Vertigo

Everything was spinning non-stop, it was only making everything worse. Everything blacked out, giving the two a spotlight in his eyes. He just wanted it all gone, maybe he could escape the night as it spun. He couldn't handle the pressure, it was just too much for him. Enough to make him panic, which he did. He shivered and shook as he made his way through the crowd, he felt broken. Not as broken one would originally assume, he was just a mess. He wanted to cry, to sob into a pillow while fluid escape from his eyes and nose. He wasn't stupid, he was in constant pressure. He just shakes and panic to be understood, the way he stuttered over his words. Biting his tongue as he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, pulling out the lighter, he inhaled and the bitter scent in his mouth. Escaping from his nose. Breathe in and out, slowly, ever so slowly. He choked.

He dropped the cigarette, he crushed the remains under his foot. How could Craig handle these? W-whatever. He was a mere fool believing that he- a freak, would actually grab the silent punk's attention. He shook as he closed his eyes and sighed. The air was just as cold as ever, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. He just couldn't get over that they were together, they were just using each other! Then again, he would've been too. He looked up the starry sky, wondering, who would want a human vibrator? He knew, Craig knew, everyone knew, that it was no one. No one. He crushed the carton in his pocket, a small tear shed from his left eye.

How could a anyone love a boy who had golden spikes form, from every corner of his head, shaking every second, sputtering the things that fill his cranium, and has a heterochromia. Inheriting his mother's mint green and his father's honey brown. He wished why he couldn't be normal, he was just a nuisance to everybody. Looking to see where he was, he saw that he was nearly home, he froze at a certain spot, in front of the Tucker's house. Why'd they have to live on the same street? He sighed, 'Wish I had coffee just about now,' but he was nearly home, he could have all the coffee he wanted. To sugary and warm vanilla to semi-sweet chocolate, just the way he liked it.

He felt his mouth water, he licked his chapped lips and his shakiness increased. He walked faster, panting lightly, before he can cross the street, a car came speeding down. When it speed across him, he stopped shaking and paled. 'It NEARLY hit me!' He swallowed his scream and just started walking slowly, fearing for his life. Making it to the door, he searched his pocket, couldn't find the keys, he freaked out and spatted different theories why they were missing. Then he reached his back pocket, feeling stupid when he felt the key's edge, he shakily slid the key into the lock, he responded with a nervous tone," I-I'm home.."

No answer.

"D-dad? M-m-mom?" his voice more timid than before, he expected them to be waiting for him for being so late. He wasn't exactly thief material, everyone outta notice, which they do but.. getting off track, he went upstairs to see if they were in their room. Taking his first step, it screeched loudly, "ACK-K!" He forgotten that the final-first step of the stairs was always the loudest, after he screamed, he heard a loud /thump!/ 'C-crap, I probably wo-oke them u-up.' He still went up, slowly (or sneakily in his opinion) he went closer to the door. Opening it, hoping it doesn't creak, he peaked in the small opening,"G-guys, I'm h-home." No response. Deep sleepers.

He then saw something on the curtains, it looked like splatter...he choked on a gasp. 'No, no, no , no, NO! Maybe, they spilled coffee and...or maybe, they were... ' Every crazed theory came to his mind, but they still didn't make sense. Crushing his eyelids together to hold back the tears, and taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Squeaking open, he revealed something he wanted to unseen. There was blood covering the floor, there was trails from the bed to their closet, judging from it, they put up a fight. But they were still caught. But it was only one. He looked on his bed and choked on a sob.

Laying on the bed was his father with a gun in his mouth, he dropped to the floor. Rapidly blinking his eyes, he hoped that it was just his fucked up imagination. It did this before, a hundred of times. S-shit, why is this happening!? Slowly getting up, turning to bolt downstairs to...to do something. His mouth suddenly covered, and he was held (more like crushed), cold sweat slithered down his neck. He then felt it being licked by his captor, he heard him give out a deep chuckle,"It looked like 'e did it right? Gone crazy and tried so desperately to 'ide 'er in da closet, just to realize it wasn't a dream and killed 'imself. But ya see Tweaky, I didn't do dis all fer myself, I did it 'cause I was paid to do it. Ya undastand? To kill dem and make ya go missin', so far it looks good."

His eyes were closed tightly, he didn't want to hear this. Not any of it. "But da problem is, now what am I gonna do wit' you? Dey said I couldn't harm a hair on yer scrawny head," he licked his ear at this point," But 'ave to say you look almost good 'nuff to eat." He laughed, oh God, how that sent chills down his spine. Opening his eyes, he saw the it blur and blacken as he slowly fainted. He heard murmurs,

''You were supposed to take him out of here and bring him to the truck, not scare the living fuck out of him!"

'' 'ell 'scuse me for 'aving a bit of fun.''

"whatever, just help me carry him out ''

''you can carry 'imsel-''

Everything went silent as he passed out.