Title: "Please Forgive Me For My Sin..."
Author: LegolasLover2003 aka Ashley
Category: Movie - "Haven"
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: MA - for Language
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to "Haven" save that I own the dvd. I do not know the director, screenwriter, producers, or any of the actors involved. This was written solely for my own pleasure, and for the reading of fans everywhere.
Author's Note: This story contains a LOT of curse words, so be warned. It's taking place after the events of the film "Haven" and is from the point-of-view of a reporter who is conducting an interview. Take note that the song at the end is from the soundtrack for "Haven". Also, the italics conversation back and forth is a conversation from the end of the film itself. THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE IN THIS STORY! You have been warned.
Please Forgive Me For My Sin...
"What the fuck did I do to you? Huh? I lived to love your sister. "
"Fuck you. That wasn't love."
"What was so fuckin' wrong with that? What the fuck do you know about love? Huh? Do you know what it means to love? Do you? Do you know what it means to look into someone's eyes, someone you love? Just to fuckin' look in their eyes? Do you? She was so fucking innocent, man. She was so pure, and she loved me."
"You fuckin' embarrassed my family, Shy. My sister had everything before she started dealin' with you."
"I just saw her being fucked in a toilet! And who's fault is that? Huh? What does she got now? She's better off now, is she? She's fucking better off being fucked in a cubicle by some fucking stranger?"
"I can't stand you, brethren. That's the way it is."
"This didn't scar me, man. You scarred her. Fucking live with that. You fucking live with that. You."
"Fuck you, Shy. Huh? I'd rather my sister be a whore in the fucking streets than fuck with you!"
BANG!
"Fuck it! I'm sorry..."
He sits there, one hand absently tapping a cigarette on the table. Looking up, I watch the young man who fidgets nervously in front of me. Dark hair, dark eyes, the youth looks like he's seen better days. A large burned scar runs about his forehead and down the left side of his face. 'He'd been damn lucky he wasn't blind in the left eye,' I think to myself. Cuts on his nose and a split lip attest to the rough treatment he's seen lately.
He's turning himself in... but he wants someone to hear his side of the story before the police, corrupt bastards that they are, haul his ass off to prison for first degree murder.
"There was a time when I thought I fit in here..." the young man says, his dark gaze on the cigarette that he keeps tapping. "I thought it was so simple, you know. Go to school, to work, out to a party with Kimo or Patrick."
He puts the cigarette in his mouth as he strikes a match from a little matchbook and lights up. For a moment the young man says nothing, taking a drag.
"When I met Andrea though," he scoffs, "Shit man everything went to hell..." a sad smile finds its way to his lips. "But for a while... for a while I thought I was in heaven, you know?" another drag on the cigarette and he raises a hand, calling over the bartender. "She was beautiful, man. So pure, kind... she never thought twice about it all."
Apparently he's known well in this bar, for the man brings him a bottle without having to ask his order. The young man picks it up, the cap already popped off, shaking his head with a smirk. "I'm three years older after all." he says, taking a drink before slamming the bottle onto the table, rattling the ash tray. "Hell, I don't know if it was the age difference, me being a fucking fisherman, or the color of my damned skin that got her parents and brother all riled up." his smirk turns to a smile, brown eyes gaining a faraway look. "But I loved her..." he laughs softly, taking another drag of the cigarette then tipping it on the ash tray to get rid of the excess ash. "I worshiped the ground she walked on, man." he shakes his head.
The blue bandana he wears keeps his curly brown hair from falling into his eyes. "But it was too much, you know?" he asks, looking at me as if I had all of the answers to life. "Just too fucking much." a sigh escapes him and he leans back, taking another pull at his beer. "I guess... I don't know... I got tired of all the bullshit," he scoffs, "Tired of having to hide in the shadows, sneak in an out of windows, you know what I mean?" the man sighs for a second, his eyes closing.
The scars on his face stand out now, with nothing for my eyes to focus on.
I check the tape in the recorder, but as I look back up, haunted brown eyes are staring straight at me.
The man shakes his head slowly, a grimace appearing on his face. "But I..." he looks down before angrily grabbing the beer bottle. "Fuck, I didn't mean to do it! He just..." the man takes a drink, stopping halfway through the motions however. He sets the bottle back on the table, shakily tapping the cigarette ashes into the tray. "He didn't care..." the young man whispers, his gaze moving to stare away. "He didn't care about his sister... his own fucking sister!" rage filled eyes glare at me suddenly. "He'd rather her be a whore than with me! I loved her, man! I. Loved. Her." his hand grips the beer bottle tightly, the fingers shaking uncontrollably. "And that... that damned asshole Hammer couldn't get it through his fucking skull!" the hand moves quickly, the bottle flying through the air, slamming into the wall across from our table.
As it shatters, I turn to look. Beer and glass are everywhere, but then my gaze returns to the young man. He's sitting there, his head in his hands, elbows on the table top. His cigarette burns brightly in the ash tray, smoke wafting up to mix with a few of his stray dark curls. It's apparent that he ran his hands through his hair, the bandana now clutched in one palm, his fingers pulling at his hair from the roots.
The young man takes a deep shuddering breath. When he looks up again, there are the remnants of tears in his brown eyes.
"He would've done it again." the man whispers, a pleading tone to his voice. "He would've given his sister to those... those dogs. I couldn't take it, man." he shakes his head, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. "I couldn't fucking take seeing her like that. High... being fucked in a damned toilet, man!" another shuddering breath escapes him. "I couldn't take it, you know?" he runs his fingers through his hair. "I just... What he said made me... I just... I turned and pulled the trigger. God, I didn't mean it..." tears fall from dark eyes.
One traces the lines of the scar on his face.
"I... Hammer always hated me. I worked for his father. A fisherman, you know." the young man seems to have calmed down slightly as he wipes the tears angrily from his face.
He takes up his cigarette, tipping the ashes before pulling from it. He sits there a moment, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs. When he exhales, his voice is calm again.
"Hammer gave me this, you know." he says, index finger pointing at the scar. "Some damned chemical... Beat the shit out of me later too... Which is where the cuts came from. I don't know why he was so fucking mad that I'd seen his sister with those bastards in the toilet. I mean hell, I was puking my damned guts out all over the lawn, man... My mind shot to hell." he shakes his head. "No, he wanted to see me bleed, you know?" the man raises an eyebrow at me, "Like I was the dog instead of those bastards with his sister." he takes another drag on the cigarette, watching the smoke drift up into the air. "They said I'd raped her... fuck that, man. It was her birthday, I was there because she wanted me there. She wanted it." the young man shakes his head. "I told her we could wait until she was ready. I never pushed her into anything, man!" He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
The man sighs, "Look, man... I just... I did it for her, you know? I did it to protect her. I... I never meant to hurt him, just threaten him a little, you know what I mean? I just..." the young man runs a hand through his hair again, pulling nervously at the cigarette.
Smoke escapes his shaking lips. He tries to speak, but no words come. His eyes cloud over as he shakes his head slowly, as if looking for the words.
"You're sorry." I say after a few minutes pass, watching him carefully.
The young man laughs nervously, running a hand down his face. He nods, a choked sob escaping his lips. Tears make their way from his dark brown eyes as he swallows down a second sob.
"Yeah." Shy replies brokenly. "Yeah... I'm sorry..."
I know danger lurks behind that door
I don't want to face it anymore
I can feel the pressure creep into my skin
And trapped inside a world where no one lives
When you see the hunger you can feel the breeze
Nobody satisfied til somebody bleeds
Look into my eyes you can see my pain
Searching for a path to guide me to make that change
Gotta change my life
GOtta turn around and get born again
This time I must give in
Gotta change my life
Gotta turn around and get born again
This time I must give in
Please forgive me for my sin
-"Gotta Change My Life" by Davon
THE END...