wanted to let her help... He wanted to be dragged from the wreck he'd found himself in. But he'd hurt her. He'd hurt her like he had everyone else. He'd drive her away, he'd end up causing her to abandon him like a lost cause. His gaze faltered as her hand clasped his own, a shuddered breath slipping from his mouth, bearing witness to the sight of the entwined limbs. He even managed to force the faintest trace of a smile, giving her hand a light squeeze, in effort to be slightly reassuring at least. But, his apparent momentarily contentment faded quickly. How the hell was he supposed to tell her? How was he supposed to break the news to the feminine without breaking her further? He didn't care for his own wellbeing, he just wanted her to remain at least content. Was there some way to tell her that wouldn't cause her additional pain? Fuck, this wasn't what she needed right now, he knew that.
With faint reluctance, the man slowly sought to follow the woman inside, forcing himself after her with what little motivation he could gather. His mind continued to reel with scenarios regarding his lament, a disgruntled huff heaving through his lungs, allowing his weakened frame to be lead to the couch, hesitantly seating himself there and observing her as she did the same. Glassy crimson irises surveyed her facials carefully, his expression painfully wide open, the silence between them defeating. His mouth briefly opened as if to say something, though quickly clamped shut again, burying his features in the hand she wasn't holding, eyes closing briefly. This was a terrible idea... Why the hell did I think I could do this...? As she commented on his thinned state, his jaw clenched in acknowledgement, hardly needing to glance down to know what a state he was in. He could always feel hunger carving at his innards, though he only wielded the motivation to satisfy it when he was on his last legs, driven only by natural self preservation instincts. When she stated that she'd get him something, a faint panic fluttered within his chest for god knows what reason, his eyes reopening, though only transfixing upon the wall ahead of him. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't necessary. He wanted to just tell her why the hell he was here and be done with it. But it wasn't that simple... It never was. So he could only let her walk off into the kitchen, ignoring the sound of the microwave and the faint scent of chicken, long since having lost tune with his once heightened senses.
His eyes faltered and cast over to the woman upon her return, fighting back an irritated huff, if only to his own lack of motivation to ingest something. He didn't want to eat, however much he required it. He didn't know what the hell the box of white paper was she handed to him, though he set it down upon the table, as he did the plate. "I... N-no... It's better if I j-just-..." A slow, uncomfortable breath left the man, heaving his thinned sides, driving pain through his throat and lungs alike. "Okay... U-uh..." Despite having thought long hours on how exactly to soften the blow, he found no way around the inevitable sorrow the notion would cause. Lilly and Quintin were close, he knew that. He just... He didn't want it to destroy Lilly like it did him, he didn't want her to become stuck in the same hell as he. "I t-told Q-Quintin... About w-what I was, what exists i-in this place, about... About C-cody..." His words noticeably faltered upon the mention of his former best friend, flinching at the thought of the brown furred wolf, before proceeding. "H-he... Didn't t-take it well o-or... Not like I expected h-him to, a-and... He l-left. To the woods." The vivid image was still caught within his mind, the dejection as the man-turned-beast twisted away from him, trust broken. "C-cody... Cody w-was there... A-and..." His throat suddenly tightened, tears gathering within his eyes once again. They wasted no time streaking down his facials, prompting him to twist his head downwards, swallowing down his guilt to finish the story. "H-he... H-he a-attacked Quintin..." Panic swept back through him, the same emotion that had flooded him as the scent of blood shrouded the air, the blood of Quintin. "I w-wasn't t-there... B-but I t-tried to be, a-as soon I c-could smell the b-blood..." His eyes twisted back upwards, meeting her own bronze irises, his quaking returning, what little muscles he still had tensing beneath pale flesh, sincerity clouding his vocals, "I'm s-so s-sorry... L-Lilly... I w-wasn't-..." Guilt shrouded his gaze, along with uncontrollable sorrow. "I w-wasn't q-quick enough..."
So many questions, but I'm talking to myself. I know that you can't hear me anymore, not anymore. So much to tell you, and most of all goodbye. But I know that you can't hear me anymore. It's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said. And as I drown in my regrets, I can't take back the words I never said. The longer I stand here, the louder the silence, I know that you're gone, but sometimes I swear that I hear, your voice when the wind blows. So I talk to the shadows, hoping that you might be listening, 'cos I want you to know that it's so loud, inside my head, with words that I should have said, I never said. I never said. I can't take back the words I never said, I never said.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 |
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Lilly Starbroke Pierce
Manipulator
Posts: 54
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App: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/58/lilly-hoovai-cottnip
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Post by Lilly Starbroke Pierce on May 17, 2015 18:40:49 GMT
WHAT'S WRONG NOW, WHAT'S WRONG NOW, TOO MANY, TOO MANY PROBLEMS nobody's home THAT'S WHERE SHE LIES, BROKEN INSIDE. NOWHERE TO DRY HER EYES. Perhaps losing faith and losing the path made her lost. Perhaps the tears would always stay, her voice would always lose its happiness, her eyes lose the light that she once held so close. How she could of ever dream to fly so close to the sun to get burned in the process was beyond her comprehension. She was a lost cause, a broken heart. A broken soul for a broken mind, like the clouds were to the rain. As if any rain could amount to the pain and sorrow everything had brought to her. There was nothing but grief now. Agony, like fire tearing through her, and leaving her to ashes. A lie was prettier than the truth, and hiding her emotions was what she knew best... It exploded inside sure but... it kept everybody from knowing the truth. From knowing just what little was left of her sanity. They shouldn't worry about her... she didn't deserve to have them go out of their way to help her. This was her battle, she caused this, she deserved this. Nobody.. Nobody had to help her. They shouldn't. Especially not anybody that could get caught in the crossfire, that could take her pain, but leave the scars to burn. Nobody could save her. Not from herself....
She blinked away the tears, trying not to let Archaic see them. This was obviously hard for him to say too, she couldn't make it harder on him by being the weakling she was. "I-I'm s-sorry..." She listened to the soft whine that rolled through his throat, her hand gripping his sympathetically. "I'm s-sorry... T-This isn't the k-kind o-of crap you n-need right n-now... a-and..." The woman offered a soft smile, squeezing his palm. "Shhh.. it's okay. I'm fine. I'm okay, i'm just really... really jumbled up right now." Her voice was light hearted, ignoring the stinging in her eyes from the need to cry. She listened to the shaky breathing that rolled off his tongue, making a small part of her crack, fingers curling in the gaps between his own. "You mean so much to me... You're my friend, and I would never trade anything for the friendship we have..." Her voice was murmur and empathetic, knowing that when she was in depression, when she had first been traumatized that all she wanted to know was that she had somebody. Anybody to just be there for her... Cody had....
Oh god. The moment of realization came crashing back on her, making her eyes widen slightly with fear. Cody... oh god. Her cody, her beloved best friend, her companion, the shifter that stayed with her through everything was gone.... she... she had lost him. Forever. She.. her own emotions had made her neglect him. How could she do that to him? She had promised him a home where he would be accepted and she couldn't even keep that. The lovable man wasn't with her anymore, he wasn't by her side when she needed him. And yet, she deserved it. She had been so selfish as to think that letting her emotions take her over would get her anywhere. Cody had told her that her children needed their mother, and god damn it she was going to make sure that would happen.
But, focusing on the task at hand, she lead the shifter inside and sat him on the couch. "I... N-NO... it's better if I j-just... Okay.. u-uh... I t-told Q-Quintin.. about w-what I was, what exists i-in this place,a bout.. about C-Cody... H-He... didn't t-take it well o-or... Not like I expected h-him to, a-and... he l-left. To the woods. C-Cody... Cody w-was there... A-And... H-He... H-He a-attacked Quintin... I w-wasn't t-there... B-But I t-tried to be, a-as soon as I c-could smell the b-blood. I'm s-so s-sorry... L-Lilly... I w-wasn't... I w-wasn't q-quick enough..." She listened intently, fighting back that tears. But eventually every dam had to break. Tears flowed down her cheeks freely, her muscles tensed, un-moving as she sat there. Her... Her Quintin he... he was.. dead? And it was because of... Cody? Fingers curled to her palm as she stared at him in disbelief. Her heart shattered within her beating chest. God dammit she didn't want to live... she didn't want to be here... she didn't want to be in this hellhole anymore. Her best friend... he was gone forever....
The woman could see his body, floating downstream through the rushing currents. Eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began running on the bank to pick up speed and pace. Wide, terrified gaze stared ahead before leaping into the river, plunging below the surface into the deathly cold waters. Muscles stiffened as the dropping temperatures gripped her body. She pushed through the water, breaking free as she fought her aching lungs to gasp for breath. "Quintin!" She called his name before outstretching a hand to him. "W-Why?" Tears flowed from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. "Because I care about you. You're my friend. You asked for my help.... Who am I to deny you that?"
Fighting the sob that threatened to wrack her frame, she kept still and wiped the tears from her face before wrapping her arms around Archaic. "Oh god... A-Archaic... i'm so sorry you had to go through that... So sorry you had to deal with that.... You... You and him were almost inseparable.... and I... jesus, Archaic..." She wept, not for herself, but for Archaic. For Quintin. And how they had been in pain and Archaic still was. "This wasn't your fault.. it never is Archaic. Everything you did, everything you said and thought, was for him. He may be gone, but he's still with us. I can promise you that." She murmured sweetly as her hands cupped his cheeks, her eyes damp and blood shot from the tears, her head pounding from listening to herself break inside, underneath deaf ears. |
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