|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Oct 29, 2007 19:39:14 GMT
Someone come and kill me... somebody come hurt me.... is the thought that keeps repeating in my head as I race through the forest with the occasional dry sob. I finally collide with a tree so hard that I twist around it, winding up on my back and facing the direction I just came from. I give another sob, lungs aching from the exercise, and curl up at the foot of the tree, seizing a sharp piece of bark.
I just need to cry... it's not really cutting. I won't even puncture the skin, I think as I roll up my sleeves. It really isn't cutting....
But it's similar... a similar idea, a calm voice reminds me.
But I just need to cry, and I'm desperate here, I argue, drawing the bark sharply down my arm with a quick intake of breath. Just a couple scratches that will fade in several hours... nothing permanent about it so it really doesn't count, and it makes me feel better.
My arms are red and raw a few minutes later, especially in places where I did puncture skin just a little... but my face is finally wet and I don't feel like a weight studded with spikes is bouncing around in my chest. I take a deep breath and let it out, rolling down my sleeves but leaving the tears on my face, deciding to just sit here for a bit in the cool evening air.
((Please do not reply unless you know me pretty well... sorry for the... I dunno, graphicness of it.))
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 10:51:58 GMT
I snort amusedly as someone comes running past the tree I'm sitting in, shaking my head amusedly. The forest always seemed to be full of over emotional teenagers lately.
I stay sat where I am, still, then the curiousity overtakes me and I peer through the dark in the direction they'd just gone, watching the robes disappear out of sight. Female, by the looks of it. I wonder vaguely what's happened to this one, making a list in my head of things it could be to pass the time. Heartbreak, maybe, most of the girls around here seemed especially tuned to that. Or possibly some sort of family tragedy; death, dismemberment, something like that. That was a strong possibility.
I drop down from the tree as the sound of her crashing through the undergrowth stops, drawing my wand and making my way silently and swiftly through the trees, overwhelmed by curiousity then stop very suddenly as I see who's there.
My own voice coming in a somewhat strangled way so that I don't even recognise it as me who'd spoken for a few miliseconds, "Arden?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:04:20 GMT
I'm feeling significantly calmer after a couple of minutes, and have just about decided I should go back to the castle when I hear my name.
Oh, good. Somebody who knows me, I think sarcastically, closing my eyes briefly.
Then I open them and immediately feel rather sick, probably going pale. Not you. Anybody but you. I shake my head.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 14:07:11 GMT
"Arden..." I frown, taking a step forward, then stopping seeing how pale she's gone.
I stay still and silent, watching her and how dishevelled she looks and not saying anything for what seems like forever.
Then when I do find my voice again, all I manage to say is the same thing again, "Arden...?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:13:06 GMT
I give a shaky, almost whimpering laugh, several responses floating into my head but none of them making a great deal of sense.
"Hey, Logan," I manage after a moment. "What a nice surprise to see you here," I say with the same shaky laugh, my voice almost unrecognizable. My hand closes tightly around the piece of bark I used to hurt myself, almost without me really realizing it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 14:17:35 GMT
I recoil ever so slightly, brow furrowing, and tilting my head to one side bemusedly.
"What's wrong?"
The game of trying to work out what could be wrong doesn't seem so amusing anymore.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:21:26 GMT
I laugh again with that mix of actual amusemen and hysteria.
"What the hell is wrong? What do you think is wrong?" I ask through fresh tears, though I don't know when I started crying again. I laugh again. "Seen Chris lately?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 14:24:14 GMT
My jaw clenches immediately, and I suddenly seem to stiffen up, hardly daring to breathe, Oh, that's wrong.
"Why yes, as a matter of fact I have. Not holding up too well, is he? Complete mess, really."
Well, now she knows. Might as well let her now how you really are now.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:35:35 GMT
"Yes he is," I say with another teary laugh, suddenly feeling rather like a traitor for admitting something like that for him. "Proud of yourself?" I ask, wiping away some of the tears.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 14:39:41 GMT
"Extremely," I reply, an amused edge in my voice, "Fucking ecstatic with what I have accomplished. Thank you for asking."
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:44:29 GMT
I feel very sick again and have to close my eyes against a new flood of tears.
"Fucking wonderful," I say, pushing up my sleeves to show the scratches. "Friends feel each other's pain and happiness, right?" I ask with a laugh. "So we must be really fucking confused."
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 2, 2007 14:51:05 GMT
I take her arm, immediately forgetting my half formed plan of just coming clean to who I was now, turning it slightly to catch the light.
"Arden, you do not do this to yourself...don't do this to yourself...ever again," I say bluntly, not sure if I'm asking, ordering, or simply in denial.
Unable to stop the unpleasant surge of nostalgia, "Christopher, what the fuck man? Do not do that."
"Leave off Logan, if he wants to mutilate himself let him."
"I'm not having him do this, you're not to do this, Chris?"
I force it out of my head, reminding myself that it was when I still gave a fuck.
Does that mean you give a fuck, here, now, for her?
I don't know, stop saying things.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 2, 2007 14:56:30 GMT
I snatch my arm away from him, not wanting him to touch me.
"I didn't fucking do this.... You're the one who did this," I say with a slight laugh, feeling mildly childish for blaming somebody else for my own inability to cope with things.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 4, 2007 10:42:40 GMT
"I didn't do this! This is not my fault!" I argue, feeling extremely childish but unsure of how else to respond.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 4, 2007 14:15:31 GMT
I laugh again tearily and try to dry my eyes, not wanting to cry anymore.
"True enough, that you didn't do it," I nod. "But I would still say it's your fault."
How else do I react when my world does a backflip, and I find myself thinking that if you were killed tomorrow, it would hurt a lot but likely be a good thing?
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 12:48:16 GMT
"I have done nothing wrong," I argue, unable to shake the feeling that I was behaving like a child.
You've done a lot of things wrong. A lot of things you can barely justify.
But I can justify them.
Barely, Logan, barely.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 15:45:21 GMT
I laugh again and shake my head. "Oh, you... you've done nothing wrong?" I stop the laugh before it gets too near hysteria, open my mouth and then close it again before I can hit him with a string of disgusted insults, remembering clearly what happened the last time that I told him what I thought.
I swallow hard, voice shaking slightly when I finally speak. "You've... done plenty wrong, Logan. And... and I don't want anything to do with you anymore."
I pull down my sleeves again, avoiding his eyes. Can't look or you'll forgive him.
But I shake my head at that thought. Not this time. I'd done a lot of thinking this time around, and come to some conclusions. So I manage to look up to meet his eyes, even though it makes me feel slightly sick.
Can't look or you'll forgive him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 15:52:57 GMT
"No, Arden, no," I say, surprised to find my voice isn't quite level, tone holding some emotion other than cool indifference. Not something I could indentify, but something that was very different from normal.
You're pathetic.
For once, I agree.
And now you decide to come to an unanimous decision that doesn't help me at all. Thanks voices.
"No," I say again quieter, shaking my head, having to drop my gaze away from hers.
Is this an act or is this genuine?...Wait, do you even know anymore?
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 16:01:20 GMT
I shake my head very quickly and have to close my eyes a moment. Not because I might forgive him! Just... just a precaution....
I shake my head again, much more slowly. "I mean it, Logan. Un... unless you change...." I falter slightly as a voice snaps in my head, rebuking sharply. Don't do that! Don't you give him a way out! This is it. You are done. And there's no more second chances.
"I don't... I don't want anything to do with you," I repeat, hugging my knees to my chest like a little kid, like the forest has just gotten scarier... like I'm losing my best friend and I don't like it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 16:05:35 GMT
"Arden..." Something completely unfamiliar in my tone now. Something I'd heard too many times to count, but had never ever passed my lips before.
Logan, you're almost pleading.
Sanp out of it.
And snap into what?
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 16:21:51 GMT
I shake my head again, staring into my knees.
Is Logan pleading? Is... is he actually...?
No, the other voice says quickly. Has to be a trick, he can't really....
I shake my head to make the voices go away, wanting to hear my own, the only one I really trust.
"You know you were a really good friend, Logan, and I could... never hurt you," I say slowly. "But... but if Chris were to come up behind you right now...."
I can't believe you're saying this!
I shake my head, forcing myself to look up even though I can barely get the words out, and they come out in a whisper even I can barely hear.
"I don't think I'd give any warning."
I want to take them back as soon as I say them, not knowing if they're true or not but knowing that I'm pushing it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 16:28:37 GMT
What's that? Can you feel that?
Of course I can fucking feel it.
Like something sharp has lodged itself right in your throat, that?
Yes, that.
Yeah, welcome to humanity.
I don't think I'll be staying long.
"So that's it, huh?" My tone is sharp now, colder.
So that's what?
It. That's just it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 16:37:32 GMT
Yeah. Is that it? Throwing out all your years of friendship just for....
Just for the fact he's a murdering psycho? Just because he fucking tortured you for saying what you think... which, by the way, is utterly the opposite of what he apparently thinks? Just because he killed a two-year-old because of some dumb feud that he won't even tell his side of the story to you? Just because of that, because he shows no remorse and won't allow you to make up your mind? Well, gee, is that it?
"You said it first," I say, surprised to find my voice wobbling with tears. "When... when you couldn't deny that you would do the same to me as you did to Will. You said it first."
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 16:46:52 GMT
"I was angry! I would not do that to you, Arden!" I protest, voice wavering slightly with the effort to keep it steady.
And this makes it okay? This means she'll forgive you?
Yes...no...I-...
You lose, Logan. In all senses of the word.
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 16:56:35 GMT
I shake my head, still hugging my knees, tears now running down my face.
"Were you angry when you did it to him then? When... when you impersonated him for... weeks?" I ask, mind snatching on something that I think that Morgan said though I'm not really sure... and I hope I'm not accusing him falsely. "Were you angry when you killed... you killed a two-year-old, a baby, for some feud that you won't even explain to me?" I shake my head again, wiping away some of the tears. "What the hell has happened to you, Logan? You... you weren't like this."
I can't keep the uncertainty out of my voice on the last sentence, relying mostly on blind hope that I wouldn't have forgiven him all of those years if he had always been like this.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 17:06:16 GMT
"I-...he-...you-..." I can't quite make sense even in my head, for once longing for an inner voice to berate me, encourage me, anything.
"I did not intend to kill my brother, it just-...it happened!" My voice is rising angrily, and the pretence of trying to justify what I've done rapidly disappears all of a sudden, "And the world is fucking better off without some other mudblood brat that'll grow up to be as useless and cowardly as it's father! Rowan...Rowan was regrettable but what made him of any use whatsoever was long since dead. And I have always been like this! It's your fault that you can't handle how I am and have neglected to notice until now, not mine!" I roar.
But why are you how you are?
SHUT UP!
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 17:18:49 GMT
I shake my head again disgustedly, getting rather angry now and, strangely, picking up my wand.
"You... I... I can't believe... it just happened? And... and..." I trail off, not making sense in my own head. "You disgust me," I say after a moment, voice shaking with anger. "And I guess if you were always just like this then I was blind. Blind and deaf and stupid but I'm not now, thanks. It was really quite a help that you left such a trail of victims who could open up my eyes. And the torture, that was helpful. That was really fucking helpful."
A few sparks fly out of my wand and I stare at it, not realizing 'til then that I've been gripping it tightly... so tightly that my hand seems to have seized up around it, and won't let go when I try to set it down.
This is Logan, you can't curse him. Doesn't matter what he's done, you could never hurt him directly.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 17:22:41 GMT
Her voice goes straight into my head without me making sense of the words so it's just raw noise bouncing around my brain, making my head ache, feeling like it's about to split.
My eyes are fixed on her wand, as is all my concentration hence my inability to make sense of what she says. She might as well have been speaking in a different language.
"Do it," I say, lifting my eyes from her wand to meet her eyes, "Go on, do it."
|
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Nov 11, 2007 17:30:58 GMT
I look up at him quickly, rather startled, then back at my wand. I look up again and meet his eyes, shaking my head. "I can't," I say quietly. "I told you... I can't hurt you. N-not... not directly."
Not that you have any problem.
I ignore the reflexive stinging comment, too troubled by the thoughts forming in the back of my brain. They don't really have any words, but they seem to be implying that I still might forgive him. And that bothers me greatly.
|
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Nov 11, 2007 17:37:57 GMT
"Do it," I repeat louder, eyes still firmly locked on hers.
What are you doing?
I don't have a reply anymore.
"Fucking do it, Arden. Torturing curse, killing curse, anything that takes your fancy, just do it."
|
|
