Home
Brendan had almost lost all meaning of the word. A save haven where you are loved for being you and you only. The dark grey walls that he now inhabited didn't exactly fit that description. He shifted uncomfortably in his bunk to try and regain unconsciousness – the world in which he could deceive himself in to believing the falsified dream of joy….Stephen was always there.
Always smiling and laughing; his golden skin shimmering in the twilight glow of Brendan's imaginative memory. He tried to break these particular dreams, Render them in a thousand pieces of hopelessness, 'cause in the end that's all these dreams were, hopeless.
In some ways these were the best dreams he possessed within him, because they brought him relief from the life he now led, confined in these grey walls of solitude and anger. But these were also the worst dreams he could have because it was that bit more heart wrenching to wake up and discover the cruelty of the world he had been placed in.
Yeah he could talk the talk about being a tough man until he's lips turned blue, but in truth Brendan Brady, the mighty double B was nothing more than a façade, a cover to manipulate the world around him in to believing he was a man in his prime, not to be crossed. Truth was…Well the truth was Brendan had lost all perception of what his true self was like, He had learnt from Danny Houston never to reveal too much about your true identity
"Always keep your cards close Brendan and wear the joker as if it was yourself,"
Danny's words only haunted Brendan now; at the time he had thought the man was being ridiculous. He could understand keeping your cards close but wearing the joker?
It took time to truly understand what he had meant – never show your true colours to anyone…That's where Brendan fucked up.
Again Brendan rolled over creating a rumble of creaking, fortunately there was no one below or above to awaken and annoy, that was one of the perks of solitary confinement, the only perk in fact.
He had once revealed too much to one bar man all the way back in a village that he had once called home. And the series of rickety events that followed, all the sickening, exciting, blood curdling and sensational moments that had proceeded, made him, twisted him out of the mould he had worked so hard to make and had ended him up here.
Sleep was coming; he could feel it, if you could call it that. It was better than where he was though, so he supposed it would do. A tormented reality when Stephen wasn't there , but then that's what life was like when the lad wasn't around – not that he'd ever admit there to anyone.
Finally he managed to drift off; he was unlucky this time, no twilight glow in sight, only the darkest, scariest days he would ever experience.