INTO THE STARS
———
MALACHI
The first thing they tell you about my life was how I died. Theoretically, of course. They tell you about the death of the old me. The happier me. They wonder what had to have happened in my life to kill that side of me. What could I possibly have gone through to form the person I am today.
What they don't know is that version of myself is buried alongside my mother.
If the old me could see how I am in the future, he would've wondered how that young, lively boy changed so much.
I would tell him that the world does that to some people. I would tell him to live while I am young and still believe the world could do no wrong and has no monsters living in disguise.
I would tell him all the shit I wish I knew before my life got fucking ruined.
I would tell him that each person's life is like a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate.
I learnt that young. You do not know when anyone could be there one day and gone the next, but when they go, inevitably, it always leaves a wave of pain in its wake.
That's what death has taught and done to me. Robbed me of my innocence and happiness. No one should have to encounter death at such a young age and at the hands of someone else, no less. Not at the hands of someone I looked up to.
As the gates to the prison close behind me, I spot someone familiar standing up ahead. My pace slowed and I resist the need to roll my eyes.
Of fucking course.
Reaching a distance that people won't be concerned about hearing a twenty-one-year-old man scolding a teenager, I stop. Unfortunately, my eyes weren't perceiving me like I hoped they had been. Before I know it, the urge grew too strong, and I rolled my eyes. "Kohen."
With a glance in his periphery, Kohen makes brief eye contact with me, acknowledging me with a small nod of his head. Paying no more attention to me, Kohen skates around the parking lot as if he isn't surrounded by security guards and prisoners less than a hundred feet away from him.
"What are you doing here?" I question rather aggressively, judging by my tone. My gaze following each one of his movements whilst he moves around the parking lot, dodging a car that almost hit him.
Kohen shrugs, finally halting his skating, kicking his skateboard up with his foot and catching it with his right hand. "Just wanted to come by and see my favourite brother."
I raise an arm and begin massaging my jaw in frustration, my patience being tested. Days like this, I wish people could take a fucking hint and leave me the fuck alone. "Well... next time, mind your own fucking business."
He doesn't take much offence at my snappy comment—he's used to them at this point—and simply smirks.
"Get in the car," I say through gritted teeth, growing fed up with the sound of his skateboard wheels against moving across the concrete as he skates around again.
He knows this is annoying me that's why he keeps doing it. Little bastard.
Kohen stops in front of the footpath just on the other side of Aidan's car that I had parked there earlier. He stares at the passing cars on the highway just beside the prison. A great sightseeing spot, I'm sure. On the curb, Kohen sits down, propping his elbows on his haunches and bows his head down.
Throughout the years, I have noticed things. I notice the way people act. How to know when something is bothering them. And the one person who has never been immune to that is my brother. He may be a pain in my ass, but he is the only one in my life that knows the weight of all the shit I have been through.
"Kohen." I raise an eyebrow at him, pressing him silently to tell me what is up with him, just as he turns his head slightly to the side to look at me.
The gravel crunches beneath my feet. Wind whistles through nearby trees. Thunder shakes through the air with an approaching storm. Taking the few steps towards Kohen, I sit down beside him.
Keeping his head low, he releases a sigh. "I'm fine," he insists. "I brought Troy's car. I was about to leave when I saw you leaving and thought I should stay and say something rather than skating off. I know I probably shouldn't be here, but... I just wanted to see how Vaughn has been. But when I went to go inside those uptight security guards—" he shoots a menacing glare to two stationed on either side of the metal gates "—wouldn't let me in. Said I was too young, and he had already had enough visitors for the day."
Silence spreads between us.
The need to say something but not knowing what to say passes through me. After all the comfort and pity I have received over the years, you would think I would be good at it by now.
I shrug and murmur, the only thing I think to say to even boost his mood by a sliver, "You missed little. He still looks like a fucking train wreck and is still the same old asshole. Still a sponge. I think I am going to stop visiting him at this point. Looking at him makes bile rise in my throat."
Kohen's body shudders with a silent chuckle. Ever since I can remember, Kohen and I have nicknamed Vaugh as a 'sponge', courtesy of Kohen. With good reason, of course. No matter how you feel walking through those prison gates, you will walk out feeling drained of anything you thought you felt. Always.
"You always say that," Kohen reminds me of all the past times I have told him that.
"It's true this time. He doesn't deserve our time. He ruined our lives—still ruins our lives to this day—and I don't want him to have that power over either of us," I mutter.
Pouring my heart out and voicing my feelings isn't what I do best—quite the opposite actually—but I need Kohen to know that from this day forward, Vaughn will not be allowed to hold any power over us.
Rain starts to pitter-patter on the ground, falling from the sky slowly. I can feel it soaking into my hair, running down my arms, but I don't care. The sound is soothing and after the day I have had; I need anything that might extinguish any thoughts besides the depressing ones I have right now. Any feelings I might have right now.
Numb. That is the only way I can describe it. That's how I feel right now, and that seems to be the only thing I am capable of feeling.
It spreads through every inch of my body and flows through my bloodstream. This feeling is not unfamiliar to me, though. Numbness is always flowing through me, but today is worse than other days.
Almost ten years ago.
Ten years ago, that ability to feel anything was taken away from me.
Time really flies by.
"Spoken to Keith recently?" I ask, more because of manners than my own personal consideration. Truth is, Keith could rot in a ditch and I would walk away like nothing had happened. More than likely, I would probably be the one to have put him in the ditch, to begin with.
Kohen shakes his head. "Not since Christmas. Stay safe this winter break," Kohen deepens his voice to mimic Keith's voice.
The rain grows heavier and typically I would sit in it for a little while longer, but the rain mixed with the icy air doesn't work well with my current attire of a short sleeve t-shirt and jeans.
"You alright to drive home in the rain?"
Kohen nods, offering me a tight-lipped smile and standing up from the curb.
I follow suit, standing from the curb and brushing off any dirt that may have lingered on me.
Rounding Aidan's car, I watch Kohen walk across the parking lot. My hand holds the handle whilst I watch Kohen rummage through his pockets, pulling out a set of keys. He knows I am watching him, so when he swings the car door open, he halts. Looking back at me, he salutes me with a playful grin. "Until next time, Brother."
How fast he recovers from depressing topics will always astound me.
My hand tugs on the car door, the door giving way and opening just as Kohen drives out of the parking lot in the side mirror.
Once I know he's left the parking lot safely, my eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion from today hitting me at full force.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
I hate the way this place makes me feel. It's like my body knows that it is about to see the person I hate most. Truthfully, that asshole deserves to rot in there and I don't feel any amount of sorrow, but the amount of hold he has over me is embarrassing.
Vaughn has a way of manipulating you to do what he wants and when he wants. His mind is a sick fucking place. The lies he comes up with to trick me into visiting him are something only mentally sick people could come up with.
Revelling in the car's warmth, I focus on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. My surroundings cease to exist right now.
Floating. That's how I feel.
Floating on the numbness that my body thrives on.
・ ・ ・
One place.
One place in this entire fucked-up universe I feel somewhat normal. That I feel like it is only me that exists and the issues that cloud my brain day-in and day-out are problems left for the future.
The warehouse.
An old abandoned warehouse just a couple miles off the main highway near the college I go to, the University of Southern California.
Aidan's car shakes around as the gravel beneath the tires crunches and occasional pieces fly out from under the tires, rocking on the uneven terrain.
A big empty field is cast in a gloomy hue as the sun sets below the horizon. Though, going unseen because of the clouds that have been in the sky for the day. Matching my mood, it seems.
The warehouse sits in the centre of this field, no one nearby for miles. Essentially, this place is unknown to everyone in this town. Unless people do actually know about it and I just have been lucky enough to never run into them.
I like the idea of this place being the one place I can go to without the fear of someone finding me.
Flicking the ignition switch, the car comes to a halt; the engine calming. I hop out of the car, the chilly air sending goosebumps along my bare skin. The shivers shake through my body and it's a reminder that I am human.
I do have the ability to feel things. I am not entirely numb.
The large barn doors open with a bit of force. My footsteps echo when I take the first steps into the warehouse. The tall ceiling causes every minor sound to be amplified tenfold. I am sure you could hear a pin drop in this place.
Truthfully, I don't know how I discovered this place. I think it was after one of my drug escapades. One night, I woke up to the sun shining right in my face and I realised I had fallen asleep in an abandoned warehouse on cold concrete in the middle of nowhere.
But since that night, I have returned more times to count.
More shivers spread across my skin as the temperature inside the four metal walls of the warehouse drops by at least ten degrees. Probably because of the lack of insulation inside this place.
On the opposite end of the empty bottom level, there are two significant sized barn doors—similar to the ones at the front—that are always left open. It looks out onto the extensive field of grass straight ahead and on sunnier days, it allows for a pretty decent view of the horizon and the setting sun.
As I take the remaining strides to the open barn doors, I grab something along the way. My guitar. I keep it here for occasions like this.
Holding onto it by the neck, I carry it over to the open doors, sitting down with it lying in my lap. Most times I come here, it goes the same way.
First, I stare at the field for a while before I think of a song I want to play on my guitar. My fingers work, playing that same song a few times before I grow tired of working my body for the day.
Then, I grab a joint from my pocket and smoke as many as it takes until I am high enough to the point I don't even know my name anymore.
The first song that comes to mind after I stare at the grass swaying in the wing, droplets of water trickling down each blade, I play. The melody of "Fix You" by Coldplay carries through the silent air surrounding me and into my ears.
My fingers move with the beat, creating the familiar melody whilst my other hand strums. I stare out as the rain grows heavier and a sliver of moonlight shines through a gap in the clouds.
The song ends and I gaze out at the field some more. The sky is void of any light besides the negligible amount of light the stars omit.
Roaming the sky, my eyes try to spot the constellation I have memorised in my mind. Doubting my chances of finding it amidst the storm clouds, I try to stop my gaze from looking any further.
There it is.
Just as I stop looking, I find it.
Inhale. Exhale.
I rummage through my pocket, finding a joint and lighting it immediately with a stray lighter I left here the last time I came.
Taking a deep drag, the familiar buzz washes over me and I feel at... peace, in an odd way.
This is the feeling I am living for.
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AUTHORS NOTE
heyyyy guys!!! long time no talk. how has everyone been?
i hope everyone is good and enjoyed the first chapter. nothing eventful happened just yet, it was more introductory to Malachi and how he thinks.
any guesses as to what may have happened in Malachi's past?
his backstory truly breaks my heart and i know it is going to be challenging to write such a complex character but i am very much excited as i hope you are, as well.
anyways, any thoughts, comments or questions about this story so far? if so, don't be afraid to ask.
don't forget to vote, comment and share. you are all beautiful and i love you all endlessly 🤍
lots of love,
rose x
p.s. don't be a silent reader, your thoughts make me day more than you can imagine :)