She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XL)


The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!


He was alone in his thoughts, surrounded by a series of disjointed memories, with no clue as to how he got here.  The other was gone, or at least he couldn’t feel it at the moment, and it was everything he could do to hold onto the small sliver of consciousness that came to him.  He was in pain, more than he had ever known before and his skin felt as if there were millions of insects marching relentlessly over him.


The voice came from far away.  It sounded vaguely familiar to him, but for some reason he couldn’t associate a face with it.  It was soothing, and even before it faded away he felt a warm cloth against his forehead.  Until this moment, he felt his body tensing up, ready to rebel against whatever new threat he had to face, but all of this vanished beneath the caring attention he was receiving.

“I’m almost done…”

There was a slight pressure in his lower stomach, followed by the sound of something tearing above him.  It was loud, hollow and he in the sea of memories that still wouldn’t come together, he saw the briefest glimpse of something grey.  After several more small ripping noises, his unknown savior began applying something against the area of his stomach from which the most pain emanated.

“Uhnnn,” he groaned weakly.

“It’s okay buddy.  I’m almost done,” the other whispered.  “But you have to be quiet now.  They’re looking for you.”

“But,” he drawled weakly.  “Why?”

“Don’t you worry about that, my friend.  Just rest.  Just you rest now.”

He fought against it.  He wasn’t ready to return to sleep, but he had absolutely no control over the lethargy which overtook him.  Though his eyes had never truly opened, he ‘closed’ them once more and fell back into the void of his subconsciousness.



He blinked in confusion, trying to sort out the massive influx of images assaulting his eyes.. A familiar voice had just spoken, but it was as out of place as the things around him.  He was in the living room of his house, sitting on the floor before the family television. The sun was shining through the picture window to his right, something that only happened in the late afternoon when the sun was making its slow trek toward the horizon, and there were cartoons dancing on the screen before him.

“I said, get the fuck outta the way, twerp!  I’m trying to change the channel,” Megan screeched from behind him.

He slowly turned, and sure enough, there she sat on couch.  She still wore her cheerleader’s outfit, having most likely gotten home from school herself, with her legs tucked underneath of her and off to the side.  

“Mom said I could watch cartoons after school today,” he whined.

He jumped at the sound of his voice, an action which only enhanced the incredibly pathetic image his whiny voice had just created.  He hadn’t intended to speak, but as he was beginning to realize, he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried.  He was looking through the portals of his eyes from the prison of his mind, trapped and powerless to affect the younger Scott with his own will.  He couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to, just as he couldn’t have controlled the movement of his younger body.

“Jesus Scott,” the thought venomously, “Why don’t you grow some fucking balls and tell her where she can shove that remote?”

The younger version of himself jumped again, startled by the sound of his voice when it suddenly filled his head.  He looked from one end of the room to the other, frantically searching for the source of this unknown ‘other’. 

“Wha-who,” he started to ask.  His words were violently cut off, however, when something slammed into the side of his face, knocking him to the floor.  Because his thoughts had been preoccupied with the possibility of an intruder, he hadn’t noticed when his sister sprung from the couch and stormed over to him.  He hadn’t seen her hand as it flew through the air, and he didn’t know that even as he was falling from the initial attack, she was kicking him the rest of the way to the floor.

“I SAID, get out of the goddamn way!  GOD!  You can be so worthless sometimes!”

As he watched through the eyes of his younger self, who was now scrambling to his feet and fleeing the room in tears, he began to fantasize of the different ways he wanted her to suffer for what she did.  Before they reached the top of the stairs, the tears and stopped and the young Scott was beginning to share the same smile the older version of himself was also making.


“Wake up.”

The voice of his unknown savior pulled him out of his prison, forcing him to once more return to a reality where there was nothing left for him.  But none of this mattered.  As he slowly opened his eyes, Scott Vali began to smile.

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