Hello
fellow writers and readers :).
Here is the next chapter. I apologize for it being so short, but for some reason it just felt right to post this specific part of the story as a full chapter...? (We'll never know why, lol)
jkb: Once again, I cannot thank you enough for reviewing my chapter! Thanks so much for taking time to first of all read every chapter, and then respond thoughtfully. I know lots of people say this but I really do appreciate it! And you said that every chapter a sentence jumps out at you...I didn't know that haha:). I find it surprising how you mentioned that "...she didn't really feel fear. It was more like an insecure cynicism..." jumped out at you because I didn't really intend for that specific sentence to be so important. That's the good thing about stories though, everyone gets something different from it. If anything ever jumps out at you, please tell me because I find it quite interesting! Also, thanks for the compliment on the transitions! I didn't really mean to do transitions the way I did, it just kind of happened. I really hope you like this next part (sincerely)...
kurupt emocions: I can't believe you read the whole thing ...! That's really nice of you to do that...in the beginning when i started to write this I had no idea it would be so long. Also, thanks for the advice! I really appreciate your review...
I hope the use of adjectives in this installment isn't too much (making it story corny/overdone)....well, if it is, oh well...;)
He could feel the sharp edge digging into his skin.
He couldn't stop. Something else was there taking control of him. It punctured his skin. A tiny drop of red fluid slid its way down his wrist. Something about it was so pure. It was the release...
...the desperation. Harsh, rapid, reckless desperation.
Blissful, delirious desperation.
Painful desperation.
Why stop when there was nothing to live for? It could all be over within a matter of minutes. He didn't deserve to live.
Johnny heard a noise. He didn't realize...
Johnny jerked his head up, his vision focusing in on the person who was now finished with the phone call. She was standing in the middle of the tattered olive rug, a cynical snarl on her face. She knew the shard of glass was pressed to his wrist, she knew a drop of blood was leaking from the tiny prick.
She didn't care.
He realized. He was the one who had made the noise.
He realized...
All those promises. They were such a lie...
She could hear them speaking to her, but it was too hard. It was too hard to tune in to what they saying. Too hard to live her so-called life anymore. So she just ignored it. Ignoring your life and what's going on around you is much easier. No effort. No wasted energy.
No pain.
Promises. That's what they always do. They tell you everything's alright. They tell you it's going to get better. They tell you it's worth it.
But it's not.
His hands were trembling as the object slipped out his hand. His whole body was trembling. Johnny rose from the cheap tile.
Maybe.
Maybe, just maybe, he was worth more than what he had been told his whole life. A few seconds before he had thought that if he committed suicide it would be the ultimate triumph over his parents; he would kill himself before they would kill him. But now he realized that if he killed himself his parents would be the winners. Johnny had always sacrificed himself for others, but he couldn't ignore his own feelings anymore. He had to stay alive, not for anybody else.
He needed to do it for himself.
They didn't know what to do.
The town and its associations. The stressful atmosphere. She needed a "breath of fresh air." Ha. The way they said it, like it was such a light deal. Like she needed a little walk through the park and everything would be fine and dandy.
But hey, Mary, what about your sister? She lives in a nice little town. I think it will be good for Summer. It will be nice to get away for a while.
It will be nice to leave it behind...
Johnny managed to stumble out the front door. He didn't look back at his mother. Ignoring the physical unease his body was experiencing, Johnny made his way as far from the house as he could.
It was funny. Now it was as if, after he had almost taken his life, everything was so clear. It felt like he was actually experiencing life for once. Experiencing life for himself.
He could hear the ambulance off in the distance. He knew why...
Johnny walked for what seemed like an hour, making it several blocks away from his house. His body was hurting too much to continue. Johnny lowered himself onto a curb near an alley, attempting to stay upright. He could feel his entire face swelling up, and pain shot through his back with every movement he made. It hurt to breath.
He was so tired.
His left eye was swollen to the point that it was completely shut. Johnny felt his other eyelid drooping, but it snapped open when he heard something. He looked over. There was someone making his way from the eastern most part of the town. The hoodlum stopped when he noticed the black haired greaser on the curb. His pale eyes widened in surprise.
"J- Johnny?" He stepped closer, his hand traveling to the kid's shoulder. Johnny winced, then looked up into a familiar face. He was losing energy. Johnny dropped his head before he could see the hurt on Dally's face.
"I know why..." Johnny was surprised at how cracked and tired his voice sounded.
"Huh? You okay kid?" Dally's words were soft, yet still seemed loud because the area was so quiet. Johnny didn't answer. The towhead waited patiently for an answer, then realized he wasn't going to receive one.
"Johnny? You feel up to walking? Can you make it to the Curtises?" Johnny shook his head frantically.
"No!" he choked out, "I don't want to go near- I can't- my Dad..." Dally instantly caught on.
"Alright kid," he replied soothingly, "we won't do that, it's gonna be okay." Johnny's home life was bad enough, but Dallas could sense that this night something bad had happened. Something worse than usual.
He lowered himself onto the curb next to Johnny. The sixteen year old looked exhausted, and Dally automatically brought his hand up to Johnny's back as he started to nod off. Johnny's eyes shot open, flinching as he reacted to the touch.
"No! My...my back, remember?"
"Wha-?" Dally faltered, a few seconds later catching on to what the sixteen year old was saying. He turned his head away, stopping himself short before a string of curses escaped his mouth. How could he have been so stupid? He should've known. He should've... "Again? Tonight?" Johnny nodded slowly. Dally sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. He turned back around, examining Johnny's face. His fists clenched at the sight of his friend's throbbing face and horribly swollen eye.
Why? Why Johnny? The following silence brought Dally's attention to Johnny's haggard breaths. He observed Johnny's back. Bloodstains were dotted all over the black fabric of his t-shirt. Dallas swallowed meagerly. Johnny was almost drifting off again, his free eyelid closing involuntarily.
"Hey Johnnycake," Dally ordered, "I need you to stay up for me, okay? Can you do that?" Johnny felt so drained he just wanted to sleep. "Come on kid, I know it's hard." He forced his eye open, attempting with all his willpower to stay awake. Dallas could see it in Johnny: something about him was different, something had changed.
Silence followed once again, and then suddenly Johnny spoke.
"It was my dad." He didn't look up as he gave a bitter laugh. "What a lame excuse for a father." Dally found himself suddenly intrigued by the repeating brick pattern of the opposing wall. He couldn't face Johnny. Johnny had never spoken about his home life- his personal feelings- with such clarity before. It was as if he was growing; the shame wasn't written all over him anymore.
Dallas suddenly felt desperate. He didn't want Johnny to change...
"Johnny," he ordered in an attempt to take control, "I can tell you're having a hard time breathing. Let me see your back. I need to see how bad..." Dally sucked in his breath, unable to finish his sentence.
He didn't want to be left behind.
Here is the next chapter. I apologize for it being so short, but for some reason it just felt right to post this specific part of the story as a full chapter...? (We'll never know why, lol)
jkb: Once again, I cannot thank you enough for reviewing my chapter! Thanks so much for taking time to first of all read every chapter, and then respond thoughtfully. I know lots of people say this but I really do appreciate it! And you said that every chapter a sentence jumps out at you...I didn't know that haha:). I find it surprising how you mentioned that "...she didn't really feel fear. It was more like an insecure cynicism..." jumped out at you because I didn't really intend for that specific sentence to be so important. That's the good thing about stories though, everyone gets something different from it. If anything ever jumps out at you, please tell me because I find it quite interesting! Also, thanks for the compliment on the transitions! I didn't really mean to do transitions the way I did, it just kind of happened. I really hope you like this next part (sincerely)...
kurupt emocions: I can't believe you read the whole thing ...! That's really nice of you to do that...in the beginning when i started to write this I had no idea it would be so long. Also, thanks for the advice! I really appreciate your review...
I hope the use of adjectives in this installment isn't too much (making it story corny/overdone)....well, if it is, oh well...;)
He could feel the sharp edge digging into his skin.
He couldn't stop. Something else was there taking control of him. It punctured his skin. A tiny drop of red fluid slid its way down his wrist. Something about it was so pure. It was the release...
...the desperation. Harsh, rapid, reckless desperation.
Blissful, delirious desperation.
Painful desperation.
Why stop when there was nothing to live for? It could all be over within a matter of minutes. He didn't deserve to live.
Johnny heard a noise. He didn't realize...
Johnny jerked his head up, his vision focusing in on the person who was now finished with the phone call. She was standing in the middle of the tattered olive rug, a cynical snarl on her face. She knew the shard of glass was pressed to his wrist, she knew a drop of blood was leaking from the tiny prick.
She didn't care.
He realized. He was the one who had made the noise.
He realized...
All those promises. They were such a lie...
She could hear them speaking to her, but it was too hard. It was too hard to tune in to what they saying. Too hard to live her so-called life anymore. So she just ignored it. Ignoring your life and what's going on around you is much easier. No effort. No wasted energy.
No pain.
Promises. That's what they always do. They tell you everything's alright. They tell you it's going to get better. They tell you it's worth it.
But it's not.
His hands were trembling as the object slipped out his hand. His whole body was trembling. Johnny rose from the cheap tile.
Maybe.
Maybe, just maybe, he was worth more than what he had been told his whole life. A few seconds before he had thought that if he committed suicide it would be the ultimate triumph over his parents; he would kill himself before they would kill him. But now he realized that if he killed himself his parents would be the winners. Johnny had always sacrificed himself for others, but he couldn't ignore his own feelings anymore. He had to stay alive, not for anybody else.
He needed to do it for himself.
They didn't know what to do.
The town and its associations. The stressful atmosphere. She needed a "breath of fresh air." Ha. The way they said it, like it was such a light deal. Like she needed a little walk through the park and everything would be fine and dandy.
But hey, Mary, what about your sister? She lives in a nice little town. I think it will be good for Summer. It will be nice to get away for a while.
It will be nice to leave it behind...
Johnny managed to stumble out the front door. He didn't look back at his mother. Ignoring the physical unease his body was experiencing, Johnny made his way as far from the house as he could.
It was funny. Now it was as if, after he had almost taken his life, everything was so clear. It felt like he was actually experiencing life for once. Experiencing life for himself.
He could hear the ambulance off in the distance. He knew why...
Johnny walked for what seemed like an hour, making it several blocks away from his house. His body was hurting too much to continue. Johnny lowered himself onto a curb near an alley, attempting to stay upright. He could feel his entire face swelling up, and pain shot through his back with every movement he made. It hurt to breath.
He was so tired.
His left eye was swollen to the point that it was completely shut. Johnny felt his other eyelid drooping, but it snapped open when he heard something. He looked over. There was someone making his way from the eastern most part of the town. The hoodlum stopped when he noticed the black haired greaser on the curb. His pale eyes widened in surprise.
"J- Johnny?" He stepped closer, his hand traveling to the kid's shoulder. Johnny winced, then looked up into a familiar face. He was losing energy. Johnny dropped his head before he could see the hurt on Dally's face.
"I know why..." Johnny was surprised at how cracked and tired his voice sounded.
"Huh? You okay kid?" Dally's words were soft, yet still seemed loud because the area was so quiet. Johnny didn't answer. The towhead waited patiently for an answer, then realized he wasn't going to receive one.
"Johnny? You feel up to walking? Can you make it to the Curtises?" Johnny shook his head frantically.
"No!" he choked out, "I don't want to go near- I can't- my Dad..." Dally instantly caught on.
"Alright kid," he replied soothingly, "we won't do that, it's gonna be okay." Johnny's home life was bad enough, but Dallas could sense that this night something bad had happened. Something worse than usual.
He lowered himself onto the curb next to Johnny. The sixteen year old looked exhausted, and Dally automatically brought his hand up to Johnny's back as he started to nod off. Johnny's eyes shot open, flinching as he reacted to the touch.
"No! My...my back, remember?"
"Wha-?" Dally faltered, a few seconds later catching on to what the sixteen year old was saying. He turned his head away, stopping himself short before a string of curses escaped his mouth. How could he have been so stupid? He should've known. He should've... "Again? Tonight?" Johnny nodded slowly. Dally sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. He turned back around, examining Johnny's face. His fists clenched at the sight of his friend's throbbing face and horribly swollen eye.
Why? Why Johnny? The following silence brought Dally's attention to Johnny's haggard breaths. He observed Johnny's back. Bloodstains were dotted all over the black fabric of his t-shirt. Dallas swallowed meagerly. Johnny was almost drifting off again, his free eyelid closing involuntarily.
"Hey Johnnycake," Dally ordered, "I need you to stay up for me, okay? Can you do that?" Johnny felt so drained he just wanted to sleep. "Come on kid, I know it's hard." He forced his eye open, attempting with all his willpower to stay awake. Dallas could see it in Johnny: something about him was different, something had changed.
Silence followed once again, and then suddenly Johnny spoke.
"It was my dad." He didn't look up as he gave a bitter laugh. "What a lame excuse for a father." Dally found himself suddenly intrigued by the repeating brick pattern of the opposing wall. He couldn't face Johnny. Johnny had never spoken about his home life- his personal feelings- with such clarity before. It was as if he was growing; the shame wasn't written all over him anymore.
Dallas suddenly felt desperate. He didn't want Johnny to change...
"Johnny," he ordered in an attempt to take control, "I can tell you're having a hard time breathing. Let me see your back. I need to see how bad..." Dally sucked in his breath, unable to finish his sentence.
He didn't want to be left behind.