Post by Skye Spyder on Jun 29, 2015 1:05:59 GMT -5
Normally he pretended not to feel anything, now he wished he could actually do so. The pain was numbing now, a great blackness that cocooned around him. The fact that he felt like he’d never known anything else yet the images played through his head anyway; proving him wrong. Knowing he’d been happy before now was where the real torture began. He couldn’t escape the memories.
Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat he trudged forward in the rain. The icy droplets were barely felt as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. If he didn’t keep going, if he stopped, he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue. His very soul ached. The deep seated agony blanked out his mind. Wandering with no destination preset in his mind he’d unwittingly allowed his feet to take him to the last place he wanted to be. Dull brown eyes focused on the multi-windowed house from the street. He’d done this before. After a fight they’d had Mikhail had stood in this very place and watched Sacha’s silhouette through the glass. It’d been raining then too.
He’d never see him again. The weight of that knowledge was all but crippling. He staggered to the door, weak kneed from the long journey home and the sudden rainfall that signalled the beginning of the winter months. Bruised and bloodied hands shook as he fumbled with the door handle to get in. His mind conjured up a vision of curling up next to Sacha beneath the covers of their bed. He’d be alone now. Just as he would tomorrow and the next day and the next without end. Finally able to get inside he leaned back heavily against the door, head tilting back until he starred not so much at the ceiling as past it. It was too quiet, to lifeless, in their home. Sliding down to the floor he ran his hands back through his hair then brought them down over his face. The warm trails down his face only tightened the vise of guilt around his heart. This was his fault. The whole thing. He should’ve died not… His final vision of Sacha slammed into his frontal lobe like a semi, choking a childish sob from him. Unable to breathe he put his hands in his hair and pulled.
Mikhail couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting there, shivering violently, staring across the atrium into the living room. The point he’d fixed his gaze on for the last however so long blurred. Wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand he forced himself up, using the solid wood of the door as a support. With the warmth of the inside eroding the numbing effects of the rain he felt anew the myriad of burning welts and cuts he’d sustained as well as the stiffness in his bones and the pounding in his head that made his vision swim. He’d take all this and suffer it each day if it would bring back…A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he hobbled to the downstairs bathroom. He couldn’t face the sights and smells of being up stairs around all their conjoined belongings.
Stripping clumsily as he walked Mikhail let his clothing fall where it would. It was all ruined anyway. What wasn’t torn was sullied with the events of the day. The simple silver cross around his neck was all he kept. Clinging to the thing he avoided his reflection as he entered the bathroom and started a shower mechanically. He didn’t want to think about anything anymore. He wanted to be someone else, somewhere else. Or maybe to just turn back the clock and have another chance. He’d give anything.
Stepping into the water before it was fully warm started the shivering up worse but he slowly thawed out as the water heater kicked on. Closing his eyes and wishing this was all a dream seemed like the most childish thing he could imagine and yet he did so anyway. He prayed to every god he could think of then a collective prayer to all the ones he couldn’t. He bargained, bartered, offered up everything he had including his soul. There was no flash of light, no angel or demon come to collect on his debt, nothing but the sound of water and the rolling thunder outside. He waited, watching the water flow, and listened but to no avail. Why did he think his sudden turn to religion would bring Sacha back? It hadn’t helped when his mother was being beaten or when his twin turned against him, or when his ex fiancée had run of with his unborn daughter.
Giving up he went about showering methodically to distract himself. Carefully avoiding all the open, raw cuts and scrapes, the road burn. Letting out a breath he closed his eyes and wished again to have a do over even though it was a fruitless endeavour. Not bothering to dry off he barely made it to the bed and under the covers before the near week of no sleep, assault, and armed battery got to him past the crushing sense of loss and he was swallowed up by a coma like sleep.
Two Weeks Later...
It felt like years had passed since he'd pulled up to Carlos' house like this. It felt too normal and yet some sense of urgency clouded this meeting. After finally answering his friends attempts to contact him. Neither of them sounded good. The first human contact he'd had in the past weeks and already the snap back to reality was draining. Mikhail pulled the hood of his leather jacket up to try and shade the healing black eye and busted lip he still bore. No reason for Carlos to see any of that but it wasn't like he could hide it no one wears sunglasses at night.
He hadn't thought about how his absence would effect anyone at school. In truth it surprised him anyone really noticed with the way he skipped out on classes to be with Sacha every week. Amazingly he didn't have bad grades but then again a lot of the work was online anyway. Class was just a place to do it in a timely manor. Honestly he wanted to get his GED and drop out all together. His job as a mechanic was secure and he was up to his ears in commissions for his custom car brand so it wasn't like he actually needed to finish high school. He could always go back if he really wanted. Or go on to college but what the hell would he need that shit for?
He ran a hand back through his hair, the dark brown waves flopping back into their previous position as if they'd never been touched. Mikhail didn't feel ready to face real life. He didn't even feel alive anymore. A big part of him had been ripped away and something important had died with Sacha. He wouldn't get that piece of him back, wasn't even sure if he wanted it.
Not wanting to run into Carlos' parents, or sister for that matter, he cut the engine and put it in neutral to roll up the slight incline beneath Carlos' window. Normally he would've been on his bike but he'd sent the thing over a cliff last week. In fact the road burn was still killing him. Regardless he stepped from the sleek black, albeit a bit scratched up, muscle car as he pulled out his phone to shoot a text at Carlos. The lights were still on in Laila's room as well but it looked like the authority figures were already asleep.
Contact(s): Carlos Time: 11:37pm
Message: I'm outside your window. When ever you're ready.
Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat he trudged forward in the rain. The icy droplets were barely felt as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. If he didn’t keep going, if he stopped, he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue. His very soul ached. The deep seated agony blanked out his mind. Wandering with no destination preset in his mind he’d unwittingly allowed his feet to take him to the last place he wanted to be. Dull brown eyes focused on the multi-windowed house from the street. He’d done this before. After a fight they’d had Mikhail had stood in this very place and watched Sacha’s silhouette through the glass. It’d been raining then too.
He’d never see him again. The weight of that knowledge was all but crippling. He staggered to the door, weak kneed from the long journey home and the sudden rainfall that signalled the beginning of the winter months. Bruised and bloodied hands shook as he fumbled with the door handle to get in. His mind conjured up a vision of curling up next to Sacha beneath the covers of their bed. He’d be alone now. Just as he would tomorrow and the next day and the next without end. Finally able to get inside he leaned back heavily against the door, head tilting back until he starred not so much at the ceiling as past it. It was too quiet, to lifeless, in their home. Sliding down to the floor he ran his hands back through his hair then brought them down over his face. The warm trails down his face only tightened the vise of guilt around his heart. This was his fault. The whole thing. He should’ve died not… His final vision of Sacha slammed into his frontal lobe like a semi, choking a childish sob from him. Unable to breathe he put his hands in his hair and pulled.
Mikhail couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting there, shivering violently, staring across the atrium into the living room. The point he’d fixed his gaze on for the last however so long blurred. Wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand he forced himself up, using the solid wood of the door as a support. With the warmth of the inside eroding the numbing effects of the rain he felt anew the myriad of burning welts and cuts he’d sustained as well as the stiffness in his bones and the pounding in his head that made his vision swim. He’d take all this and suffer it each day if it would bring back…A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he hobbled to the downstairs bathroom. He couldn’t face the sights and smells of being up stairs around all their conjoined belongings.
Stripping clumsily as he walked Mikhail let his clothing fall where it would. It was all ruined anyway. What wasn’t torn was sullied with the events of the day. The simple silver cross around his neck was all he kept. Clinging to the thing he avoided his reflection as he entered the bathroom and started a shower mechanically. He didn’t want to think about anything anymore. He wanted to be someone else, somewhere else. Or maybe to just turn back the clock and have another chance. He’d give anything.
Stepping into the water before it was fully warm started the shivering up worse but he slowly thawed out as the water heater kicked on. Closing his eyes and wishing this was all a dream seemed like the most childish thing he could imagine and yet he did so anyway. He prayed to every god he could think of then a collective prayer to all the ones he couldn’t. He bargained, bartered, offered up everything he had including his soul. There was no flash of light, no angel or demon come to collect on his debt, nothing but the sound of water and the rolling thunder outside. He waited, watching the water flow, and listened but to no avail. Why did he think his sudden turn to religion would bring Sacha back? It hadn’t helped when his mother was being beaten or when his twin turned against him, or when his ex fiancée had run of with his unborn daughter.
Giving up he went about showering methodically to distract himself. Carefully avoiding all the open, raw cuts and scrapes, the road burn. Letting out a breath he closed his eyes and wished again to have a do over even though it was a fruitless endeavour. Not bothering to dry off he barely made it to the bed and under the covers before the near week of no sleep, assault, and armed battery got to him past the crushing sense of loss and he was swallowed up by a coma like sleep.
Two Weeks Later...
It felt like years had passed since he'd pulled up to Carlos' house like this. It felt too normal and yet some sense of urgency clouded this meeting. After finally answering his friends attempts to contact him. Neither of them sounded good. The first human contact he'd had in the past weeks and already the snap back to reality was draining. Mikhail pulled the hood of his leather jacket up to try and shade the healing black eye and busted lip he still bore. No reason for Carlos to see any of that but it wasn't like he could hide it no one wears sunglasses at night.
He hadn't thought about how his absence would effect anyone at school. In truth it surprised him anyone really noticed with the way he skipped out on classes to be with Sacha every week. Amazingly he didn't have bad grades but then again a lot of the work was online anyway. Class was just a place to do it in a timely manor. Honestly he wanted to get his GED and drop out all together. His job as a mechanic was secure and he was up to his ears in commissions for his custom car brand so it wasn't like he actually needed to finish high school. He could always go back if he really wanted. Or go on to college but what the hell would he need that shit for?
He ran a hand back through his hair, the dark brown waves flopping back into their previous position as if they'd never been touched. Mikhail didn't feel ready to face real life. He didn't even feel alive anymore. A big part of him had been ripped away and something important had died with Sacha. He wouldn't get that piece of him back, wasn't even sure if he wanted it.
Not wanting to run into Carlos' parents, or sister for that matter, he cut the engine and put it in neutral to roll up the slight incline beneath Carlos' window. Normally he would've been on his bike but he'd sent the thing over a cliff last week. In fact the road burn was still killing him. Regardless he stepped from the sleek black, albeit a bit scratched up, muscle car as he pulled out his phone to shoot a text at Carlos. The lights were still on in Laila's room as well but it looked like the authority figures were already asleep.
Contact(s): Carlos Time: 11:37pm
Message: I'm outside your window. When ever you're ready.