What's it Like to Cry? I Can't Remember.

What's it Like to Cry... {6}

Hey guys, I know it's been a while, but it was school break and I was... you guessed it... taking a break!!

anyways, i hope you like it, leave lots of comments pretty please???!!??

=D

vote?comment?fan?

***

WHAT"S IT LIKE TO CRY? I CAN'T REMEMBER

"HELEN!" I cry out into the silent house. I was standing in the open doorway of a large room in my house. I couldn't tear my horror struck gaze from the sight of a pair of rarely used drum sticks resting, not on the snare where I always put them, but on the small drum stool.

Someone has been inside here.

I gently close the door to my sacred room as I hear Helen, my main housekeeper, who sort of handles most of the other staff, like the maids and stuff, come towards me.

"Helen," I start in a calm voice, holding in my anger, we wouldn't want me to do anything rash now would we. "who the hell was in there?" I was slipping, hold it in Tori, breathe, calm.

"What do you mean mi-Tori?" The staff knew not to call me by anything other than my name. I hate titles and nick names of all sorts. Tori is the only thing anyone is allowed to call me by.

"I know every inch of everything in that room by memory, and someone moved something in there. You will tell me who it was."

"I-I went in there to dust." She told me, clutching her hands in front of her.

"And what gave you that idea?" I asked her.

"The door wasn't closed properly, I saw inside and thought it could use a dusting." She told me simply.

"Even after I told the entire household specifically not to even look inside of this room?" I was speaking slowly and clearly, trying not to let any emotion through my voice.

"Y-yes miss" she stuttered out. I took a deep breath, calling me miss wasn't helping me control my anger.

" And even while knowing not to look into the room, you entered, and then touched my drumsticks." my words where starting to come out cold and icy. I had the satisfaction of hearing her gasp quietly.

"It was an accident, I didn't mean to, I promise, I bumped into the set, then the sticks fell to the floor, and, and, I" She was speaking faster than usual, every word traced with worry.

"Did you touch anything else." I sounded extremely cold now, as my jaw muscles clenched in apprehension.

"I was dusting." she whispered, looking down and wringing her hands nervously.

"I know that Hel..." I trailed off as I took in the meaning of those words, horror seeping into my skin as I began to understand. She was dusting of everything in the room.

"Everything, even the instruments." If I thought that I sounded cold before, now, I was glacial. Helen didn't say anything, she just nodded her confirmation. My breathing began to grow heavier as my hands began to twitch. How dare she. I had been perfectly clear in my orders to every one of my staff that began to work here.

1)never address me as anything but Tori

2)if I am behind a door that is locked, do not disturb under any circumstances

3)NEVER, open the door to the room I was standing before at this moment, let alone enter.

None of the staff even knew what was in the room, because with the door closed, no sound could escape. It was virtually sound proof.

"You ever set foot in this room again, I swear you will be out of this house faster than you can blink, no two weeks notice, no final pay cheque. Just out. Are we understood?"

"Yes, of course, it won't happen again, I'm sorry." she whispered, still not looking at me.

"Now get out of my sight, and refresh the other staffs' memory about what will happen if they set foot inside there." I told her harshly. She didn't answer, just scurried off, probably to warn the others not to come near me for a while.

I carried on breathing deeply, trying desperately to get a grip on my anger. I've had anger issues for a while now. Anything used to be able to set me off, but I learnt to control myself, and now it takes a heck of a lot to anger me. But when it does, there's hell to pay.

I couldn't go in to that room in this state, I'd probably just end up breaking something and regret it later. I headed into a room further down the hall, which had lately turned into a sort of home gym.

I tried my best to get over my anger by beating up a worn punching bag, hitting hard and fast. Soon, I became drenched in sweat and already panting, but I didn't stop. I battered the bag until I could barely lift my arms again, shaking off terrible memory after memory.

By the time I stopped, it was more than late enough to go to sleep, after all, I did have school the next day. So I headed up to my room to take a warm shower, letting the water sooth my aching muscles, barely noticing how much my hands stung. It wasn't until I was out of the shower and dressed that I noticed how bruised my hands where. I had forgotten to put on the gloves.

Sighing, I wrapped my hand in gauze, the blood form a few cuts had already been washed away in the shower. Then I struggled with my other hand, it is extremely difficult to bind a hand when your other one is pretty much useless.

I headed down towards the kitchen, only now becoming aware of the silence in the house. It really was late, every last one of the staff had headed home, and the house was completely dark. I awkwardly took ice out of the freezer, rapping it up in a cloth before heading back to my room. This took a lot longer than usual because all I could use was my thumb, and the other four finger that where bound together.

I lay on the bed with the ice pack resting on both of my hands, trying to sleep, and rest my tired muscles. I tried to rid my head from any thoughts, just breathing, listening to my heart beat and waiting for sleep to overcome me.

It never did.

***

vote?comment?fan?