Chapter One
Hollow Voices
I'd always submerged myself into the rooms of my imagination. The sanctuary inside my head had always been a place of wonderment, curiosity and unknown freedom but most importantly it had been a possible escape from a fearful and harsher reality. The colours of my mind had the ability to liven the dimmest of lights in the darkest nights of my life. The ability to control and create; to dictate the course of the stories that played in my head, was what made the imagination, my imagination one of the most highest attractions, one of my most clung to needs. Wary times had passed within seconds when I lived in my fantasy worlds, imagining fame and fortune and something else, which at the young age of fourteen had trickled slowly into my heart. Droplets at first, which soon enough became an exhausting yet a most beautiful all-consuming ocean. Love. And the need to be loved. At such a time in my life I did not realise the tragedy of what it is to love or the undermining and callous consequences of it. Truthfully in times where love can make a summer last forever, have birds seemingly sing to you and the worries of the world all but disappear, you do not realise the true downfall of your actions.
I had never doubted my sexuality. It wasn't that I could not accept it or struggled to do so but more of that it took me a while to truly understand and realise what it was. Girls and woman for all that they could be, I never found attractive. What of it of them that caused no swelling of desire within me, I could not say. But it confused me to think that such curves of a woman were attractive and something sought for. No while other boys began to grovel and succumb to the biological call of attracting the opposite sex, I found myself pursuing the same sex. My desire had only the strength but of a flame of a candle though but grew with time and when the day that I saw him. He. He who had a body reminiscent of the statues of the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Whose copper skin went unblemished and smooth over his taunt muscles. Whose dark brown eyes had more power to persuade then any of his words could.
Jacob Black.
My Jacob. But he will never be mine.
When I was fifteen and returned to school, the summer had managed to change a boy who had a handsome face yet lacking body into something of my sexual fantasies and quite possibly that of others. Whether it was something in the water or something in the wind, which turned Jacob Black at sixteen into one of the most sought after males at school, who would know. It didn't matter how it happened but the mere effect that it had upon a curios younger boy. A boy who had been looking but had now been locked into a gaze. A gaze that fell upon Jacob Black. My desire for him remained for what it was, an attraction. Hot sweats that turned cold in the cool of the night accompanied many of my thoughts which lingered upon the shape and design of Jacob's body. And that was the safety of such a desire. No consequence to sexual release that was without the wanting for something more, something which would elicit other fulfilling emotions. My luck though would run out. Love is funny for starting out as an attraction, a safety net before it truly takes you deep as it did to me.
The year passed me by and soon it was the night of sixteenth birthday. My house was to be filled with a gathering of many of my friends from school and family friends as well. The Black's being included. Billy Black, Jacob's father and my own had been high school friends, luckily their wives had gotten along just as well. But while often when the two family's met for occasion, I was in the presence of Jacob his attention was more accounted to my older sister, which I at those time had taken no hurt or rejection for. That was the simplicity of the situation. I was the odd one out at these occasions, with my mother with Jacob's mother, my father with Jacob's father and my sister with Jacob. Most often I would find myself bored and retreating into my imagination until the dinner or party or whatever occasion was, had finished. But not the night of my sixteenth. No, this night I anticipated Jacob's arrival into my house. Fully knowing the Black's were coming, Jacob would have to show and would have to talk to me. The nerves havocked me all day. My stomach felt queasy and I felt myself unable to eat anything, forcing myself, just to not feel further sick. And when the night started it started to ease. I became too caught up in welcoming and thanking people for their wishes and presents to realise his arrival. But when I did the world seemed to stop moving and my nerves reached their peak. In such a state I had no second thoughts to what I was doing just going with what I could.
"Happy Birthday Seth!" Billy Black had said to me, taking my loose and sweating hand in his grip with his wife Sarah by his arms and Jacob shortly behind them.
"Happy Birthday Seth dear!" Sarah had said passing me a silvery coloured wrapped present and giving me a hug.
"Uh... Thanks Billy and Sarah" I replied nonchalantly, not entirely focused upon them but rather on their son who stood behind.
They moved off in search of my parents and Jacob came before me. I stood frozen unable to stop myself from staring at him. Stupidly questioning while I was doing so then realising this may be my chance. To have him, to show I want him and make my desires, my fantasies come true.
"Hey Happy Birthday Kid-o!" Jacob said rustling my hair, not really paying attention to me but rather staring around as if he was looking for something. "Where's your sister?" he asked.
I stood there, staring at him. He finally did look at me with a smile and questioning look.
"Uh...She's...Um...by the bar" I stammered.
"Okay cool" he said and then departed.
Was it all that I had hoped for. Jacob Black, taking me in his arms, to then take me to my room and ravage me. No clearly it had not been. But for what it was, it was, simply an awakening. His husky voice stirred my desire even more and my want for him was closely beginning to turn into a grudging and berating need.
But that night had only been the true start of it. And my mind had not yet betrayed me.
That summer, at age sixteen I began to fall for Jacob Black and he was in no way to blame. Often I would find myself at the LaPush beach eyeing him as he and his friends enjoyed the cool sea under the heat of the sun. And that was the closest I got to him entirely for that summer but yet that was enough to fulfil the alarming need to see him. My imagination created the rest. He would't be over there with his friends but instead laying on the towel with me as we gazed into each others eyes and dug our wondering feet into the sand. Or we would be playing in the water, teasing and amusing each other with splashes and pushes until it became something more and we found ourselves with our limbs tangled together and our bodies rubbing together as we passionately kissed. On days of sickness and sadness it would be him that showed up at my front door. There to comfort me and hold me, while I either shed tears or acquired some soup and tissues for healing. And on the hot nights, when the sun has seemed to merge into the night, we would stroll by the beachside restaurants sharing ice-creams and laughing as we frolicked with the enjoyment of each others presence. But he never did do any of these things and now I know that. For some seconds in felt so true but that was only in my mind.
When school came by once more my excitement was overwhelming. High grades the year before allowed me to attend high levelled classes possibly the same ones attended by Jacob. The thought of sharing the same class as him left me yearning to go to school. Waking up in the morning didn't seem so bad knowing that soon enough I could be closer to him. But days come beckoning, time seems to wander and you do not realise how sunken the ship has become. Is it when it finally hits the bottom that you finally awaken. Stop looking from the eye's of your fantasies to those of the reality which comes before you. To realise how hollow your thoughts have become. How they hold no more substance, no more truth which is the matter of their existence.
I would find myself going out of my way just to be in his. Trying to sit as close to him in class to just feel him. Clinging to every word he said as if they were of the most importance. All he would say to me was a greeting, a simple "hey" but that was enough for me, that made my heart flutter and sore for the grand heights. That gave me hope. And his smile, his smile would have me yearn for him more.
At what stage does the want turn into a need...when you find your happiness controlled by it. My good days would become those when I would see him for a second or he would pass me in the corridors of the school with a smile. My bad days no matter what else occurred in the day, would be when I didn't see him at all for the day or if he gave me no greeting in class. In my obsessive state I would think he was ignoring me on purpose just to get me to notice him more or make some sort of excuse or else...Or else I would have the truth finally come to mind. That he didn't like me in such a way, that he didn't have the same want, the same attraction, the same need for me as I for him. And it was those days that I would find myself returning home to only stumble in my room with tears dripping down my face. Crying into my pillow to muffle the sobs of my beating heart as I felt an insane loneliness captivate it in a cold grip.
I could not stop though. Even when the bad days became more common, I would keep yearning and hoping that he would turn around and finally confess all of the feelings he had for me. But that never happened. And when the bad days became continuance that was when I had realised I'd fallen into a state of depression. Unrequited love, if its name could even be associated with love even though it held such pain, had stolen me in a storm. And when the storm had blown over I had been left a hollow figure with nothing to hold and nothing to be held by.
Today I returned home from school just like any other day, hoping that Jacob hadn't turned down into his street but instead was waiting by my house. Waiting to take me into his arms and to love me forever. But he wasn't and the frequent tears began again.
My family could not understand why I was in such a state. My father placing it upon my hormones and the common grouchiness of the teenage years. My mother would often ask me where my smile she once believed was the light of her life had gone. But I always replied with a grumble and few words never letting her know that it had been stolen. Stolen by Jacob Black. I never told them that I had fallen for him. I could never tell them I'd fallen for the man. They wouldn't understand and they wouldn't accept me. Small towns had secluded closed minds. I would have to be independent and far away before I could ever let them know who I was.
For now though I beckon each day hoping something would turn around. Everyone around me has turned into a hollow voice. My friends keep their distance not even them knowing what I'm going through and me not willing to share it with them. Ironically while my fantasies crumble from the weight of reality I find myself venturing further into the depths of my imagination, craving my other wordily thoughts to extinguish reminders of my banal existence.
Thanks for reading. This is my first fanfiction and although I know it's pretty dark and depressing I'm hoping to turn it around in later chapters. This was just an introduction and setting to the story. Thanks again and happy reading! :)