A/N: Ok, I'm done writing another chapter… awesome. Thanks for the reviews everybody and thanks to those new reviewers who just found this story. I enjoy reading your thoughts and I will remember you forever. Oh and the song Breathe No More is not mine, it belongs to (the writer) Amy Lee, I'm just using it cuz' I like it. So don't sue me!! Ok now it's time to read so it is time to say ciao and all those other great sayings for goodbye!!
Misrepresented Truths
Chapter 6
I sat on the motel bed just staring at him… how the hell did he find me? I had run away from Dad, Uncle Sam, and everyone that really knew me. So how did he find me? How in the hell did Bobby Singer find me when nobody else could. I will tell you how; he knew where I was going… so he just drove along the path that he knew I would take and took his chances. He must've helped mom build the car so that is probably how he found the exact motel I just happened to be staying in. He had burst into the room right when I was getting out of the shower and my first reaction was to kill him… and in a not so nice way. But when I found myself staring at the bearded face of the man that had basically been a 'father' to me all I really wanted to do was run. Run from him, from Dad, from Sam… from my life; all I really thought about doing was picking up my small knife that was on the table, and forcefully drive it across my flesh. What? My whole life has changed forever… turning my own reality on its head; I am allowed to have some suicidal thoughts on the subject. It wouldn't work though, even though it would take my pain away it would make his and Sam's pain worse. I found the irony in that idea kinda quickly, even if there wasn't any to find. I have done it before… I mean I have tried to kill myself before, I have the scars to prove that but now all I can think about was Uncle Sam and my friends and mom. It was weird, I mean I barely knew– no not barely– I don't know the man that is now my Uncle and now all I can think of is his feelings. Great, now I'm thinking of feelings and all that crap, I've never thought of the emotional sides to anyone let alone myself; I cut emotions off when I found out my father had died and I am determined as hell itself to keep it that way. Knowing what I know now I can't go to that place… I don't think I ever could, I blocked it out labeling that day as a sign of weakness and promising myself that no matter what happens I will never be weak again. But knowing what that blonde bitch told me last night I am thinking about it, I promised myself I wouldn't go back to that place so basically all that really means is I have to be 'ice-bitch' to my father for a year now… at least until he dies again. Why'd he even come back knowing that would make me have to lose him again… and trust me all that'll do is damage my psyche even more.
He had called them awhile ago and apparently now all we were doing was waiting. He is giving me the silent treatment and leaving me to my thoughts… which in turn will eat me alive eventually. I'm staring at him now and I can see the question forming in his head. Why did I leave? Why did I run? Simple really, I couldn't handle it… my dad had come back expecting me to be that five year old that he abandoned last time he saw me. I couldn't handle seeing my father after fifteen years of his absence (I am approximating or rounding whatever you call it)… I wigged, I bet you that anyone would do the exact same thing in my shoes.
I can't take it anymore damnitt; the silence is driving me insane. I need some form of noise or anything really to keep my own thoughts from turning on each other, or even worse, turning on me… now that would be a real shame. I jumped off that stupid… uncomfortable bed and walked toward the door. Now hearing Bobby's feet hit the floor as if to run after me was comedy if I had ever heard of the word. I couldn't go anywhere, he took my keys from my grasp when he got here, and if I ran it would be so easy to find me on my own two feet. Nah, I wasn't going anywhere, wanted to… really, really wanted to but wouldn't.
"Relax Sparky, you got my keys remember, not like I can go anywhere" I tell him as I kneel to the ground and pull a keyboard out behind the dresser thing that is against the wall. Now normally he would have an annoyed come back for the name 'Sparky' but now he just sits back down while I set up my new keyboard.
I had found it early this morning in my trunk… mom knew how much I loved to write my own songs and all that so I have music to help me write. In my duffel I had some dingy journal type thing that had all my written songs in it so I pulled that out and set it on the keyboard. Now everyone normally calls it sappy but I think the opposite, writing and singing calms me down and right now that is what I desperately need before I throw my fucking wrist through a wall. Within seconds I cover the keyboard with my hands and I start to play, I don't know what I'm playing nor do I now what is gonna come out of my mouth but I don't really care. I vaguely hear Bobby's foot falls going to the door, I vaguely hear the door opening and two people coming into the room. There men I know that by the sell of there cologne. I look into the mirror I only half remember seating myself in front of and I see the two men that I had initially ran away from behind me.
I've
been looking in the mirror for so long. Take a breath and I try to
draw from my spirits well.
That I've come to believe
my soul's on the other side.
All the little pieces falling,
shatter.
Shards of me,
Too sharp to put back together.
Too
small to matter,
But big enough to cut me into so many little
pieces.
If I try to touch her,
And I bleed,
I bleed,
And
I breathe,
I breathe no more.
Yet again you refuse to drink like a
stubborn child.
Lie to me,
Convince me that I've been sick
forever.
And all of this,
Will make sense when I get
better.
But I know the difference,
Between myself and my
reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder,
Which of us do you
love.
So
I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe no...
Bleed,
I
bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe,
I breathe-
I breathe no
more.
It would make me feel so much better to just get up and run like I did last time I saw him but because stupid Bobby took my keys away I can't do that. Damn Bobby for knowing where to find me in the first place and damn my stupid father for screwing my head up so much that all of this makes the type of sense that doesn't. And damn myself for not actually running away sooner or for telling Grandpa John to go screw himself when he told me my father was dead to begin with. I look back into the mirror after having stopped playing for minutes on end and I can't take it. I don't understand it but I know I'm not hallucinating and damnitt cuz' I'm not. The room seems smaller to me now, smaller that it did before that door opened and all my dreams and hopes and hallucinations crashed down around me.
I run to the bathroom and lock myself inside, cuz' really where is the worst place to go when you feel like the world is caving in around you, and I stare at my reflection repeating my mantra that I have been telling myself over and over for the past 24, 48 hours… however long it's been. Don't panic, don't panic, and don't panic. I keep telling myself that and I notice that I'm mouthing the words as I think them. This really can't get any worse but as soon as that idea runs through my mind it jinxed the whole shebang and I started hyperventilating. Fate must really hate me, I mean to put me through this much hell over a father that I thought was dead; come on. My breaths are coming in short gasps as I try to control my breathing… it's not working, god damnitt why does everyone hate me. I mean I'm not that bad… am I? I distantly hear a voice that I remember from last night outside the door, sounding like laughing and telling the guys about the great job their doing trying not to freak me out. Of course that's before the door is kicked open and I have Sam trying to get me to focus on him. How can I focus on him when I trying to focus on my breathing and get it down to a normal level for fuck sakes.
"Breathe" he tells me, "Just breathe." No shit Sherlock what do you think I'm doing. Trying to kill myself because believe me there are easier ways… more painful but easier.
Sam is suddenly shoved out of the way by Bobby, he calls my name numerous times but I can't hear him. The only thing I hear is my breath coming and going and my heart pumping in my ears. I fiercely shut my eyes to try and make the noise and the hyperventilation stop but all it does is make it worse. Ironic huh? How before I couldn't stand the silence and now I can't stand the noise. The last thing I hear before my world becomes a black valley of darkness is my dad (I think it's my dad) yelling at both Bobby and Sam to move out of the way.
A/N: There we go, chapter six. Review and tell me if you like it and I'm sorry for the wait I'll try to post the next chapter sooner. Did you hear me? I said I'll try so if anyone wants to hurt me for not updating I'm sorry but I really value my life. So yeah review and hopefully your reviews will cause my muse to kick it into gear.