Hello, all! I'm back once again for a Chad-centered angst fan fiction! Well, I'm not sure if my other was entirely angst, but this one sure as heck is! Warning: If you scream at the thought of someone's life being miserable even though it doesn't seem like it, leave. Now. –Claps hands- Whelp! That's taken care of!
By the way, don't ask me if I own Sonny with a Chance. If you're seriously naive enough to think I own Sonny with a Chance, le'me give you a news flash, buddy. If I owned SWAC, do you seriously think it would be as happy-go-lucky as it is now and have as little to with Chad as it does? Hmmm?
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Shall this make you cry? I don't know, actually. It depends who twisted your emotions get when you read things about people's horrid past…
Alrighty! Here we go! :]
Counting Seconds
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, in which moonlight couldn't seem to find a way to shine brightly into. The clock on the wall seemed to emit a deafening sound that seemed to echo around the room slower and slower, but taking just as long to fade.
The boy who was sitting on his bed cringed at the sound that kept repeating itself, over and over and over. It was marking the seconds that went by. The seconds he'd have without sleep, the seconds he'd ignore after the next two days had passed, the seconds he'd be spending alone.
He quietly sat there, legs crossed over one another and the navy blanket underneath him crumpled from its usual straight manner. He tried to occupy himself. He stared at the walls, which were a light tan, before his attention quickly switched to something he'd rather not think about. He continued on through several different objects, but couldn't escape the memories the house he was currently in held. This was the reason he preferred to stay in his dressing room, rather than go home. This was the reason he wasn't able to look his father in the eye anymore. This was the reason he wasn't ever the person he'd prefer to be!
He quickly shook his head, causing a wave of beautiful dirty-blond hair to travel through the air for a few more of those sickly horrifying sounds. Just trying not to let lose something unwanted, he closed his eyes in an effort to think of something—anything—that would keep his mind from traveling onto forbidden grounds. Taking in a deep breath, the boy thought about her.
When her image floated into his mind, a smile raced his features. She was probably the only reason he was as stable as he was now. Had she not come when she did, he was for certain he would've gone insane. It was hard to live when the only thing that kept you from breaking, the only thing that could keep your mind off things, was hard enough to live through. When you had to lock up the feelings everyday that threatened to drive you over the edge, life became just a bit harder to withstand, and the difficulty of it grew each day. With something like that waswearing down your heart, and the secret you held threatened your life it ever was told, you weren't exactly the most...happy person on the planet.
He focused on her smile, her laughter, and her happiness. When she laughed, he laughed, even if it was about the most ridiculous thing, or it was the corniest joke he'd ever heard. She was the only candle he had left burning to light his way. If her flame went out, he would veer off the path before him and he was for certain he'd never be found.
As he thought about her, the horrifying sounds that continually thundered around his room and mind blurred together, and finally, all was silent. But, all was also dark.
The peaceful silence surrounded him, and his eyes remain closed. He just had to focus on something…Focus on her…Stay sane and 'live' the life he had before him…
The blissful silence that once comforted him shattered with the sound of a horrifying scream. He franticly opened his and looked around, only to find himself still in his room. He stared at the window. Did I sleep that late? The sun was blazing through his blinds, representing yet another hot summer day. He slid out of his bed to investigate, suddenly realizing that it hadn't been him screaming for a change. He placed his hand on the knob of the door leading to the hallway, only to see his trembling fingers. Something about that scream had seemed so familiar…
Stay focused, Chad… He mentally talked himself out of his frantic state. There's nothing to be afraid of. It's probably just your imagination. Though this calmed his fingers, Chad couldn't cease the thoughts swirling around in the back of his mind. What if it was him again? What if he did that to that bitch of a woman he brought home with him? What if he was going to do the same thing?
He inwardly slapped himself. Cool it. You're Chad Dylan Cooper, for Pete's sake!
Ha! Chad Dylan Cooper doesn't have a conversation with himself outside his hallway.
Yeah, I know, Chad does.
And you know what else Chad does? He answers that other voice in his head whom he claims to be a completely different person.
But I'm not Chad Dylan Cooper! I am different from that stuck-up idiot!
You mean to one you're talking to right now?
Yes.
And I'm the idiot here? Look in the mirror, bub'.
Last time I checked, Chad Dylan Cooper doesn't say things like that.
Really Chad, really?
This time, Chad physically slapped himself. Hard. Right across his face.
"That's it. I am insane."
He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. It slowly made its way out into the hallway, bringing an awful creaking sound along with it. Chad cringed. Something about this situation seemed all too familiar.
He crept into the hall, finding all the lights on. He found this odd. His mom had always believed in leaving a light on in every common spot, the hallway being one of the few. 'Common' places consisted of mostly his mom and his company, his dad never spending much time with them. But every since that happened, the lights were almost always off in the hallway. He heard the hallway clock beside him chime two in the afternoon, and his eyes widened. Oh…no…not…T-This can't be happening again!
He rushed towards the living room, noticing his jagged reflection in the broken mirror he passed.
No…
He halted at the end of the staircase, staring in disbelief. The grandfather clock in front of him had finished chiming, and was again clicking. Counting the passing seconds…
Tick…
"No…"
He was frozen at the sight before him. The deafening sound crept into his ears and made his head ache.
Tick…
"No."
He took a step forward, only to hear a splashing sound coming from underneath him. It made that sound like when you step into a puddle on a rainy day. He looked down slowly and in horror.
Tick…
"Oh God…"
The crimson liquid that was now seeping around his bare feet and sinking into his skin was horrifying. His head shot straight forward and then he saw it. "Mom…" He took one last glance at his mother before noticing his father's approach. The he knew it. It had been him screaming after all. A sickening pain throbbed through his skull when his father came into arms length. That atrocious laugh of his echoed around him as he fell to the ground and his sparkling cerulean eyes went dull.
He sat straight forward, not even panting. He couldn't find breath in his lungs, only to find out he was letting it all out in a horrifying screech. He desperately tried to silence himself, the fear of his father's possibility of being home chilling him to the bone. He found air then burning his lungs, but he couldn't get enough into himself. Rather than long even breaths, he was taken short, jagged breaths that occasionally made him choke, despite his need for oxygen. His fingers were trembling and his body was numb, but he forced himself out of his bed and through his bathroom door on the far wall. He quickly shut it and locked it with difficulty, then turned towards the pill cabinet. Franticly searching, he looked for the orange bottle the doctor had given times like these. Finally grasping it, he grabbed two and shoved them into his mouth, swallowing them just before barging into the wall beside him.
His hyperventilation slowly eased to panting. This then progressed to for the most part breathing normally. He slid down the wall, trying to be as quiet as possible. He reached the floor and set his head on the marble surface behind him. His hands still trembled, but the medicine wasn't designed for curing fear. He tightened his fingers into fists and squeezed his eyes shut. A stinging liquid burned his skin, rolling down the creases of his face and dropping onto his knees. Through his silence, he could hear a car pull up around his house and into the driveway. He silenced himself completely, making one last glance at the door handle to make sure it was locked.
The silence also brought along another sound. He could still hear the clock (which his father had refused he take down or turn off) from his room ticking the seconds, minutes, and hours away.
He cringed in emotional pain, and then let out a ragged breath.
The clock sung midnight.
He sighed.
Just one more day… Chad let her image drift back to the front of his thoughts. He beautiful face, he perfect chocolate hair, and her eyes that said everything word couldn't explain. He would've smiled in his face wasn't so pained by the frown it was suck in. "Just…" he sighed out. "Just one more day…"The sound of the clock echoed around his empty room, and traveled into the bathroom and into his thoughts.
Tick, tick, tick…