My family worry about me a lot. My sister, Afsheen, says when she sees me I'm either a tonne thinner or fatter than before. My weight acts like a metronome, one way, then the other. She says I look exhausted and that if something is wrong, I should talk to her.
The thing is, I can't, because I don't know what's wrong. Everything, nothing, I don't know! I'm sat down, curled up, on a rock. Next to Afsheen. We're curled up together, because it's cold and we're twins, and awfully close ones. I know I have my family there for me, but Afsheen just tells me to pull myself together and that people have it worse than me.
Do you know how bad that makes me feel? I sit and complain about my own problems when there are people starving.
When people of my own religion are out there being branded as terrorists just because they shared some beliefs with extremists.
When there are children being beaten and abused.
And here I am, loved by my family, accepted by the guys in my dorm (not anyone else though), well fed and always with a shelter over my head. What right have I to complain? I'm a horrible, selfish person. What is a horrible, selfish person worth? Nothing. Less than nothing.
After all, the people in my dorm are worse off than me...but I still feel so down. I can't help it, but I want to.
I'm doing bad at school. I look at the things I get from my teachers and I feel there is no hope. I never know what to do with myself, and people always say it's my choice, but I can't make that choice, I want others to make that choice for me because I have no hope of making the right one. They would do better.
The thing is, I've felt this way for a long time, which means chances of it changing are so low it doesn't bare thinking about. That's the worst thing about it, of course.
And the worst thing, the worst of the worst, is I know my own God hates me. Because I'm a monster. A bloodsucking thing not worthy of standing on the same grass He created. I am a vampire, and I have to strike down victims in the forests...I'm not worth saving, and I'm not worth the bother. That's really all I've ever known. Ugh, is there any way out of this? I don't feel there is.
Sunday, 29 June 2014
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
Nursey, Nursey, part III: Sickly Sigmund
Sigmund
After throwing up for the third time into a vase, the flowers from within now scattered across the floor, I glanced at the window and thought for a moment. It looked like I would have to cancel the afternoon's show, the state I was in then. I sat down, feeling in a rotten mood, clutching my stomach. A quick dial on my phone and I spoke to my manager, telling him that I was sick and my worries about having to cancel the show, and we agreed to see how I felt later. I had a lie down and a glass of water and fell asleep.
A few hours later, when I woke up, I didn't feel as nauseous as before, and I felt really bad about not being quick enough to find anything better than a vase of flowers, so I got to work cleaning the vase out. I was hungry, but considering how I had been earlier I chose to ignore it. The smell of the washing up liquid I was using was getting to me though. I don't know, I'd never noticed it smelled so good before, and it set my stomach growling again. I abandoned those efforts and went to the window before I could go funny and start eating the soap. Well, if I was considering that, I was definitely sick, or perhaps a lot hungrier than I thought, so I gave in and made myself a snack, but ugh, I still wanted to eat the damn dish soap. I sat down again, grumpy and sick and I checked the time. Five minutes to go time. Was it worth it? Was I well enough to go out there and perform? Well, I didn't want to disappoint the fans, but neither did I want to throw up in front of them...In the end I bit the bullet and performed, and guess what?
I threw up into a tophat live on stage. I reached over to get something for another trick, when suddenly the nausea came back and I knew at once what was going to happen, and yet again I had no time to get to a toilet, so I grabbed the nearest thing that would hold it, barely thinking, and brought up my afternoon snack and all the water I'd drunk. I glanced up at the waiting audience, just as shocked as they were and awfully embarrassed, put the hat down, gave a flourish of my hand and faked a faint. My manager came on and apologised to the audience in their native language, carefully carting me off the stage and back to my trailer.
"Sigmund?" He asked uncertainly. I opened one eye at once. "That was a silly stunt to pull."
"So was going on stage..."
He brushed my hair back off my forehead, a fatherly gesture, and bid me get some rest.
I spent the rest of the week awfully tired, and the throwing up didn't die down. I stayed in my night clothes, eating dilute soup for a while, and I did end up drinking some of the damn washing up liquid, I just really wanted it, and it made me even sicker, of course, and I spent the rest of the day curled up in bed. Obviously I'd done something stupid, and I was paying for it. It was the very next morning, where, feeling a lot better and headed home, I got up and got dressed, and amazingly I found I had gained a little bit of weight, even though I'd been eating far less than before. It was only a slight weight gain, barely visible, but I could definitely feel my trousers were tighter than normal. I put my hand to my stomach and it felt bloated, not fat...it would probably stop when the bug was passed, I guessed.
After throwing up for the third time into a vase, the flowers from within now scattered across the floor, I glanced at the window and thought for a moment. It looked like I would have to cancel the afternoon's show, the state I was in then. I sat down, feeling in a rotten mood, clutching my stomach. A quick dial on my phone and I spoke to my manager, telling him that I was sick and my worries about having to cancel the show, and we agreed to see how I felt later. I had a lie down and a glass of water and fell asleep.
A few hours later, when I woke up, I didn't feel as nauseous as before, and I felt really bad about not being quick enough to find anything better than a vase of flowers, so I got to work cleaning the vase out. I was hungry, but considering how I had been earlier I chose to ignore it. The smell of the washing up liquid I was using was getting to me though. I don't know, I'd never noticed it smelled so good before, and it set my stomach growling again. I abandoned those efforts and went to the window before I could go funny and start eating the soap. Well, if I was considering that, I was definitely sick, or perhaps a lot hungrier than I thought, so I gave in and made myself a snack, but ugh, I still wanted to eat the damn dish soap. I sat down again, grumpy and sick and I checked the time. Five minutes to go time. Was it worth it? Was I well enough to go out there and perform? Well, I didn't want to disappoint the fans, but neither did I want to throw up in front of them...In the end I bit the bullet and performed, and guess what?
I threw up into a tophat live on stage. I reached over to get something for another trick, when suddenly the nausea came back and I knew at once what was going to happen, and yet again I had no time to get to a toilet, so I grabbed the nearest thing that would hold it, barely thinking, and brought up my afternoon snack and all the water I'd drunk. I glanced up at the waiting audience, just as shocked as they were and awfully embarrassed, put the hat down, gave a flourish of my hand and faked a faint. My manager came on and apologised to the audience in their native language, carefully carting me off the stage and back to my trailer.
"Sigmund?" He asked uncertainly. I opened one eye at once. "That was a silly stunt to pull."
"So was going on stage..."
He brushed my hair back off my forehead, a fatherly gesture, and bid me get some rest.
I spent the rest of the week awfully tired, and the throwing up didn't die down. I stayed in my night clothes, eating dilute soup for a while, and I did end up drinking some of the damn washing up liquid, I just really wanted it, and it made me even sicker, of course, and I spent the rest of the day curled up in bed. Obviously I'd done something stupid, and I was paying for it. It was the very next morning, where, feeling a lot better and headed home, I got up and got dressed, and amazingly I found I had gained a little bit of weight, even though I'd been eating far less than before. It was only a slight weight gain, barely visible, but I could definitely feel my trousers were tighter than normal. I put my hand to my stomach and it felt bloated, not fat...it would probably stop when the bug was passed, I guessed.
Monday, 16 June 2014
Mystery Case Files
Subject statements surrounding the death of Sigmund Brauer, young celebrity found with multiple wounds to the face and torso by Manager Travis Pelletier morning Monday the 16th of June, 2014. Body was found in the bed of Mr Brauer's touring trailer at 5:15am that morning. Statements from possible witnesses, relatives, friends and any implicated persons or alibis are as follows.
Travis Pelletier
Age: 47
Relation to Victim: Manager
Profession: Professional manager of famous persons
Statement:
Sigmund seemed fine the previous night. He was happy after another job well done and the fans were entertained, and as long as they were happy, he was happy. He always locks his trailer at night when he goes to sleep, and nobody has an extra key to that thing, not even me, but the door didn't seem forced, or I'd have been suspicious immediately. The door was unlocked, I went in, talking, and then when I looked his eyes were wide open, and there was blood everywhere, so I ran to the phone and called the ambulance, and I went to him to see how bad it was and he was pale, cold as ice, not breathing...I last saw him after the show, 7 PM, when we agreed on the time I was to wake him up the next morning and just...talking...he was a bit put out, I guess, because he had had quite a fight with his boyfriend before this happened, and that was where he lived and all, with his boyfriend, because he can't go back to his mother and father, they...a lot happened that they didn't approve of, so he was happy that night, but he's got these days when he's lower than the dirt...
Duke McCarty
Age: 16
Relation to Victim: Sexual partner
Profession: None
Statement:
This...this has come as a bit of a shock...
Where was I over the weekend? At home, with my parents. They can confirm that, I guess...I was watching TV on Saturday, staying in, and Sunday I went to a party. My best friend Michael was having a party, since he was turning 18 and stuff...any of the guys there can confirm that...
The fight? It was just something silly, I feel awful about it now...it was just a spat about the state of that skanky trailer of his. He wanted to keep it the same, and I was just trying to say it was filthy and needed a clean and how it staying in the driveway uglied up the whole house and...
I last saw him Thursday night, a half hour after the fight when he got in his car and drove off for his tour...otherwise I've watched the TV broadcasts of his performances, but that's it.
Kyle Bloodworth-Thomason
Age: 17
Relation to Victim: Former classmate, known to not get along with the deceased. Suspect of murder for attitude towards deceased.
Profession: Hairdresser~apprenticeship
Statement:
I don't really know what to say. I mean, the last time I saw Sigmund was on Wednesday. There aren't that many people in Galaxy Hills, I guess, so you see most people who are out and about most days. I didn't speak to him, I never usually do...are you quite sure he's dead? Really? Quite sure?
Okay...okay, Sigmund's dead...
No matter how much I disliked someone I would never seriously wish them dead. I have made the odd threat to people, but never, you know, wanting to actually go through with it...most of the threats were to my boyfriend anyway...in a joking manner, of course! As much as he has annoyed and bullied me in the past, and I'm quite sure some of the things he did were illegal when it came to what he did to my face with his 'merchendazzle', I would never ever take a weapon to him. I've kicked him up the backside before, but that really is the furthest I've gone.
On Sunday? I was at my house.
Uh, no, nobody could confirm that.
Well...
No, never mind...
But I haven't done anything wrong! You can't just-
Fine! I have an elf at home who can vouch for me and I had my boyfriend round...I was nowhere near Sigmund, his trailer or his stupid merchendazzle, and the only knives I used that night were for cooking! Will you kindly let me go home now?
I'm not over eager at all, I just really need the bathroom.
Katja Bauer
Age: 46
Relation to Victim: Mother
Profession: Electrical technician
Statement:
Every parent has problems with their children at times, I am no exception. I'll admit I argued with my son, but your claims that I barred him from the house when he was 15 are not true. When he was on tour one time I found out he was with this other boy and we had a little dispute about him and relationships, and there are certain things I don't accept, as there is with every mother, and Sigmund did not accept that I did not accept them, so he refused to come home.
As for this murder, I don't know what to say. My husband and I were here to visit our son and congratulate him on his success, and it has been years since we saw him. We were going to meet with him in just a couple of days, and now I just feel...numb...
Michael Johnson
Age: 17
Relation to Victim: Friend. D. McCarty's alibi.
Profession: Cashier at local convenience store
Statement:
Yeah, Duke was at my party, but he left early to take care of some business or something. Couldn't be work because he hasn't got a job...has he done something wrong?
Joshua McCarty
Age: 40
Relation to Victim: Father of suspect D. McCarty
Profession: Teacher in adult education
Statement:
I'm pretty sure Duke was out all night. He didn't come home Sunday or Monday, I think he was with friends the whole time.
Scrivener Elf
Age: Unknown
Relation to Victim: K. Bloodworth-Thomason's alibi
Profession: Servant
Statement:
I spent Sunday night taking a bath while Kyle went out with his idiot friends. There must have been a fair on or something.
No fair?
Okay then.
I don't know where they went, but they weren't here. I think they came back after I fell asleep though because in the morning they were in bed together.
Tobias Cranapple
Age: 16
Relation to victim: Fan. K. Bloodworth-Thomason's alibi
Profession: Lifeguard
Statement:
On Sunday? Yeah, I remember Sunday, I woke up, went to the Frosty-Mart for a Frosty Freezey Freeze and some candy, went to the park for a little bit, spent a while on the swings, and then I had promised to babysit for Lenny...but before that I went to get my boyfriend so I wouldn't be alone with the toddler, y'know? I mean, Kyle hates kids, but still, so he was with me when we babysat for Lenny, and then we went for a walk. Well, we were just wandering. This group of guys pushed through us and kind of separated us for a while, because I think they were armed, so we ran for it, and when we met back up Kyle was in high spirits, and we went to his house and went to bed. Sleepover, yay!
The men?
No, I didn't see their faces. They were all wearing fancy dress masks. There was three of them.
Travis Pelletier
Age: 47
Relation to Victim: Manager
Profession: Professional manager of famous persons
Statement:
Sigmund seemed fine the previous night. He was happy after another job well done and the fans were entertained, and as long as they were happy, he was happy. He always locks his trailer at night when he goes to sleep, and nobody has an extra key to that thing, not even me, but the door didn't seem forced, or I'd have been suspicious immediately. The door was unlocked, I went in, talking, and then when I looked his eyes were wide open, and there was blood everywhere, so I ran to the phone and called the ambulance, and I went to him to see how bad it was and he was pale, cold as ice, not breathing...I last saw him after the show, 7 PM, when we agreed on the time I was to wake him up the next morning and just...talking...he was a bit put out, I guess, because he had had quite a fight with his boyfriend before this happened, and that was where he lived and all, with his boyfriend, because he can't go back to his mother and father, they...a lot happened that they didn't approve of, so he was happy that night, but he's got these days when he's lower than the dirt...
Duke McCarty
Age: 16
Relation to Victim: Sexual partner
Profession: None
Statement:
This...this has come as a bit of a shock...
Where was I over the weekend? At home, with my parents. They can confirm that, I guess...I was watching TV on Saturday, staying in, and Sunday I went to a party. My best friend Michael was having a party, since he was turning 18 and stuff...any of the guys there can confirm that...
The fight? It was just something silly, I feel awful about it now...it was just a spat about the state of that skanky trailer of his. He wanted to keep it the same, and I was just trying to say it was filthy and needed a clean and how it staying in the driveway uglied up the whole house and...
I last saw him Thursday night, a half hour after the fight when he got in his car and drove off for his tour...otherwise I've watched the TV broadcasts of his performances, but that's it.
Kyle Bloodworth-Thomason
Age: 17
Relation to Victim: Former classmate, known to not get along with the deceased. Suspect of murder for attitude towards deceased.
Profession: Hairdresser~apprenticeship
Statement:
I don't really know what to say. I mean, the last time I saw Sigmund was on Wednesday. There aren't that many people in Galaxy Hills, I guess, so you see most people who are out and about most days. I didn't speak to him, I never usually do...are you quite sure he's dead? Really? Quite sure?
Okay...okay, Sigmund's dead...
No matter how much I disliked someone I would never seriously wish them dead. I have made the odd threat to people, but never, you know, wanting to actually go through with it...most of the threats were to my boyfriend anyway...in a joking manner, of course! As much as he has annoyed and bullied me in the past, and I'm quite sure some of the things he did were illegal when it came to what he did to my face with his 'merchendazzle', I would never ever take a weapon to him. I've kicked him up the backside before, but that really is the furthest I've gone.
On Sunday? I was at my house.
Uh, no, nobody could confirm that.
Well...
No, never mind...
But I haven't done anything wrong! You can't just-
Fine! I have an elf at home who can vouch for me and I had my boyfriend round...I was nowhere near Sigmund, his trailer or his stupid merchendazzle, and the only knives I used that night were for cooking! Will you kindly let me go home now?
I'm not over eager at all, I just really need the bathroom.
Katja Bauer
Age: 46
Relation to Victim: Mother
Profession: Electrical technician
Statement:
Every parent has problems with their children at times, I am no exception. I'll admit I argued with my son, but your claims that I barred him from the house when he was 15 are not true. When he was on tour one time I found out he was with this other boy and we had a little dispute about him and relationships, and there are certain things I don't accept, as there is with every mother, and Sigmund did not accept that I did not accept them, so he refused to come home.
As for this murder, I don't know what to say. My husband and I were here to visit our son and congratulate him on his success, and it has been years since we saw him. We were going to meet with him in just a couple of days, and now I just feel...numb...
Michael Johnson
Age: 17
Relation to Victim: Friend. D. McCarty's alibi.
Profession: Cashier at local convenience store
Statement:
Yeah, Duke was at my party, but he left early to take care of some business or something. Couldn't be work because he hasn't got a job...has he done something wrong?
Joshua McCarty
Age: 40
Relation to Victim: Father of suspect D. McCarty
Profession: Teacher in adult education
Statement:
I'm pretty sure Duke was out all night. He didn't come home Sunday or Monday, I think he was with friends the whole time.
Scrivener Elf
Age: Unknown
Relation to Victim: K. Bloodworth-Thomason's alibi
Profession: Servant
Statement:
I spent Sunday night taking a bath while Kyle went out with his idiot friends. There must have been a fair on or something.
No fair?
Okay then.
I don't know where they went, but they weren't here. I think they came back after I fell asleep though because in the morning they were in bed together.
Tobias Cranapple
Age: 16
Relation to victim: Fan. K. Bloodworth-Thomason's alibi
Profession: Lifeguard
Statement:
On Sunday? Yeah, I remember Sunday, I woke up, went to the Frosty-Mart for a Frosty Freezey Freeze and some candy, went to the park for a little bit, spent a while on the swings, and then I had promised to babysit for Lenny...but before that I went to get my boyfriend so I wouldn't be alone with the toddler, y'know? I mean, Kyle hates kids, but still, so he was with me when we babysat for Lenny, and then we went for a walk. Well, we were just wandering. This group of guys pushed through us and kind of separated us for a while, because I think they were armed, so we ran for it, and when we met back up Kyle was in high spirits, and we went to his house and went to bed. Sleepover, yay!
The men?
No, I didn't see their faces. They were all wearing fancy dress masks. There was three of them.
Sunday, 15 June 2014
Nursey, Nursey part II: Pop Goes Paradise
Sigmund
The foul mood went on for a few days, and then I went back to Galaxy Hills, waiting for Necronomicon to be alone and available to talk. I sat in the park, waiting, keeping my face hidden by a hood and sunglasses. Stupid book, could have at least have had the courtesy to be there on time.
When the blasted book finally appeared, I spent the first moment glaring at it.
"My apologies, it's hard to get away from Kyle at the best of times."
"You're late."
"And I've apologised. But anyway, it really is good to see you again." He came in close and I pushed him away. "Is something wrong?"
I looked away. I was being huffy, bratty, and my God would I kick myself for that later. "You certainly know how to behave, don't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm just saying, I have never been more humiliated before in my life!"
It seemed to take him a moment to figure out what I was talking about. "You don't understand what it's like, the way that boy treats me! I live in fear of that child! He mistreats me horribly!" And he went into detail over awful things that had happened to him while with Kyle, practically begging me to steal him away, take him home...keep him safe...It almost brought tears to my eyes. When I returned to my trailer that afternoon, the book was held to my chest. I couldn't let the precious thing live in such fear, so I took it on my travels with me, on my tours. He never left the trailer.
Several months later
Necronomicon
Waiting around the trailer all night for your lover to return home certainly is not how I like to spend my Saturdays. In fact, I found my time waiting for Sigmund to be some of the most unpleasant moments of my time, worse than being used as a footstool or a colouring book, among other things. I would float there, night after night with nothing to do with myself, waiting for him to come home, and then? Then he smelled of unusual things. Every now and then we still had our intimate moments, but it just wasn't the same to me.
"What sort of time do you call this?" I asked as Sigmund finally came through the door, stretching.
"What on earth are you talking about? I was working."
"You're always out working, and then you complain like your little performances are hard!"
"What, you think it's easy?"
"You just do a few tricks for idiots and watch the girls cream over you! And then every single fucking night you come home smelling of a new perfume!"
He took a step back, looking offended. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
I glared. "Well, the way you keep me locked up in here-"
"That was your choice! Don't you dare go blaming me because you can't be asked to haul your leather-bound ass out of bed!"
I gasped. "How dare you?!"
"I dare, and I dare good, because you know what? I am sick of your jealousy, I am sick of your complaining, and I am sick of how awful and flaccid you are in bed!"
"...Why don't you just fuck off?!"
"Because this is my home! You, on the other hand, can gladly fuck off back to Kyle if you're so un-fucking-happy here! You know what? You have been annoying me for so long, and I've been kidding myself for ages thinking this could actually ever work, but no, it will never, ever work! Get out!" He pointed up at one corner of his trailer, and I made no move. "Well?"
"Well w-what?" I asked, uncertain.
"Go away!"
As much as I hate to say it, I tried to plead with him, but he would have none of it. To him I was hot then cold, yes then no...and in the end I did as I was told, finding myself in Kyle's living room. He was asleep on the sofa when I got there, books scattered around himself, and he appeared to be hugging his elf tight enough to keep him there. I sighed, resting myself on his chest, and when he woke up, caught sight of me there, he asked where I had been, what happened, if I was okay...
The foul mood went on for a few days, and then I went back to Galaxy Hills, waiting for Necronomicon to be alone and available to talk. I sat in the park, waiting, keeping my face hidden by a hood and sunglasses. Stupid book, could have at least have had the courtesy to be there on time.
When the blasted book finally appeared, I spent the first moment glaring at it.
"My apologies, it's hard to get away from Kyle at the best of times."
"You're late."
"And I've apologised. But anyway, it really is good to see you again." He came in close and I pushed him away. "Is something wrong?"
I looked away. I was being huffy, bratty, and my God would I kick myself for that later. "You certainly know how to behave, don't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm just saying, I have never been more humiliated before in my life!"
It seemed to take him a moment to figure out what I was talking about. "You don't understand what it's like, the way that boy treats me! I live in fear of that child! He mistreats me horribly!" And he went into detail over awful things that had happened to him while with Kyle, practically begging me to steal him away, take him home...keep him safe...It almost brought tears to my eyes. When I returned to my trailer that afternoon, the book was held to my chest. I couldn't let the precious thing live in such fear, so I took it on my travels with me, on my tours. He never left the trailer.
Several months later
Necronomicon
Waiting around the trailer all night for your lover to return home certainly is not how I like to spend my Saturdays. In fact, I found my time waiting for Sigmund to be some of the most unpleasant moments of my time, worse than being used as a footstool or a colouring book, among other things. I would float there, night after night with nothing to do with myself, waiting for him to come home, and then? Then he smelled of unusual things. Every now and then we still had our intimate moments, but it just wasn't the same to me.
"What sort of time do you call this?" I asked as Sigmund finally came through the door, stretching.
"What on earth are you talking about? I was working."
"You're always out working, and then you complain like your little performances are hard!"
"What, you think it's easy?"
"You just do a few tricks for idiots and watch the girls cream over you! And then every single fucking night you come home smelling of a new perfume!"
He took a step back, looking offended. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
I glared. "Well, the way you keep me locked up in here-"
"That was your choice! Don't you dare go blaming me because you can't be asked to haul your leather-bound ass out of bed!"
I gasped. "How dare you?!"
"I dare, and I dare good, because you know what? I am sick of your jealousy, I am sick of your complaining, and I am sick of how awful and flaccid you are in bed!"
"...Why don't you just fuck off?!"
"Because this is my home! You, on the other hand, can gladly fuck off back to Kyle if you're so un-fucking-happy here! You know what? You have been annoying me for so long, and I've been kidding myself for ages thinking this could actually ever work, but no, it will never, ever work! Get out!" He pointed up at one corner of his trailer, and I made no move. "Well?"
"Well w-what?" I asked, uncertain.
"Go away!"
As much as I hate to say it, I tried to plead with him, but he would have none of it. To him I was hot then cold, yes then no...and in the end I did as I was told, finding myself in Kyle's living room. He was asleep on the sofa when I got there, books scattered around himself, and he appeared to be hugging his elf tight enough to keep him there. I sighed, resting myself on his chest, and when he woke up, caught sight of me there, he asked where I had been, what happened, if I was okay...
Saturday, 14 June 2014
Nursey, Nursey, Much Controversy
Kyle
I think one of the strangest sights I ever saw was...well, I'd have to start from the beginning to explain it. I was coming home from school, those irritating ninnies who always follow me around calling themselves my friends. I got home and they followed me in and we all heard the noise. There was a loud noise sounding from my bedroom. It's quite difficult to explain, kind of like bed springs, a high, constant moan. With a frown, I sat, trying to think who it could be. Only the Necronomicon and Scrivener Elf were around when I was out. They were in my room, so, I thought, why bother knocking? They hadn't bothered with pleasantries and politeness, so why should I?
Turns out I should have to protect myself. The door was slightly ajar though, so I pushed it open, and it was as though I was in an overly detailed nightmare. It was surreal. I stepped into a room warm as a sauna and I saw a sight that I didn't even think could exist. Like, really, how do you fuck a book? My apologies to put it like that, but when you see a man and a book getting at it in your bed, thoughts of courtesy do tend to fly out the window. Worse still, as if it could get worse, my Necronomicon was doing the dirty deed with...with...
WITH SIGMUND!
Necronomicon
Ever since I first found out he existed, I've found my mind entranced by Sigmund the Sorcerer. There was something about him, almost this glowing aura. He was beautiful. He had the loveliest eyes, unusual colour, and such a gorgeous body. He was so talented and that voice was just irresistible. I loved watching him perform, and I often would watch him when Kyle was away. Then one day, one glorious day, I met him in person, and I knew at once, at once, that he was the one for me. I was in love. And even better, I was able to keep in touch, and Sigmund is good to his fans, and...well...some things happened, but I couldn't exactly leave my place. Often I was tucked under Kyle's arms or cuddled to his chest. Those rare times I could spend with Sigmund in my sights were bliss, purest bliss. It was my idea. I guess it's the curse of being so alone most of your life, and a little bit of reckless affection was like...
Everything I ever dreamed of happened in those few hours. I was loved, and there was passion, and it was the first time I really found it didn't feel lonely in these same old walls. It was a wonderful feeling. I was loved...
"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"
We sprung apart, and there in the doorway stood Kyle. He looked furious, cheeks blazing red. His eyes were fixed on Sigmund's face so he would not have to look at anything he really, desperately did not want to see. In a moment of cowardice, I disappeared, hiding myself in a drawer in the living room. I could hear the shrieking, which went on for a good long while, and then silence, and then banging as he came to find me. Sigmund was gone. I knew that much. Doors opening and slamming, books being torn off shelves and thrown to the floor, cupboards and drawers practically torn from their places...and then a bright light blinding me as he found me. He had gone even redder than before, and he reached in and pulled me out...
Sigmund
You can feel rather betrayed when a partner just runs out on you the moment you get in the slightest bit of trouble. Ugh, the mood I was in right then, after leaving that tiny little room with the stupid, scratchy sheets. I just wanted to take something in my hands and tear it to bits. As it was, I lay on my sofa, hands behind my head and glaring at the ceiling. I stay like that well into the night, even though I have to be up for a performance the next morning. I didn't sleep, even though I was very tired. I remember using caffiene and sugar to power through the performance. All that buzzed through my head for the day was that I had been caught with that untrustworthy book, by Kyle of all people. Just imagine the people he could give this to. It would be big gossip. And not just that, it was also the embarrassment, the hurt, that I'd just been left there to bare the brunt of it...I'd ended up in tears the moment I got out of sight of the public.
I think one of the strangest sights I ever saw was...well, I'd have to start from the beginning to explain it. I was coming home from school, those irritating ninnies who always follow me around calling themselves my friends. I got home and they followed me in and we all heard the noise. There was a loud noise sounding from my bedroom. It's quite difficult to explain, kind of like bed springs, a high, constant moan. With a frown, I sat, trying to think who it could be. Only the Necronomicon and Scrivener Elf were around when I was out. They were in my room, so, I thought, why bother knocking? They hadn't bothered with pleasantries and politeness, so why should I?
Turns out I should have to protect myself. The door was slightly ajar though, so I pushed it open, and it was as though I was in an overly detailed nightmare. It was surreal. I stepped into a room warm as a sauna and I saw a sight that I didn't even think could exist. Like, really, how do you fuck a book? My apologies to put it like that, but when you see a man and a book getting at it in your bed, thoughts of courtesy do tend to fly out the window. Worse still, as if it could get worse, my Necronomicon was doing the dirty deed with...with...
WITH SIGMUND!
Necronomicon
Ever since I first found out he existed, I've found my mind entranced by Sigmund the Sorcerer. There was something about him, almost this glowing aura. He was beautiful. He had the loveliest eyes, unusual colour, and such a gorgeous body. He was so talented and that voice was just irresistible. I loved watching him perform, and I often would watch him when Kyle was away. Then one day, one glorious day, I met him in person, and I knew at once, at once, that he was the one for me. I was in love. And even better, I was able to keep in touch, and Sigmund is good to his fans, and...well...some things happened, but I couldn't exactly leave my place. Often I was tucked under Kyle's arms or cuddled to his chest. Those rare times I could spend with Sigmund in my sights were bliss, purest bliss. It was my idea. I guess it's the curse of being so alone most of your life, and a little bit of reckless affection was like...
Everything I ever dreamed of happened in those few hours. I was loved, and there was passion, and it was the first time I really found it didn't feel lonely in these same old walls. It was a wonderful feeling. I was loved...
"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"
We sprung apart, and there in the doorway stood Kyle. He looked furious, cheeks blazing red. His eyes were fixed on Sigmund's face so he would not have to look at anything he really, desperately did not want to see. In a moment of cowardice, I disappeared, hiding myself in a drawer in the living room. I could hear the shrieking, which went on for a good long while, and then silence, and then banging as he came to find me. Sigmund was gone. I knew that much. Doors opening and slamming, books being torn off shelves and thrown to the floor, cupboards and drawers practically torn from their places...and then a bright light blinding me as he found me. He had gone even redder than before, and he reached in and pulled me out...
Sigmund
You can feel rather betrayed when a partner just runs out on you the moment you get in the slightest bit of trouble. Ugh, the mood I was in right then, after leaving that tiny little room with the stupid, scratchy sheets. I just wanted to take something in my hands and tear it to bits. As it was, I lay on my sofa, hands behind my head and glaring at the ceiling. I stay like that well into the night, even though I have to be up for a performance the next morning. I didn't sleep, even though I was very tired. I remember using caffiene and sugar to power through the performance. All that buzzed through my head for the day was that I had been caught with that untrustworthy book, by Kyle of all people. Just imagine the people he could give this to. It would be big gossip. And not just that, it was also the embarrassment, the hurt, that I'd just been left there to bare the brunt of it...I'd ended up in tears the moment I got out of sight of the public.
Sunday, 1 June 2014
I Told You So
For a while, they had been in a relationship. He, the boyfriend, would often come round to see how things were and spend some time when they weren't dating or Kyle was busy or unwell. Often he would just turn up uninvited. He did that the day Kyle got the cut. A nasty thing, quite deep, long and ragged, down his arm, on the shoulder. He was trying to press tissues to it when Fanboy started hammering on the door. Rolling his eyes, he got up, put his shirt back on and went to the door, allowing him into his house and home. With a wide grin, Fanboy launched himself at his boyfriend. "Hey Kyle! How are you? Did you miss me?"
"I only saw you yesterday!" Kyle snapped, rather irritated as his love's arm rubbed against the cut, causing a burning pain. Obviously, his snap caused offence.
"I was just kidding...are you okay?" He noticed the wizard clutching his bad shoulder.
There was no reply. He turned and went back to the bathroom, pulling his shirt off again and checking his shoulder. It was still bleeding. The tissues went in the bin and he turned to find Fanboy staring.
"What?"
"What did you do to your arm?"
"It's just a scratch."
"It looks really bad, Kyle..."
He glanced at it and shrugged, then winced. "It will heal, though."
"Actually," Interrupted a particularly cynical voice, "it looks to me like it needs stitches." They both turned to the Scrivener elf, who was stood only a little way back from Fanboy, who almost stood in the doorway to the bathroom. Getting angry, the young wizard pushed past them both, going to his bedroom and reaching under his bed, pulling out a sewing kit. "Stitches. I don't need stitches."
Scrivener and Fanboy shared glances. "He's been moody all day." The elf explained. "Something's upset him."
Fanboy nodded, frown deepening as Kyle connected the needle and thread, and then did something no-one expected. He effectively stabbed the needle into his skin, piercing near the gash already there. All at one, he cried out, Fanboy called his name and Scrivener yelled 'No', putting his hand out to stop him. Kyle was sewing the cut closed himself, even though it was clearly causing a lot of pain. Was he really that adamant on not going to hospital? It wasn't exactly safe to try to physically stop him, so really the most they could do was shout, but soon enough he was finished...and in tears...and he cut the thread, leaving him with his stupid idea of sewing the gash shut. Fanboy had left the room by this point and was outside, getting some air so he wouldn't throw up.
He jumped when he felt the hand on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with Kyle once more. He was dressed again.
"Kyle? Are you...?"
"I'm okay. I'm fine, I didn't...it's going to be an okay temporary solution."
"Temporary?"
"Yes, temporary. I'll get it properly seen to, but I really can't right now. Catch up later, okay?" He planted a kiss on the costumed character's cheek before disappearing inside, slamming the door.
For the next few weeks, things went as normal. They met up a few times, spent time together and were just as affectionate as usual, and it was if the situation had never occurred. Now, Kyle loved roller coasters. There was a theme park in Galaxy Hills and it had been a while since they had gone there, and Fanboy felt it would be nice to spend a night there. A date. Naturally, Chum Chum would not be coming with them. Well, he would be coming to the park, just not hanging around the other two. He went in ahead while Fanboy waited for Kyle.
The wizard was well aware he was late. He was staring at himself in the mirror. He had a sickly pallor about him, and he was feverish and shaking. It was a warm night, but Kyle couldn't get warm at all. He checked the time again. He should have been at the gates 15 minutes ago. The two of them had been looking forward to this date for ages, he couldn't fall ill now! He put on his coat and stepped out, stomping down towards the park. His shoulder was throbbing. He never did remove the thread from that cut, and it had been weeping, but he hadn't really noticed until the pain started, and it didn't matter. He had antibiotics. The infection wasn't clearing up yet, though, so perhaps he would have to go see someone about it. He was almost an hour late when he finally arrived, and apologised profusely, lying and saying his elf had needed assistance. Fanboy accepted the excuse without missing a beat and assured him that it was fine, lying and saying he had not been waiting long.
The night went fine at first. They played a few games, Fanboy doing great at throwing balls and hoops, Kyle being rifle and dart perfect, and winning each other countless prizes. They went on rides both rough and smooth, had some food and drink...but it started on the merry go round. Even though they weren't going fast at all, he began feeling sick. He stumbled off and wondered if perhaps he was just hungry (as this was before they went to get refreshments), so he took charge, leading to the nearest concession stand. They each had a hotdog and a lemonade, and Fanboy became eager to go on the roller coaster. He had brought bags to put the prizes in so they could take them on the rides, so there they were. Kyle dug his fingers into the chair and screwed up his eyes, his stomach cramping, acid rising in his throat. This was it, he was going to be sick. He was choking back the bile and then the ride ended. Suddenly he was feeling awful, struggling to catch his breath as he followed Fanboy to the next ride. The masked boy saw how uncomfortable his boyfriend was, however. "Uh...are you okay?"
''Stupid roller coaster...why did I even go in there in the first place?''
"You don't look well."
"That ride made me sick."
"We could just sit down for a moment..."
Kyle nodded and they went to the nearest free bench, and cuddled up to one another. The nausea did not fade. Kyle was actually getting a little concerned. It was only a fever a moment ago, and now suddenly he was so breathless and felt he might vomit any moment and...oh dear. Suddenly, he shot to his feet, drawing a gasp from his caped Casanova. "I need the bathroom." He explained in excuse before running off and locking himself in a stall, thankfully before an accident could occur.
It was as he was walking back from the toilets that the sickness hit its absolute worst. The muscles in his limbs were screaming. The pains swarming him and the acid rising in his throat once more drove him to tears. He couldn't stay any longer, he had to go home. There would be something in the Necronomicon that would help. His vision swam again and he stumbled to a trash can, finally bringing up everything in his stomach, legs almost collapsing beneath him. He retched again and felt a hand on his back. He tried to shrug it off, and Fanboy told him not to worry. It was only him. When Kyle raised his head he saw lights and heard voices, but everything was blurred or muffled, and he felt the ground scrape across his skin long before he realised he had fallen over, and he barely felt the pain where he bumped his head on the bin edge. The last clear thing he heard as he lost consciousness was Fanboy yelling for someone to call an ambulance.
Fanboy ran alongside the hospital stretcher as the doctors took his boyfriend to the emergency room, looking over him. He was barely breathing. Fanboy was not allowed in the room, so he behaved and waited outside anxiously. A doctor asked for the personal details of both boys, and he did his best to answer the questions, but then he was checking Kyle's medical records. "Could it be to do with his visit recently?" The caped crusader asked anxiously. The doctor frowned.
"Kyle's most recent hospital visit was...quite a few years ago, in England. Tobias, if you know something that might help..."
"No, I don't, but I remember he had to go to the doctors a few weeks ago...he didn't?"
The doctor shook his head. Fanboy had forgotten the injury and that it had been self-sewn. "Do you know what was wrong with him?"
"Uh...let me think..."
The doctor went back inside as other doctors cut Kyle's shirt open for some reason or another. As the wizard's distraught boyfriend paced around outside, feeling panic blossoming in his chest. He took furtive glances through the windows in the doors and then suddenly he remembered. Bursting through the doors, he fought against the instant attempts to usher him out. "He injured his shoulder! He stitched it himself!"
A while later, he sat in a hospital room, intensive care, beside the sick wizard. "Will be be okay?"
"He's quite unwell, but we're doing all we can."
They really were. They had removed the thread from Kyle's shoulder and carefully cut away body tissues that had died. He had several tubes and machines connected to him, and an air mask over his face. He wasn't awake yet. Chum Chum had been leaving messages on Fanboy's phone, but he had been ignoring them. He was just focussed on Kyle, Kyle's wellbeing and how all of this would affect Kyle. He was sat there a very long time, and was almost falling asleep. He had been there long enough to be ever so tired and hungry, but then as his head dipped low he saw some movement before him, heard the rustle of the blankets, and then he looked up, and Kyle was sitting up. Fanboy went to usher him back down. "It's okay, Kyle...just rest..."
He pulled the oxygen mask away from his face. "Where...what...?"
"You're not well."
He narrowed his eyes at Fanboy. "You look pale."
"I'm fine, you should rest."
"What time is it?"
"Uh..." He checked. "5 in the morning."
"Sleep."
"I need to make sure you're okay."
"Come closer."
Hesitantly, he obeyed, shifting his chair closer to the bed, and Kyle's arm snaked around his chest, weakly pulling him close. He sort of gently pushed Fanboy's head onto his chest and cuddled him. "I'll be good if you get some sleep."
You see, Fanboy had expected to be looking after Kyle, but instead, even though he was still quite unwell, Kyle seemed to be doing the caring.
"...Kyle?"
"Mmm?"
"Are you okay?"
"Mmm."
"Kyle?"
"Mmm?"
"I love you."
"...Fanboy?"
"Yeah?"
"Love you too."
"Oh, and Kyle?"
He sighed now. "Yes?"
"I told you not to stitch yourself. I told you so."
"I only saw you yesterday!" Kyle snapped, rather irritated as his love's arm rubbed against the cut, causing a burning pain. Obviously, his snap caused offence.
"I was just kidding...are you okay?" He noticed the wizard clutching his bad shoulder.
There was no reply. He turned and went back to the bathroom, pulling his shirt off again and checking his shoulder. It was still bleeding. The tissues went in the bin and he turned to find Fanboy staring.
"What?"
"What did you do to your arm?"
"It's just a scratch."
"It looks really bad, Kyle..."
He glanced at it and shrugged, then winced. "It will heal, though."
"Actually," Interrupted a particularly cynical voice, "it looks to me like it needs stitches." They both turned to the Scrivener elf, who was stood only a little way back from Fanboy, who almost stood in the doorway to the bathroom. Getting angry, the young wizard pushed past them both, going to his bedroom and reaching under his bed, pulling out a sewing kit. "Stitches. I don't need stitches."
Scrivener and Fanboy shared glances. "He's been moody all day." The elf explained. "Something's upset him."
Fanboy nodded, frown deepening as Kyle connected the needle and thread, and then did something no-one expected. He effectively stabbed the needle into his skin, piercing near the gash already there. All at one, he cried out, Fanboy called his name and Scrivener yelled 'No', putting his hand out to stop him. Kyle was sewing the cut closed himself, even though it was clearly causing a lot of pain. Was he really that adamant on not going to hospital? It wasn't exactly safe to try to physically stop him, so really the most they could do was shout, but soon enough he was finished...and in tears...and he cut the thread, leaving him with his stupid idea of sewing the gash shut. Fanboy had left the room by this point and was outside, getting some air so he wouldn't throw up.
He jumped when he felt the hand on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with Kyle once more. He was dressed again.
"Kyle? Are you...?"
"I'm okay. I'm fine, I didn't...it's going to be an okay temporary solution."
"Temporary?"
"Yes, temporary. I'll get it properly seen to, but I really can't right now. Catch up later, okay?" He planted a kiss on the costumed character's cheek before disappearing inside, slamming the door.
For the next few weeks, things went as normal. They met up a few times, spent time together and were just as affectionate as usual, and it was if the situation had never occurred. Now, Kyle loved roller coasters. There was a theme park in Galaxy Hills and it had been a while since they had gone there, and Fanboy felt it would be nice to spend a night there. A date. Naturally, Chum Chum would not be coming with them. Well, he would be coming to the park, just not hanging around the other two. He went in ahead while Fanboy waited for Kyle.
The wizard was well aware he was late. He was staring at himself in the mirror. He had a sickly pallor about him, and he was feverish and shaking. It was a warm night, but Kyle couldn't get warm at all. He checked the time again. He should have been at the gates 15 minutes ago. The two of them had been looking forward to this date for ages, he couldn't fall ill now! He put on his coat and stepped out, stomping down towards the park. His shoulder was throbbing. He never did remove the thread from that cut, and it had been weeping, but he hadn't really noticed until the pain started, and it didn't matter. He had antibiotics. The infection wasn't clearing up yet, though, so perhaps he would have to go see someone about it. He was almost an hour late when he finally arrived, and apologised profusely, lying and saying his elf had needed assistance. Fanboy accepted the excuse without missing a beat and assured him that it was fine, lying and saying he had not been waiting long.
The night went fine at first. They played a few games, Fanboy doing great at throwing balls and hoops, Kyle being rifle and dart perfect, and winning each other countless prizes. They went on rides both rough and smooth, had some food and drink...but it started on the merry go round. Even though they weren't going fast at all, he began feeling sick. He stumbled off and wondered if perhaps he was just hungry (as this was before they went to get refreshments), so he took charge, leading to the nearest concession stand. They each had a hotdog and a lemonade, and Fanboy became eager to go on the roller coaster. He had brought bags to put the prizes in so they could take them on the rides, so there they were. Kyle dug his fingers into the chair and screwed up his eyes, his stomach cramping, acid rising in his throat. This was it, he was going to be sick. He was choking back the bile and then the ride ended. Suddenly he was feeling awful, struggling to catch his breath as he followed Fanboy to the next ride. The masked boy saw how uncomfortable his boyfriend was, however. "Uh...are you okay?"
''Stupid roller coaster...why did I even go in there in the first place?''
"You don't look well."
"That ride made me sick."
"We could just sit down for a moment..."
Kyle nodded and they went to the nearest free bench, and cuddled up to one another. The nausea did not fade. Kyle was actually getting a little concerned. It was only a fever a moment ago, and now suddenly he was so breathless and felt he might vomit any moment and...oh dear. Suddenly, he shot to his feet, drawing a gasp from his caped Casanova. "I need the bathroom." He explained in excuse before running off and locking himself in a stall, thankfully before an accident could occur.
It was as he was walking back from the toilets that the sickness hit its absolute worst. The muscles in his limbs were screaming. The pains swarming him and the acid rising in his throat once more drove him to tears. He couldn't stay any longer, he had to go home. There would be something in the Necronomicon that would help. His vision swam again and he stumbled to a trash can, finally bringing up everything in his stomach, legs almost collapsing beneath him. He retched again and felt a hand on his back. He tried to shrug it off, and Fanboy told him not to worry. It was only him. When Kyle raised his head he saw lights and heard voices, but everything was blurred or muffled, and he felt the ground scrape across his skin long before he realised he had fallen over, and he barely felt the pain where he bumped his head on the bin edge. The last clear thing he heard as he lost consciousness was Fanboy yelling for someone to call an ambulance.
Fanboy ran alongside the hospital stretcher as the doctors took his boyfriend to the emergency room, looking over him. He was barely breathing. Fanboy was not allowed in the room, so he behaved and waited outside anxiously. A doctor asked for the personal details of both boys, and he did his best to answer the questions, but then he was checking Kyle's medical records. "Could it be to do with his visit recently?" The caped crusader asked anxiously. The doctor frowned.
"Kyle's most recent hospital visit was...quite a few years ago, in England. Tobias, if you know something that might help..."
"No, I don't, but I remember he had to go to the doctors a few weeks ago...he didn't?"
The doctor shook his head. Fanboy had forgotten the injury and that it had been self-sewn. "Do you know what was wrong with him?"
"Uh...let me think..."
The doctor went back inside as other doctors cut Kyle's shirt open for some reason or another. As the wizard's distraught boyfriend paced around outside, feeling panic blossoming in his chest. He took furtive glances through the windows in the doors and then suddenly he remembered. Bursting through the doors, he fought against the instant attempts to usher him out. "He injured his shoulder! He stitched it himself!"
A while later, he sat in a hospital room, intensive care, beside the sick wizard. "Will be be okay?"
"He's quite unwell, but we're doing all we can."
They really were. They had removed the thread from Kyle's shoulder and carefully cut away body tissues that had died. He had several tubes and machines connected to him, and an air mask over his face. He wasn't awake yet. Chum Chum had been leaving messages on Fanboy's phone, but he had been ignoring them. He was just focussed on Kyle, Kyle's wellbeing and how all of this would affect Kyle. He was sat there a very long time, and was almost falling asleep. He had been there long enough to be ever so tired and hungry, but then as his head dipped low he saw some movement before him, heard the rustle of the blankets, and then he looked up, and Kyle was sitting up. Fanboy went to usher him back down. "It's okay, Kyle...just rest..."
He pulled the oxygen mask away from his face. "Where...what...?"
"You're not well."
He narrowed his eyes at Fanboy. "You look pale."
"I'm fine, you should rest."
"What time is it?"
"Uh..." He checked. "5 in the morning."
"Sleep."
"I need to make sure you're okay."
"Come closer."
Hesitantly, he obeyed, shifting his chair closer to the bed, and Kyle's arm snaked around his chest, weakly pulling him close. He sort of gently pushed Fanboy's head onto his chest and cuddled him. "I'll be good if you get some sleep."
You see, Fanboy had expected to be looking after Kyle, but instead, even though he was still quite unwell, Kyle seemed to be doing the caring.
"...Kyle?"
"Mmm?"
"Are you okay?"
"Mmm."
"Kyle?"
"Mmm?"
"I love you."
"...Fanboy?"
"Yeah?"
"Love you too."
"Oh, and Kyle?"
He sighed now. "Yes?"
"I told you not to stitch yourself. I told you so."
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)