New Life: Chapter One

Bed or Roses

Victorious

The raw, red sun arose above the hills and palm trees of Los Angeles. The light shined through the large, open windows of the Vega house, stinging Victoria's weak, bloodshot, trembling eyes and her dear old piano. Pulling herself up into a seated position, the young woman stared down at the keys, trying to shut out the blinding rays of a sun risen too early.

Sitting here wasted and wounded...

At this old piano.

Trying hard to capture the moment...

This morning, I don't know.

Old, wilted, dead roses lined the entire instrument alongside the smell of beer and the sense of wasted time gone by. Staring at the blank sheet music page before her, Tori aligned her fingers over the keys she once loved and danced her fingers across. They no longer had meaning, even though she fought that horrid thought. The best times couldn't be over. This could not be the time when things change...Or maybe that time had already come long ago.

'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my head
And some man gave me nightmares;
Think that he's still in my bed

It was all so horrible to think about; she was so drunk she actually let herself think she had company in her empty house. The fact that she could have offered her house to anyone after what had happened...
As I dream about movies
They won't make of me when I'm dead

I'm a sob story; that's it. No poetry, no work of art. Just some kid who lost herself...who has nothing to show of it all. I fucked up. No one'll remember me when I die.

The dark rings of distilled blood staining her face around her eyes, her dry, aching mouth, her cracked, slit lips, and her wild, unkempt hair; they were all a reminder of how far she'd fallen. There was no running away from it. There was no waking up from this nightmare, because it's life now. Her swollen, blurred eyes draining tears down her tender, gray-hued cheeks, Victoria caught sight of a single drop hitting her keys. I guess I can still cry...I cry every day. Somewhere in the old house; the house that once held beauty, promise, and the genesis of brand new dreams, there were pictures. Maybe they were together, maybe they were scattered out throughout the mess and rubble. There were pictures of them; her long, red hair and loving, childlike eyes and smile. His long, thick, dark hair beside her long, ravenblack locks and pale makeup. His kind eyes and long, two strand twists. Finally, her long, brunette hair and smile that so resembled her sister's. Her name is Trina...Not sure what her last name is anymore. They old framed photographs were coated with dust and cob webs, having been left alone for years, maybe close to a decade.

With an ironclad fist, I wake up...
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head
While we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love, the truth

Hollywood Arts was beautiful; living art. There was love, hope, dreams, friendship, family, people to help one another. It was a dream drenched in comfort and warmth. Why'd all that go away? Why'd we have to grow up? What the hell am I even talking about? I'm only nineteen...it's not supposed to be like this. I'm too young...but what's that worth? The sun never really seems to rise on my life anymore. I don't believe in love...Truth is, I'm living a nightmare, and there's no fixing that. I wish I had them beside me; I'd keep them forever...

I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails

Their numbers and email addresses long since gone, the Hollywood Arts gang was nothing more than a memory. Maybe they went on, without Tori. Maybe they forgot each other, lived their dreams, or just walked away to something else.

Well I'm so far away
Each step that I take's on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes;

I'd give each night
To see through this payphone
Still I run out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you
I just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is true

And I'm alone. I can't change that; I can't get away from that. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I'm...I'm sorry. And they'd take me back...but that's not happening. So I create my friends again...out of memories, and I hold them tight. Especially you. You're like a little kitten.

Now as you close your eyes...
Know I'll be thinking about you.

I tuck my beloved ones in tightly under their warm sheets, stroke the hair out of their faces, kiss their foreheads, and let them go to sleep knowing I love them.
While my mistress she calls me...
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight, I won't be alone
But you know that don't mean I'm not lonely

One more tear drop fell. This time, it stained an old photograph; a photograph of friends. Of love. It meant something. Something wonderful. When was the photo taken?

I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend...

I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails

And lay you down

Goodnight, my angels. Thanks for making my life wonderful...even just for a little while. Goodnight, my friends. Then, the sun set over the hills, and the sky turned black. And the roses fell from the sky like tear drops falling from weathered eyes.