Drowning in Deception
The holidays are coming around, and it's all but pleasant for a certain blonde. When his little secret is accidentally discovered by his good friend Dark, it seems the whole turns against him.
Chapter 1
...
Krad sighed heavily, closing the door behind him. His face, sore from smiling to hide his grief settled into a careless frown and he sank down heavily onto the chair next to his desk.
Closing his eyes and leaning back a bit, he stared at the ceiling, listening to the voices outside. They were all so happy. So jovial. So unlike him.
Reaching effortlessly, the blonde grabbed the notebook sitting on the hard surface in front of him and fumbled around for a pen until he finally spotted one. Gripping it gently, he tapped it against the desk before settling deeper into the chair and writing the first thoughts that came to mind.
His words, written in his unique, elegant scrawl, alluded to a poetic side.
Sitting here in turmoil, reflecting times long past,
Trying to recall, the time I smiled last,
And by that, please understand,
I mean not the mask at hand,
The one I always hide behind to veil this growing fear,
Wishing oh so quietly the end be drawing near
Krad smirked painfully at the paper in front of him, scanning the words that littered the page. Pathetic, that's what it was. He was putting on a show—leading his friends to believe he wasn't the blonde sitting in the corner quietly pondering the swiftest way to destroy every trace he ever existed.
Oh, yes…that was a rather interesting thought. Krad, one of the most popular males in the entire school…entire town for that matter, trying to make everyone forget about him.
Why?
No one had ever asked. How could they ask if they didn't know?
Inwardly, he mused if he should enroll in some sort of therapy, though he rejected the thought almost instantly. Everyone was always saying how death and cutting were such horrible things, though he'd never seen them to be such. Leaning back in his chair, he wondered if he was blind from in some aspect. Was there really something in life he was missing? Was there something to bring back the thoughts of happiness? Something to bring back the feeling that made him feel like he was important in someone's eyes?
The blonde let out a dry chuckle. There was no one to say it for him, so he spoke for them. "No. There isn't anything. Such a fool, such a fool…"
He picked up his pen and scribbled more words, his mind drifting farther away.
When you ask if I'm okay,
It's so easy just to say,
"I'm doing wonderful today,"
But how I dearly wish I may,
Warn, "I may never be okay"
Still, inside I know I can't—you'd never understand,
You'd yell and scream at me, and then you'd reprimand,
Cursing me for my own mutilation,
Damning me for my own devastation
The blonde scowled again, tearing the sheet of paper from the notebook and crumpling it up into a wad before disposing of it in a wastebasket. He wasn't a poet by any means, so his sad attempts at self expression through pretty words left him disgruntled and angry; he was ashamed he could even degrade himself to such lows.
He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, then, and glanced carelessly at the many scars littering his arm. He couldn't believe no one had ever noticed, though even while he remained in spiteful for their ignorance, he was simultaneously relieved that no one had never discovered his weakness. The last thing he needed was the lot of them chasing him up a tree for something he couldn't help.
He stared for a few moments, tracing his finger over some of the more visible lines—an array of red and white and all colors in between—before he pulled his sleeve down again, effectively hiding all traces of his cutting. Moving by his open window, he glanced outside. The view from his second story room was rather uninteresting, though let him easily take a glimpse at the outside world. It was dark. Dull. Nothing particularly interesting about the sky, he realized that he might be the only one paying attention to the grayed clouds. They weren't really worthy of attention and would likely go unnoticed unless they decided to rip themselves apart and spill their mighty torrents, drowning the world in it's misery.
The weather was perfect.
Perfectly matching his mood.
As long as he kept his mouth shut, no one would ever know his secrets. Never get in his way, never try to help him with absolutely stupid advice he would never listen to, never—
The door opened slightly, and a tanned face peeked in. "Hey—I thought I'd find you here. Krad?"
The blonde cocked his head to the side, averting his gaze from the outside world to the figure standing in the doorway. "Hmm?"
"Krad…are you okay?" Dark asked, stepping inside, closer towards the blonde.
Krad paused in thought, recollecting himself before smiling falsely. "Of course I'm okay! Don't be stupid, why wouldn't I be?"
Dark shrugged, grinning. "I don't know. I mean, I've known you for what, almost eight years now? You just don't seem like the type of person who would be sulking during the holidays!"
Oh. Well, Dark…maybe eight years wasn't enough. You still don't know me, really.
"I suppose you might be right about that. Thanksgiving isn't much of a holiday, though…" Krad said, moving from the window and walking towards Dark; he subtly tugged at the long sleeves of his sweater, assuring they covered not only his arms but down to his knuckles as well.
"Who cares—there's a lot of food. Let's go—Daisuke and Satoshi are getting anxious. They want to head over to Emiko's right now."
Krad couldn't deny that he was at least mildly amused. "Are you sure that isn't just you?"
Dark smiled sheepishly. "Okay, you figured me out. Can we leave?"
Krad nodded. "Let me just get my coat. I'll be out in a minute.
Dark grinned widely. "Thanks. I'll go tell Dai and his creepy little boyfriend."
"You do that," Krad said watching as Dark disappeared from view; he didn't bother to stick up for his brother merely because he was so used to Dark's 'affectionate' nickname for his younger sibling.
He sighed heavily, reaching for his white winter coat and slipped it over his thin body, tossing his gaze outside.
"Lying…I really should stop lying to them…"
"Lying to who?" Dark said, popping back into view.
Krad blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Lying to…no one. It's not important. You wouldn't understand."
"You sure?"
"Do I look like I could ever lie to you?"
"Well…no…not really," Dark said, scratching the back of his neck.
"You should pay more attention, then," Krad said, walking past Dark and into the hallway.
"Wait…what? Krad—?"
"Come on, it isn't important. Let's go."
Dark stared at his friend for a long moment. Not important? Bull shit. He might have missed a lot of obvious things, though he'd never been one to miss the important things, and right now he could tell that something was wrong with his friend.