She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XXI)

Disclaimer

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!

———

The next morning found him sitting alone at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal.  It was still early and he had classes to attend to, but his thoughts were far away from such things as World History and Discrete Mathematics.

As he lazily swirled his spoon around the bowl, chasing the melting marshmallows into the other flavorless shapes, he reflected on what had happened the night before.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“I really had a good time tonight.”

He turned to look at her for the first time since they got into her car.  She was turned toward him with a smile on her face and when his eyes met hers, she all but beamed at him.  Her smile was infectious.  It didn’t matter to him that there was a small piece of popcorn tangled in her hair.  He didn’t see that her lips glistened from the butter that had coated her previous snack.  At that moment, he felt as if he was falling into her.

He looked up from his cereal as his phone chirruped, notifying him that he had received a text message, but he didn’t immediately pick it up to read it.  If it was who he thought it was from, there were eight other messages just like it waiting to be read.

Still tired, he slowly stood from his seat and carried the bowl over to the sink to rinse. He felt numb.  Try as he might, he couldn’t find the motivation to get this day started. He swam in a sea of apathy, tireless, and there was no land in sight.

As he ran a sponge through the bowl, his eyes wandered through the window and to the backyard.  Near the back, beneath the maple tree, he could just see where a patch of dirt had recently been disturbed.

“Scott?  I didn’t know you were still home,”

He jumped at the sound of her voice.  He hadn’t expected her to be here.

“Jesus Megan, what the fuck?!”

She laughed as she walked past him and to the fridge, leaning over in an all too familiar pose as she searched for something to drink.  He looked over, and for a brief moment he had thought about turning and drop-kicking her in the ass.

“What?  I can’t get something to drink?”

“I…  I thought you were staying the night at your friend’s?”

“Yeah, that didn’t work out.”

She stood and took a long drawl from the carton of orange juice, pausing long enough to take a deep breath before polishing it off.

“Leave some for the rest of us, why don’t ya,” he said with an amused smile on his face.

“Sorry twerp, I need the citrus to wash out the taste of…”  She suddenly ended her thought as she realized who she was talking to.

“Gross,” he said as he put his dishes away.

“How did you ‘big’ date go,” she asked teasingly, quickly changing the subject.

“It was…okay, I guess.  She paid for everything.”

“What?  You made her pay?!”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” he objected angrily.  “She didn’t really give me a choice.  By the time I got there, she had already bought the tickets.  And, when we went inside, she insisted on paying for the snacks as well.”

“Shit, Scott, I forgot about your bike!  How DID you get there, anyways?”

“I ran,” he admitted quietly.

“You…ran?”  She looked up at him with something that was a bit too much like admiration for his comfort.

“Yeah, I ran!  How the fuck else was I supposed to get there?!”

“Okay, okay.  Calm down, bro!  It’s just that…”

“What,” he asked, irritated.

“Well, you know…”

“No, goddamn it, I don’t.  What, Megan?”

She huffed as she shoved away from the counter, quickly returning to her feet.

“You can be so stupid sometimes, you know that?  Just fucking forget it, alright?  Shit!”

She stormed from the room, but he made no move as he listened to her angry retreat. It wasn’t until after he heard her door slam that he walked over and picked up his cell phone and began reviewing the messages.

Hey Scott, it’s must me. Lucy. I wanted to let you know that last night was great. – 4:36am

Hello, thanks again for taking me to the movies!  I enjoyed spending time with you!  Call me when you get this! – 5:11am

I was just thinking about what you shared with me last night.  If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll share something with you! – 5:27am

I hope you don’t mind me texting you. I couldn’t sleep. I hope you are dreaming about me! – 5:31am

Scott? Are you awake yet?  Text or call me when you get this!  – 5:51am

He scrolled through the remaining messages, passing his eyes over them only briefly before erasing them, all, except for the last.  The last one she had signed ‘Love, Lucy’.

“Love Lucy,” he mouthed incredulously.  What else had happened last night?

She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XX)

Disclaimer

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!

———

He collapsed against his pillow in exhaustion, lathered in sweat and haunted by the remnants of a dream he could no longer recall.  His hands clutched at the sheets and his knuckles had become as pale as his face from the continuous effort.  It wasn’t something he was aware of, nor was it anything he had any control over and many minutes would pass before his muscles would relax enough to allow him the comfort of sleep.

His eyes were open as far as they would go and if anyone were looking upon him at just this moment, they might flee in fright from his expression alone.  His face appeared nearly as white as the sheets beneath him and his mouth was yet partially opened from the soundless shrieks he had recently contributed to the silence around him.

A large vein protruded from his forehead, pulsing in time with his racing heart, and a bead of sweat slowly made it’s final journey past his temple and into his hairline, never to be seen again.

Though his eyes were open, they were sightless.  Scott Vali was not in at this time, but rather, it was another who looked through the veil of his consciousness.  This other had no control over its host.  It could not control him for its needs, nor did it have any desire to.  It was only content in finding new and exciting ways to break this one’s mind and soul.

Time had no meaning for the ‘other’.  It only existed whenever its host’s stress levels increased, and with each visit, so too did its strength increase as well.

It passed its time by whispering into his dreams, speaking of creatures that no man would ever be able fathom.  Though it only spoke of the tiniest fraction of these beings, it was more than enough to send its host cascading into the deepest, darkest pit of despair he had ever known.

It fed on his creativity.  Though he didn’t know it, he had a strong aptitude for visualization.  He accepted it as part of his imagination, but if he’d had the motivation to, he had the potential to one day be more than he ever dreamed he could.  Whenever he began to slip into himself, it would gnaw on his thoughts, corrupting them into something more to its suiting.

This night had been big.  It was the greatest moment of its existence thus far, and, as it drifted back into its own version of slumber, it would have smiled if it’d had a face with which to do so..

Scott blinked his eyes, groaning as his body began to jerk sporadically .  There was nothing dramatic about his movements, for they were the type of movements that come with extreme exhaustion.  They came because he was beyond this point of exhaustion, forcing his arms to slightly lift into the air with each action.  It caused his right eye to twitch rapidly, a feeling that was both weird and painful, but helpless to experience .  He rolled over to his right side, burying the twitching orifice into the crook of his arm in an effort to stymie its movement, but to no avail.

Had he been dreaming?  Had he awakened from a nightmare?

He couldn’t remember, and nor did it matter for he was chasing his thoughts back into darkness.  The discomfort of his dancing muscles still worried at his body, but his impending sleep took precedence over anything he might have wanted to do about it..

He drifted once more into sleep and this time there was only darkness waiting for him on the other side.

She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XIX.2)

Disclaimer

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!

———

Tommy sat behind the wheel of his light blue ’64 Chevy, with Misty at his side and B.J. riding passenger, who sat with his legs slightly elevated to accommodate the cooler beneath his feet.

“Hey, pass me a bear, would you,” Tommy asked nonchalantly.

“I wish you wouldn’t drink and drive Tommy,” Misty protested.

“Relax babe,” he said as he cracked it open.  “It’s just a beer.”

B.J. snickered, but immediately stopped once she turned her disapproving glare upon him.

The sat in near silence, with the only sound being the sipping of beer from either side of her and it was a long while before anything more was said than “Get me another.”

Finally, it was B.J. who broke the silence.

“Are you sure they’re going to be here?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Misty replied.  “Nikki said she overheard a conversation between Lucy and HER friends at lunch, in which she was telling them about her big date tonight.  Apparently, she was gushing over him.”

“Pee-yuuke,” B.J. erupted, while Tommy made gagging noises from her other side.

“Well you wanted to know!”

For the next several seconds, their laughter filled the cab of the truck.  It was Tommy who first grew quiet, and as he did, a brooding expression came over his features.

“Aw, what’s the matter honey?  Why the long face?”

“I don’t get it.  Why are we going through all this trouble to hook them up?”

“Tommy…  We’ve been over this!  You know that if you get caught in another fight, you’re going to get kicked off the team!  And besides, it’s not like he’s going to be getting off that easy or anything.”

“What do you mean by that?  If I’m not giving him a hard time, than he’s getting off easy as far as I’m concerned.  If you don’t put the faggots in their place, than before long they are taking over.”

“Yeah, like in that movie about the nerds,” B.J. added.

“Except this isn’t a movie, dumbass,” she shot back.  “And Tommy, you know I don’t like you using that word.”

“Whatever…” he muttered.  “Just get to the point.”

“Well, the word is; Lucy’s a bit of a control freak.  Ever since her father was murdered that night of the James Street Massacre, she has been manipulating things to get her way.  She’s so afraid that if she isn’t in control that something else, bad, will happen to her family.”

“I don’t get it…” B.J. said.  “What does that have to do with Scott?”

“Goddammit, B.J., you’re such a tool sometimes!  Are you so blind that you can’t see how this will play out?”

The latter’s face turned red from the verbal assault, but he didn’t say a word.  He didn’t dare, with Tommy watching him like a hawk.  If the wrong word came out of his mouth, he knew that he was going to get a fat lip, or worse.

“I, I guess I don’t,” he admitted through clenched teeth.

“Well, you know how Scott’s a bit of a loner, right?”

She waited for them to acknowledge her question before continuing.

“He’s a fucking weirdo, is what he is,” B.J. laughed, but nobody took his cue, and she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Well, like I said, she’s all excited that he asked her out.  I mean REALLY excited.  And, if she’s half the control-freak that I think she is, she’s going to make him more miserable than either of you two ever could.”

“What,” Tommy asked incredulously.  “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Well for one, she has something that only one person in this truck has, as well as the ability to withhold it from him!  I think,”

She paused when once again, they showed their maturity by emulating the act of vomiting.

“Are you boys about done?”

They had followed their vulgar pantomime with another fit of boyish laughter, and this time it would take something more than an angry look to settle them down.  She reached out and pinched both on their sides, eliciting a pained yelp from each.

“Alright!  Damn, that hurt,” Tommy yelled, while B.J. said some expletives of his own.

“Now, as I was about to say; I think that she will be able to cause him more pain than either of you ever could.”

“Damn, that’s just cold,” Tommy admitted reluctantly.  “I was just going to rough him up a bit, but she…”

“…will tear him apart.”  Misty finished with an evil grin.  “Look, there she is now.”

They watched as she got out of her car, a red ’90’s Nissan, and ambled toward the theater’s doors.

“Did we miss him already,” B.J. whispered.

“I don’t think so.  Look, she’s buying the tickets!  O.M.G.!  He can’t even pay his date’s way?!”

For the third time in minutes, the cab erupted in laughter.  And, when Scott finally appeared at the last minute, sprinting up the middle of the street, they would lean against each other in hilarity, cackling madly until tears fell from their eyes and their sides began to ache.