BBS Oneshots

Tears (Brohm)

The tears rolled down his face as he sat with his knees up to his chest, hazel eyes dark with pain. He didn't try to wipe them away, feeling the wetness drip off of his chin and onto his hands, but not bothering with cleaning the familiar sadness off.

They rolled down his cheeks, leaving trails behind, trails that led straight to his eyes, eyes that had seen more than the average person, more than the most pained of people.

He faced the wall, his eyes unblinking as the crying continued. A single sob was torn from his throat as he thought.

His thoughts.

He didn't like to go over them often. Sometimes they were dark and intense, and in those times he couldn't stop himself from crying, because the tears came against his will as memories and thoughts coursed throughout his mind, flooding his sanity.

Memories he didn't want to keep reliving. He knew what he had done, he had his regrets. He didn't need his mind to keep reminding him over and over again what a monster he was.

And the thoughts. The damn thoughts. Dark thoughts that only a psychopath would ever think, but somehow, Ryan was thinking them on a regular basis.

They threatened his entire being, those thoughts and memories. But what could he do about them?

Nothing.

They kept coming back, no matter how many times he buried them down. How many times he tried to forget, how many times he pushed them away.

But you can't forget things like that. He had been told. Did he listen? No. But now he knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at a random spot on the wall, concentrating on ridding himself of his pain.

It was what Ryan always did when he was in this state, this terrifying, weak state. He would stare at the wall, chanting words like a mantra that would eventually push his demons back, at least for a little while.

So he sat there, repeating the one sentence that he had found always delayed the thoughts and memories. The four words that had always proved to be successful.

"Stay strong for Bryce."

As corny as the words were, they helped. At least, most of the time. Most of the time, the words filled him with hope, freeing him from the darkness that was his mind.

But as of late, his hope had begun shrinking, his words becoming weaker and not as full, as if he had finally realized that there was no being strong in this.

He tried to repeat the sentence a few more times, hoping to feel something, but all he felt was sadness and anger as his demons came back, harder than ever.

He slumped against the side of the couch and grit his teeth in frustration, kicking the wall in front of him, his foot leaving a small indentation in the drywall.

His eyes widened a bit, but then they were back to partially closed and teary as he spoke into the quiet air, hoping no one was listening.

"Shit...sorry, Bryce." He whispered, voice overcome with sadness and pain that wouldn't go away.

He found himself moving forward, holding his knees to his chest as the memories washed over him in a wave of regret, and he shook ever so slightly, the past replaying in his mind, bad choices and actions engraved into his head.