Sorry Guys! Like most other authors, school and stuff has stopped me from writing. I just wanted to post something, y'know, to keep you busy. Sorry that the next chapter in my other story, Love Hurts, is taking forever. I just don't want to post a rubbish chap, so it may be a while for the next chap of that D:
Oh, yeah, and this is a songfic. The song is called The A Team, by Ed Sheeran. It's really sad and touching. It deserves praise, and if you haven't heard it, YouTube it now.
Disclaimer/Warning: Don't own SP or this song. PS, this story has drugs and rape in it, so….err…yeah. Just telling you that.
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White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men
The redhead sat alone in the dark alleyway. His pale skin was even paler than usual. So pale, that it almost matched the pure white snow surrounding him.
He took another long drag from his cigarette, before butting it out on the cold ground, and tossing it away.
Delicate snowflakes fell, nestling themselves in his fiery curls. He didn't care.
Around him, was nothing but darkness. The small town he lived in was falling apart. The wall he leant against was crumbling away, and the streetlamp above barely allowed him to see.
He made himself comfortable in the street. He knew this would be his future home anyway. His mom could barely afford to pay rent on their shitty apartment anymore. He knew he was going to be homeless within a week.
It had been at long night. He remembered what had happened earlier, and began to cry softly. Ever since his parents had split up a few years ago, his world had changed forever. His mom had new boyfriends every week, each one more rough and abusive than the other one.
A few more tears began to fall. He missed Ike. Ike wasn't his real brother, but he felt like one. The two had always been close, until Gerald tore him away…
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
He gently traced the scars that his Mom's new boyfriend had given him. They stung, but not as much as the last time….
He shut his eyes tightly, desperately trying to forget what had happened the last time, but he couldn't. His Mom's boyfriend had raped him.
He curled into a ball for warmth, trying to fall asleep, but lately, he just couldn't. He feared that his mom's boyfriend would rape him again while he was asleep. He had even moved into the streets to be away from him, but still, he felt paranoid. Who knew what dangers could be lurking around the corner?
His lack of sleep was greatly affecting his appearance. What was once known as the cutest, and smartest boy in class, was now an empty shell. His red hair was no longer as vibrant as it had once been, and his skin was deathly pale. His emerald eyes, once bursting with life, were now dull, with heavy bags under them.
What had become of him?
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
He carefully held the hundred dollar note in his frozen hand. He felt overpowered with guilt to be holding it, knowing how he had got it.
His mom's boyfriend had raped him, but of course, Kyle could have easily stopped him. But when the bribe of money was put into the question, Kyle had let him do it.
Money had made him do it. Money was why his life was in ruin. The redhead glared at George Washington's head on the piece of paper. Did George want this? Did George want to make life's crumble?
Stuffing it into his pocket, he got up, and walked to the shabby, run down shop at the end of the street. He pushed open the peeling door, to the heavy scent of drugs.
He walked to the counter, ignoring the looks he was getting from all the creeps in the room.
"The Usual" He whispered, passing the note over to the man behind the counter. I reply, the man grunted, and handed him and small pouch.
Silently, Kyle turned and walked out the door, into the night.
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
Carefully, he turned the key in the door and let himself in, trying not to wake his mother and her boyfriend.
He pulled off his soggy orange coat, and worn out gloves, and threw them on the floor. As he did so, he noticed his mom's purse. Curiously, he peered inside, only to find a few cents, nickels, and only a couple of notes. Not enough to last the week.
He rubbed his tired eyes, desperate for sleep, but while his mom's boyfriend was around, sleep was what he would not do. He crept past his mom's room, holding his breath as he heard movement.
The door opened, to reveal his mom's boyfriend, with an evil glint in his eyes. He quickly grabbed Kyle's arm, but Kyle wriggled free, and burst out the door, fled down the stairs, and into the cold alleyway he'd previously been in.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
He sighed, and closed his eyes, picturing a perfect life. A life where his family were back together, and his grades raised again, and Stan and Kenny became his friends again, and his mom's boyfriend was out of the picture, and he wasn't poor.
He knew himself that he was gonna have to stop daydreaming. Daydreaming only made him want these things more, but still, he couldn't stop himself. He tried to think that if he kept picturing life like this, it would become a reality. He knew it was stupid, but he just wanted to believe.
Then, he thought of Stan and Kenny, his old best friends. Kenny had gotten rich, and being near Kyle made him think of his old life, and brought him down, so he avoided Kyle. Stan tried to stay faithful to his best friend, but he soon couldn't bear to be near him anymore, and eventually ditched him, leaving Kyle alone.
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple of grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
Kyle shivered in the snow. He regretted leaving without his coat, as now, he was locked out, wearing a white t-shirt, and his green jeans. He was in such a rush, he had forgotten his shoes.
Taking the pouch from the pocket in his jeans, he emptied the white powder into his cupped hand, and sniffed it up.
Sighing with relief, he loosened himself, and leant against the hard wall.
Lying in the snow, a passer-by might've mistaken him for an angel, but then again, Kyle used to be an angel. He used to be polite, smart, cute, caring, kind, and considerate of others.
Too bad that money had caused the downfall of that angel. And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upper hand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die
Taking his last breath, Kyle finally relaxed, and lay perfectly still in the snow, green eyes closed forever.
At last, this angel had returned to his rightful place in Heaven.
Sad, isn't it? Please review! Reviews will make Kyle a happy angel! If you don't, Kyle will fall into Hell! Think about poor Kyle! Save him from Hell with a review!
Cooki xxx