Who Will Fix Me Now? » fransykes

Cries In Vain

Darkness. More people are scared of it than you know. But darkness is such a simplistic beauty. It's something we cannot live without, it's something we cannot have without light and vice versa. Darkness has many meanings and words to describe it. I'm not going on to explain them all because I expect you can think of one hundred and one, yourself.

Darkness to myself, is not an irrational fear. Personally I love the dark, take the dark of night for example, I remember when I was young, before I went 'insane' and was no way close to my arrival here, probably about seven years of age, I used to wait until everyone in my house was fast asleep, I would quietly as possible open my window and just dangle my feet out, letting the breeze dance between my toes. I would listen to what would be nothing to someone else, but to me a thousand whispered secrets seemed to fill the night, as people slept soundly in their beds, making up little stories in their heads.

I've always tried to imagine what makes someone afraid of the dark, and the only rational thing I can think of is that they think something is hiding in it. I feel like I could kind of understand that because there is that split second when you come face to face with what your eyes cannot see through, and before you switch on the light, you never know what awaits you, what's lurking in that dark.

But this darkness that I was face to face with, I knew there was something lurking in it's midst. I can also say that that split second it took for the light to switch on, did scare me. But I was also scared when I saw what was in the dark.

The side of the room that was blacked out was made of brick, like before they put the plaster on to paint it. Against the brick wall, were rusty metal rings. Fastened to those metal rings were rusty chains and then handcuffs, and those handcuffs belonged to someone.

That someone was Lisa.

The last time I saw her, I couldn't remember, my mind has been hazy for quite awhile, but I remember that she didn't look as bad as she did now.

She was left in her underwear made of red lace, not her choice, she once told me she hated the colour red, reminded her of bad memories. Her skin was almost see-through, or her veins were such a vibrant blue. She had zero colour to her face, or sparkle in her eyes, like normal. She was a complete shell. Covering her pale skin, were bruises, all different shapes and sizes, on her hips I think were two handprints and ten nail imprints. Her head was laid back lazily against the wall, the wall was grimy, with an ooze dripping down it. On her forehead were a few beads of sweat. On her cheeks were streaks of mascara, where she had cried. Her red lipstick was smudged across half her face, and her eyes stayed fixated to the floor with the white stains, I don't think the white stains were such a mystery to me anymore.

Josh rushed over to her, cupping her fragile face in his hands, He wiped away the messy black makeup lines with his thumbs and shushed her comfortingly. A screechy sob all of a sudden burst out between her lips and she buried her face in Josh's chest.

"It hurts!" She sobbed. "Everything hurts!" She kept repeating over and over, more to herself I reckon. With each word she gripped tighter and buried deeper into Josh. He never seemed fazed, even if she had hurt him with her death grip.

I watched Josh's every move, every blink, every breath he took. I tried to focus on him. It may sound selfish but I couldn't stand to look at Lisa. Not in a mean way, just I would break down, not very manly of me. But I saw something, something buried deep down in Josh's eyes, something he was thinking so intently, or remembering right this very moment. He looked distant, like he wasn't even here. But at the same time he wanted to be here, he wanted to comfort Lisa with all he had, but he couldn't help loose himself along the way.

There is definitely something else about this boy.

"Oliver!" I was pulled away from my thoughts and forced to look at an extremely pissed off Josh. His face was bright red with anger, his fists were clenched as he got right in my face. He accidentally spat as he said my name. "Oliver!" He shouted again. I hated the way he was saying my name. Normally when he said it, it would drip from his mouth, like a moan of pleasure, but this time it was harsh and spiteful. Like how my parents sounded. I heard hatred, forcing it's way out of the simple word of my name, in every syllable, in every letter.

He gripped my shirt. "You're not fucking listening to me!" He screamed. That's when I noticed I kept blacking out. Where everything paused, everything fell silent, then played again as if it was normal.

He gripped harder onto my shirt and pushed me against the wall. Even though Josh was smaller then me, even if it was only a few inches, I still felt incredibly intimidated.

Before I knew it he sent me a large blow to the face, the force sent my head swinging to the right and smacking against the wall. Another hit came soon after right under my chin, this force sent my head tipping backwards and my skull cracked against the wall, even harder.

I've never been good at fighting, I could never fight back, never stand up for myself. So I slid down the wall and curled myself into a tight poor, maybe this will make him stop, even though it never worked at school, they'd just laugh and resort to kicking me just as hard.

But Josh stopped, he didn't laugh, he didn't kick me. What he did though was look down in me...in disgust. he crouched down and got right in my face once more. "You're going to clean the rest of this room yourself!" He grabbed my jaw, and squeezed until it hurt. "And you're not going to tell Armstrong I took her!" With his other hand he grabbed a handful of my hair. "Maybe you can hold of bumming him and revealing everything to him for one night! Got that faggot!" He spat. "I said, got that!" He screamed again when I didn't answer. He gripped tighter on my hair and jaw and forced me to nod. "That's a good little gay lord". He stood up, still looking at me in disgust.

He released Lisa from her chains and handcuffs. He scooped her up placing a light kiss to her forehead. She looked just about to fall asleep. He carried her out the room.

Leaving me with a growing pain in the back of my head, half a room to scrub clean, and the endless questions about both myself and him.

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Title: Cries In Vain by Bullet For My Valentine

Sorry guys its been so long since I updated this, I didn't necessarily have writers block, I knew what to write and what I wanted int this chapter just not how I was going to write it, if you know what I mean!?!?

Anyways I hope you enjoyed it...thanks for reading...

Song on the side...everyone's gotta love Bullet...if you don't...well you do!