Ghost: Chapter one
He couldn't, he wouldn't, he shouldn't, but he had. And now his life was in shambles. He knew emotions were difficult and messy, that's why he always acted so cold. But now something inside him had given up. Something had opened the dam and now he couldn't stop crying. Slowly, he reached out for a tissue, but he found the box on the bedside table was empty. As he started sobbing even louder, a though crossed his mind, but he discarded it quickly. That was an awful idea, right? But it wasn't impossible, nor was it really difficult, if he could just...
"No! Goddamn it O' Connor, control my arse. You can't even handle your own feelings"
Feelings were such an incredibly confusing concept. How can one person stock so many different things inside of them without bursting? He felt like bursting, like evaporating really. Away from the empty tissue box, the tear-soaked pillow, the voice echoing in his ears over and over again. His voice. He had been the first to break though Enoch's shield of cold and bitter stares. After years of not talking to people and ignoring whatever nonsense is heart was screaming at him, that stupid boy had ruined everything. And slowly, it was getting too much.
'Argh! Stop it! Get out of my head, stop, STOP!'
He didn't know where he had ended up. It was dark, almost reset time, most likely. he looked around, carefully taking in his surroundings. In a blind haze of anger and confusion he had fled out of the house and stranded... on the beach?
"So creative O' Connor, because they can't find you here, can they?"
Mentally insulting himself had become a habit. Ever since he had come, Enoch had been like this. For a month it was going on already, and it seemed like this wasn't the end yet. Nor was it the beginning in fact. But, as Bronwyn used to say so often when reading bedtime stories to the little ones, "The middle of a story is always the worse, it gets better at the end."
But what about the beginning then?