Disclaimer: I don't own digimon =( And none of the songs implied here.
Low five.
"I half expect to find myself in full control of nothing else"
A notebook, a blank word document, chips, chocolates, soda and lots of caffeine. What a new adventure for the blond boy. It's been a while since he decided what he wanted to be, but now it's time to take some action. And when it's better to start than when you're feeling inspired, on vacation and with wind and rain outside?
So he sits himself on a comfortable chair with his provisions in hand. Staring at the screen he starts thinking about a plot, a character, anything…
…But all he sees is that annoying straight line blinking at him, daring him to write something he would be proud of… But nothing comes to mind.
There's a radio by his left, he turns it on almost involuntary.
"I want you love and I want your revenge! You and me could write a bad romance!" The radio sings. And so he sings along. (1)
But as the song ends a male voice comes out of the radio, bothering the boy's hype.
"This is a hurricane (2) alert, we ask for everyone to remain calm and don't leave where you are until it's safe. Blackouts are possible, so please, take the necessary precautions…" Wow, but that was kind of unexpected. The man stops talking and an annoying song about lollipops starts, forcing the boy to turn the radio off. The short moment of silence was broken by the telephone ring.
"Hello? T.K? The signal is poor here! It's mom. Uh… Well, they forced us to stay here at the building, so I won't come home, there's pizza on the fridge honey. I'll call you as soon as I'm able to leave.. Oh and the flashlights are at the…" The signal is gone…
Back at the computer screen. "So…" He says to himself "…There was this guy named Ryan, and he was about to leave the train station to meet his girlfriend and then…" He stops to listen at the crescent rain and the lighting strikes. He goes to the window and checks the black hole that the sky became.
He get's back to the notebook and wonders about taking off the battery charger… Not yet.
He goes back to fiction. Ryan meets with his girlfriend and they decide to go to the movies, a romantic movie, as she claims her will. But all the rooms are full, so they decided to watch "Zombies on mars 3".
Wait, that's just lame… His finger is closer and closer to the backspace key. He takes a bunch of chips and swallow them all, he notices his dirty hands full of potatoes fat (or whatever) and goes to the kitchen on the search of napkins.
The lights flash as he cross the corridor and again as he arrives at the kitchen. "Time to take off the charger" He thinks as he comes back with a napkin package.
…
It's been 10 minutes… He went to the bathroom, ate more chips, listened to the radio, checked the stoned city outside. But Ryan and Lisa are still on the line to zombies on mars 3.
No, this wasn't working out. Ryan and Lisa were great people, with wonderful personalities to work with, but the plot was so awful. So common that he was afraid they would turn into vampires somewhere between pages 2 and 3.
He was back at the zeros. Only that blinking bar again…. He wanted higher, but still nothing comes to mind.
He starts typing, not really wondering what he was doing, as soon as he stopped, Ryan and Lisa were breaking up and he was devastated.
Then the lights go off…
There he is, in the dark (3), the light on the screen and the lighting outside the window were the only thing that broke that suffocating darkness surrounding him. He could feel the shadows breathing at the back of his neck. If only his partner could be here to say some comfortable words like "there's nothing behind you that will drag you to the closet and rip you to pieces, so calm down"
But he was alone. And he knew that. He was alone and there was no one to come as long as it was windy outside. Why Yolei and Cody families decided to travel? It would be so easy for him to ran to one of his friends apartment and stay there till the lights come back. He hated them for it.
He hated his parents for screaming at each other every night. He hated that stupid demon dressed in leather with his god complex and large sized ego that killed his guardian angel. But mostly he hated himself for his nyctophobia. He hated himself for the fact that he never faced his own demons. That he said he was ok when he couldn't sleep without the bathroom lights on and not wanting to face his illness.
But there was no time to make a list of whatever else you hated, that THING was getting closer and closer. It was living and breathing, he could feel it. He need to act, but what would he do if he couldn't even turn around. He was frozen.
Flashlights, he needed then. So he could aim them at whatever looked dangerous and the light would dissipate it. He knew there was one at the end table next to his bed. So he jumped to the
He reached for the shelf and took the flashlight, but his sweat hands let it slip right under his bed. His fear was too much, his hands shaking more and more as he got closer and closer. God! He felt like a coward scared child and the boogeyman was under his bed.
Afraid to look, he randomly shove his hand and quickly searched for the flashlight. Lucky, the member wasn't chopped off neither got dragged. He finds the beloved object and turns it on, completely scanning the bedroom to make sure nothing was out of the usual.
He grabs his notebook and the chocolate and cornered himself with his blanket where he could feel safe and sound. He committed to face his fear and finish the story before the notebook battery ended.
It actually went well for the first five minutes but not for Ryan that, still haven't gone through his old romance, is looking down the bridge where he'll end his life. But something was blocking him to do so.
Something in the corner of his creator's bedroom. Like a black mass slithering on the wall. The writer was too scared to move, to turn the flashlight and send the creature back to wherever it came from.
His body was pleading for attention as his bladder was increasing. After an enormous effort he stood up. Trembling legs almost collapsing, but he made his way to the bathroom after making sure that the mass was nothing but his own mind.
After the relief moment he had by the toilet, he found himself facing against the mirror, the so overused item that thriller directors loved. But the boy was there, face to face against his own foe, himself.
He didn't care if anything horrific would pop out behind him, he was looking at him, and only him. Nothing else would share that train of thought he was with his image.
The disgust on the boy's face was clear, he was sweating, shivering, his hair was a mess and the soda on his shirt (that he let it spill when the mass started to form) wouldn't go out so easily.
How could he turn into this, only by the lack of light? How he avoided this self degradation for so long? Ignored his mental health?
Back to the computer and, after a long self discovering moment, he was pissed. He couldn't think about something that would give him pleasure to write. Ryan was still falling off the bridge, but what once he thought it would be cool to do, was idiotic now. He wanted higher and higher standards, he wanted a masterpiece…
…Nothing comes to mind…
Ryan was dead, his lines were erased and his show was closed.
T.K was alive, but his line was yet to be written and he was waiting backstage for a chance in front of the public.
He stood up, opened the door, and found himself in the middle of his living room. Standing proud of himself. Defiant. The flashes of light from the window could reveal what darkness was keeping for him. But he didn't care. Not anymore.
Still, his body was shivering cold and wet. His bones were failing, he felt that broken limbs were all to hold him now. Tears confused with sweat. He felt itchy, the clothes fabric was right against his skin. His breathing had no pattern, but was as fast as his heart though everything looked so slow and blurred. His throat was blocked, like something was chocking him. He didn't need it, he didn't need to prove himself of what he was capable to do, did he?
He wanted to end everything just like Ryan would. He wanted to end this fear, this hate, this everything. The sound of lighting was deafening. He needed to free himself from this, he moved his legs but felt…
He had lost. The darkness was now able to fully consume him. The last lighting blinded him and everything was white and calm…
He wakes in a hospital bed, heavy movement outside the bedroom, the hurricane was no good. His mother was next to him, but he didn't tell the story as it truly was. He had a once in a lifetime understanding of all, but it didn't meant a thing. (4) He found himself, but half of him he wanted to forget.
And he wants higher, still nothing comes to mind….
THE END!
(1) Lady Gaga is my goodness.
(2)There are no hurricanes on Japan, isn't it? But earthquakes are boring to write about…
(3)(shameless self promotion) Check out my fic "In the dark" if you like Tamers! (Specially Henry) .net/s/5661802/1/In_the_dark
(4) Iris - Whatever love this so underrated band.
I'm quite proud of what this turned into, it was based on one of my favourite songs of all time (cookies if you know from which band it is)
I manage to cover so many subjects I love. Hurricanes, isolation, lack of light, fear of darkness, self hatred. And I adore T.K so much (did it sounded like I hated him?) Review please, and if I made grammar mistakes tell me! I'd appreciate. I notice many of them only after I post it… damn.
I'm going to dance somewhere else now...
Review please!!! (how repetitive)