Not mine, never happened, no money (fuck, too bad)
Know You're Not Alone
I coughed a bit, the pressure constricting my throat for a few moments.
Oh, the hedonsist screams that had erupted from that throat on stage. The heathen songs sung by those dry lips. That which no longer seemed my own. And now I lay, an admirer from afar, not quite knowing or touching or seeing.
I heard the front door crash open, shouts and peals of laughter heard, heralding an allover joyous mood.
"Harry! You still sleepin, ya lazy bum?" I heard my name called out by Ron, the lead guitarist of my band, The Strutting Harlots. He was also my best friend since school.
"Haaaarrrryyyyy, c'mon, peekab-" Ron's wheedling voice harshly cut off in a halt. "Fuck, where is he?"
I coughed, a little wheezing sound, I didn't mean to, I swear. I really hadn't wanted to, damn me, a plague upon my house, and a thousand years of blackness upon me.
Ron came to the bathroom door immediately, "Dude, you alright?" his voice ruptured in concern.
I lay, not moving or even daring to breathe, hoping he would take the hint and leave, after all I had hoped I would have been dead by now, and the door wasn't locked. No such luck, for I had seemed to have forgotten that Ron was in fact, Ron. Ron, being Ron, did not take the hint. He, instead, opened the door.
What a sight, I can only imagine.
"Harry? No, please no, Harry, no, no, no." his voice tapered off in rough despair.
The he proceeded to erupt with, "Hermione! Seamus! Dean! Neville!"
Ron ran to me, taking my shoulders, tightly into his arms, nearly engulfing me.
"Why, man? I love you.we all love you."
And so, I told him a story, "Once there was a boy who had a vibrant glow, but, as it goes, someone took it from him. One day through the rain I heard him meekly moan, he said, 'Will you wrap your arms around me, as I'm falling?'
Remember when we were all so beautiful? But since then we've lost our glow.
They said it hurt their eyes but he would never know, that they were filled with regret as their own dissapated. He said, 'I now feel more desperately alone, even though they'd wrapped their arms around me, as I'd fallen'."
The trob in my wrists had long since stopped, and I was surprised I had held conciousness for this long. I was now bleeding almost sluggishly.
Ron hooked his left arm about me and lifted his right hand to touch my now cold cheek as the world began to rapidly blur and my ees glazed over.
"A single touch, before I fade. And I fall, weightless."
Black.
Do you want to know why they call it the "Closet"? Because it's cold, dark, and dead in there. Every day I died a little more from the lack of air, and was numbed a little more from the frigid atmosphere. Laughing at all of the gay jokes and such, I was torn apart and torn up.
No one did anything wrong.
It's just.
I think I fell apart, Instead of falling down.
A cookie to those who can name both songs, which band, and what album title(s).
-PBn-
Know You're Not Alone
I coughed a bit, the pressure constricting my throat for a few moments.
Oh, the hedonsist screams that had erupted from that throat on stage. The heathen songs sung by those dry lips. That which no longer seemed my own. And now I lay, an admirer from afar, not quite knowing or touching or seeing.
I heard the front door crash open, shouts and peals of laughter heard, heralding an allover joyous mood.
"Harry! You still sleepin, ya lazy bum?" I heard my name called out by Ron, the lead guitarist of my band, The Strutting Harlots. He was also my best friend since school.
"Haaaarrrryyyyy, c'mon, peekab-" Ron's wheedling voice harshly cut off in a halt. "Fuck, where is he?"
I coughed, a little wheezing sound, I didn't mean to, I swear. I really hadn't wanted to, damn me, a plague upon my house, and a thousand years of blackness upon me.
Ron came to the bathroom door immediately, "Dude, you alright?" his voice ruptured in concern.
I lay, not moving or even daring to breathe, hoping he would take the hint and leave, after all I had hoped I would have been dead by now, and the door wasn't locked. No such luck, for I had seemed to have forgotten that Ron was in fact, Ron. Ron, being Ron, did not take the hint. He, instead, opened the door.
What a sight, I can only imagine.
"Harry? No, please no, Harry, no, no, no." his voice tapered off in rough despair.
The he proceeded to erupt with, "Hermione! Seamus! Dean! Neville!"
Ron ran to me, taking my shoulders, tightly into his arms, nearly engulfing me.
"Why, man? I love you.we all love you."
And so, I told him a story, "Once there was a boy who had a vibrant glow, but, as it goes, someone took it from him. One day through the rain I heard him meekly moan, he said, 'Will you wrap your arms around me, as I'm falling?'
Remember when we were all so beautiful? But since then we've lost our glow.
They said it hurt their eyes but he would never know, that they were filled with regret as their own dissapated. He said, 'I now feel more desperately alone, even though they'd wrapped their arms around me, as I'd fallen'."
The trob in my wrists had long since stopped, and I was surprised I had held conciousness for this long. I was now bleeding almost sluggishly.
Ron hooked his left arm about me and lifted his right hand to touch my now cold cheek as the world began to rapidly blur and my ees glazed over.
"A single touch, before I fade. And I fall, weightless."
Black.
Do you want to know why they call it the "Closet"? Because it's cold, dark, and dead in there. Every day I died a little more from the lack of air, and was numbed a little more from the frigid atmosphere. Laughing at all of the gay jokes and such, I was torn apart and torn up.
No one did anything wrong.
It's just.
I think I fell apart, Instead of falling down.
A cookie to those who can name both songs, which band, and what album title(s).
-PBn-