(Original)
Schrei Bist du du selbst bist/ Schrei Und wenn es das letzte ist/ Schrei Auch wenn es weh tut/ Schrei so laut du kannst!/ Schrei Bist du du selbst bist/ Schrei Und wenn es das letzte ist/ Schrei Auch wenn es weh tut/ Schrei so laut du kannst
(English)
Scream 'till you feel it/ Scream 'till you believe it/ Scream and when it hurts you/ Scream it out loud/ Scream 'till you feel it/ Scream 'till you believe it/ Scream and when it hurts you/ Scream it out loud- Tokio Hotel- Schrei
Ch 10
June 30, 2010
I turned over. My pillow, stained with tears, grew cold after a many had fallen. Makeup smeared itself onto my pillow with the steady flow of tears drowning my face. Colors spiraled together as my vision circled with my spinning head.
"Sephora. Please, just open your door." The voice of Bill did not come as a surprise; however, I refused to answer his calling.
My sadness couldn't be seen from the outside as the sun still shone as if nothing in the world had gone wrong. But beneath my wavering smile held a shattering heart; it had already been broken before. Time took a while to mend the pieces which had fallen. Though with this break, the hurt pronounced itself with the constant intake of air, unlike any pain I had experienced in my life.
At least you tried, I kept repeating. Yet, another voice interrupted, but trying isn't good enough. You never found out the truth.
The picture, once in my hand, floated to the floor. Glossy film turned over revealing the white backing. In black ink, printed toward the center, a date reading June 13, 1992, the day after my second birthday. The last snapshot of my life before he disappeared from my newly begun life; a man I didn't know. And my trust placed on other's shoulders to satisfy my hunger of truth.
Problems all began with one look at a picture, this picture. Just one look and problems evolved from thin air. Like a choker too tight and only tightening with time. Maybe it was the wrong choice. Now, only if I could erase time. Hide. Forget. But what conclusion would I come to then?
Bursting anger boiled my blood. Tears dried upon my face. I grabbed the picture. Crumpling the edges, my fingers curled around the polished surface. In both my hand, I tore the picture. Slowly, my mum and I separated from my dad, just as Bill and Tom would after leaving the unsatisfying truth behind.
"He didn't mean what he said," Bill's voice broke through the door again.
I caved, "I know what a lie sounds like. And to tell you, he wasn't lying. At all."
"Let me explain."
But there was no reason to respond. Tom's voice earlier explained his intentions enough. I didn't need, nor want to hear an explanation. Not at the moment.
Darkness invaded the corners of my room, clinging to the ceiling as only a small lamp by my bed still stayed alight. My eyes opened to low voices echoing beyond the other side of my closed door.
"She just needs time." Without a doubt, I knew my mum had just spoken.
"I'm s-sorry for all of this," of course Bill still held his ground, determined not to leave.
"It's not your fault."
"But at least I n-need to s-set things s-straight with Sephora."
"How 'bout I give you a call when she wakes?"
"No. I want to say a few things to her, now."
"She's asleep though."
My door opened with a turn of the knob. Hinges rattling, the useless lock, supposedly supposed to keep out those without entrance, gave way. I immediately snapped my eyes shut. Taking heavy breaths, I tried to convince the people observing I was sleeping.
The door clicked closed; however, breathing, other than mine invaded my room. Footsteps glided from the door to near my bed, stopping a few feet away.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Steady low breaths became lighter. Yet I refused to see his face. I knew it was him. Just how he held himself and walked through the shadowing light of thin eyelids, I was positive it wasn't mum.
"I can a-apologize for him. I will a-apologize for him. Tom. Well his name explains himself." He chuckled a low laugh. "He loves our f-fans and all, but when it comes to per-personal life, he'd rather not talk about it. E-esp-especially when it's about Jörg." A long sigh escaped his lips.
My heartbeat quickened for reasons unknown. Keeping my body relaxed was a challenge. Tension did not ease on the inside. However, I managed at only rolling my hands to fist under the calm covers. Clenching and unclenching, I realized Bill had begun speaking again.
"It's a touchy s-subject for all of us. He's not usually like-" Bill cut off.
With the stillness infesting the room, my eyes released their clutching stance to blossom to the sight of Bill. His eyes aimed downward to the divided film sitting near the edge of my bed. I fought the urge to snatch the picture from the ground and run. Run away from this place. Yet I stayed motionless. Gracefully, his body moved slowly to the floor. He gently gathered both sides of the picture, torn jaggedly, to place the pieces together in his hand.
Those eyes of his didn't stay connected to the photograph long. My eyes were still opened as his gaze shifted to the bed where I still lay.
"It's him," he murmured, right as he begun to realize I had awakened. "You heard all that, didn't you?"
I nodded. "But I thought that's why you came in here. To talk to me. Alone."
"I came in here to find the photo. I did not expect you to hear the-"
"So you didn't mean the apology?"
"Of course I did."
"Sure sounds like it. I've been told the exact same thing before. And guess what, it stabbed me in the back."
"You want to talk about it?" he asked, jumping away from the subject at hand.
"Not at all." My voice remained cold, icily rejecting every word that had slipped his mouth. Disregarding his voice, I remained silent. I could've sworn footsteps exited my room. Shunning Bill from my vision, I rolled over to the opposite side of my bed.
"How long do you usually hold a grudge?" he asked out of nowhere. Ugh, he was still here. Again the dead quiet rang against my ears. I hopelessly tried to imagine Bill disappearing into a cloud of dust. Usually people can take a hint. Apparently not him as his shadow still hovered above me.
"Sephora, Tom has never held a grudge against me. We slam doors, but within ten minutes we make amends for whatever argument that took place. Today wasn't at all played by those rules. He's been gone for hours."
"So go look for him," I replied as if it were the simplest answer out there.
"Sure, like I'd know where to look."
"What do you want?" My thin barrier began to crumble. No way in this world can I ever hold a grudge. Failure is the inevitable outcome.
Flipping over to see his face, a smile gradually appeared. "I want you to show him you're not looking for fame and fortune. Proof is in my hands."
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Hey!! Another chapter finished!! I realize it isn't the best, but I'll come back and edit it at some point. I just need to meet my Sunday deadlines. I know it's only the end of May and I have until the end of October to finish this, but I feel like this time is gonna fly by and I won't be near done.
I'll try over the summer to update more frequently, but I can't promise anything. My summer is short and filled with to many activities, projects and trips.
No translations today, but there are many bits and pieces of Sephora's thoughts. Hopefully that wasn't too confusing. Soon or later I'll italicize them.
Happy Memorial Day to all who have served for America. Freedom isn't free, and we need to show support for all those who are risking their lives daily to keep this country the way it has been for 200 years.
I hope you enjoyed. And now, time for bed.
Until next time...
Midnightriter