Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or the guitars mentioned, i wish i did though
It was after school, the final bell had rung fifteen minuets before and a lone figure sat alone in the music room
It was after school, the final bell had rung fifteen minuets before and a lone figure sat alone in the music room.
Eragon hummed in the back of his throat quietly as his fingers plucked at the midnight purple and ice blue bass guitar in his hands, he held it with the gentleness one would hold a child or lover. To Eragon the bass was precious.
It was top of the line 1982 Gibson Victory Artist Bass; it was midnight purple with an ice blue fireburst design and scratch plate, it was costume made one of a kind. It was left to him in his mothers will, who had long before died, even before he could crawl, his mother had passed away from cancer.
After his mother died he lived with his uncle, who had also recently died in a car accident along with his cousin and his cousin's fiancée, meaning he currently lived with his adopted mom, Eragon shuddered and turned his thoughts away from that retched women, as his fingers unconsciously started to strum as song he thought he had long ago forgotten.
Silently the tears began to fall as the song spilled from the amplifier beside him, slowly the door opened and arms wrapped around him, slowly his hands stilled as the quiet sobs slightly shook his body.
"Oh 'Agon, what happened?" the gentle voice of his best, and only, friend Saphira kept him in a tight hug until the crying turned into tiny sniffs.
"Arisea's using again," he whispered tiredly. Arisea was his adopted mother.
This was nothing new, really, Arisea was often using, trying new drugs, speed, coke, you name it, she's done it, she would stop, if someone noticed the differences in her or Eragon, and even when it did happened, it would last only for a month or so, and if he was lucky maybe even a few months, it depended on who was suspicious and how badly.
This time, when she quit it was for three months, one of the CPS (1) provided consolers began to notice Eragon was loosing wait and becoming more closed off then usual.
When Arisea began to use again, after one of her breaks, she was okay, a little lighter then usual, but as time progressed, she became angrier, more hostile and all around vicious, even the smallest things set her off.
If Eragon didn't get all the chores done he wouldn't eat for a week, if Eragon faltered in any of the tasked he was asked to do, he would have some form of accident, burnt hand ironing, clumsily trip down the stairs, something like that.
You'd think that a fifteen year old male would be able to over power a twenty-four year old women, but he wasn't. Arisea was strong, naturally, when she was in high school, she was a champion power-lifter, and she still worked out frequently, if she wasn't too messed up anyway.
"Oh Eragon, how bad?" Saphira asked gently rubbing circles on Eragon's back.
"I 'fell out of bed this morning'," he said, lower lip trembling, Saphira continued to rub his back.
"Play me a song," she whispered.
Eragon looked at her and gave a tiny, soft, smile, as his fingers moved up and down the neck as his fingers plucked at the four strings.
While Eragon was playing Saphira curled to his side, her head resting on his shoulder.
When Eragon finished the pair sat in silence, neither wanting to ruin the moment of peace they had. The quietness was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind them.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but public displays of attraction, aren't allowed on school grounds, before, during, or after school, if you want to show your couple status, do it after school." A deep, slightly husky, voice called from behind him.
Eragon turned his head to see Mr. Morzan leaning against the door frame looking pointedly at the two.
"Oh, uh, we're not a couple, we're best friends." Saphira felt the need to tell the teacher who just shrugged and pushed himself of the door frame.
"So, is that your bass?" he asked Eragon, who looked down at the instrument in his hand, and nodded before locking the instrument in its case.
"Gibson Victory, right?" this made Eragon look up, he hadn't met that many people who could identify the bass without reading the cursive ice blue print script on the head stating as much.
"Yes, 1982 Victory Artist," Eragon smiled as Mr. Morzan looked at the guitar with interest.
"I have one of the 1958 white Gibson X-Plorers, but I have also recently bought the black Gibson Shred-X."
Eragon cocked his head, "You mean 1958, only one hundred made X-Plorers?"
Mr. Morzan smirked and nodded.
Eragon, could've –would've loved to- keeping talking guitars with his History and Literature teacher but Saphira placed a hand on top of his.
"Eragon, you'll be late if you don't get going, Arisea might ground you again," she said quietly, not intending their teacher to hear, though he did.
"Oh shi-ahhh!" Eragon began to curse but yelled out in pain as he fell to the floor clutching his side as he accidentally hopped up quickly from his chair.
"Eragon!" Saphira cried dropping to his side. She gingerly removed his hand from his side and pushed his shirt up exposing a nasty purple and black bruise that run halfway up from his hip bone and spread the width of his side.
Mr. Morzan walked over to him, looking over the bruise. "Eragon, what happened?" he asked quietly, his voice almost dead sounding.
"I-I fell out of bed this morning and hit, m-my skate board that was lying beside my bed," Eragon lied shakily.
Mr. Morzan made eye contact with him then, an unknown emotion swept through the hazel eyes. "I know that's not true Eragon, but I won't pry anymore, today, but please, come by my classroom first thing in the morning, I don't have a class until and I'll write an excuse for you."
Eragon bit his lip, he had no choice now, hopefully the older man wouldn't tell anyone, it would only make things more difficult for him.
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Eragon swallowed thickly as he approached Mr. Morzan's room the day after the music room incident, he had barely been able to clean the house in time for Arisea's arrival home, and that's only because he had Saphira's help.
He knocked lightly, silently hoping no one would answer. His hopes were crushed when a quiet, smooth voice called for him to come in.
When Eragon walked into the room and closed the door as instructed, Eragon looked at his teacher; well he had always looked at him, but for the first time ever, took in the others appearance.
Mr. Morzan was tall and had dark hair, and almost as equally dark hazel eyes, his skin was smooth and pale, his frame was skinny yet filled with slightly toned muscle, over all, the man could look very scary and intimidating if he wanted to.
"Eragon, sit down please," Mr. Morzan said pointing to the chair in front of his desk.
Eragon down and the older male moved to lean on the desk so he was only a foot or two away from Eragon.
"So, you wanted to see me?" Eragon asked nervously.
Mr. Morzan sighed, "Eragon, I know you didn't fall out of bed yesterday morning, please, tell me what happened."
"Please, please don't say anything, she'll, I, please," Eragon began to cry quietly.
Mr. Morzan was in front of him in an instant, wrapping his arms around the shaking Eragon, who immediately curled into the comforting warmth.
"Please Eragon, talk to me, I know, I understand, I know it hurts, please talk to me," the older man begged, rocking the teen back and forth.
"You, you, know?" Eragon sniffed.
"Yes Eragon, fuck, yes."
Eragon mumbled something into his teacher's chest.
"I can't hear you Eragon," the older male said gently.
"My adoptive mother Arisea, she uses drugs, a lot, she takes breaks sometimes, you know, make sure nobody notices, and then she'll start again." h e sniffed
"Sometimes she gets angry, and if I don't do my jobs she punishes me, if I don't do my chores, I don't get to eat for a week, if I don't get the food cooked or bought or the bills paid, I'll get involved in an accident, falling off or down something, or I burn my hand while cooking, I know most people think that I should be able to defend myself or over power her, but the drugs, they make her stronger, she lifts weight all the time, and, she, she just-" he chocked on his sobs.
"Shhhh, Eragon I know, Eragon, I know." Mr. Morzan mumbled petting Eragon's hair.
"M-Mr. Morzan?" Eragon hiccupped.
"Murtagh, Eragon, please, call me Murtagh," he mumbled, he usually demanded people call him Mr. Morzan but Eragon was different.
"Murtagh, please, don't tell, she'll just hurt me more the next time." Eragon sniveled.
"I won't, for now, but if it gets worse I won't have a choice Eragon," Murtagh sighed, he knew if he told it would get worse, he knew.
Murtagh pulled away, Eragon, would you like to come over to my house after school today? I want to show you my guitars," That was only part way true; he also wanted to convince Eragon to tell someone about the abuse, some one who could help him, like the police.
Eragon smiled and nodded enthusiastically, he would love to see Murtagh's guitars – Murtagh, the name still sounded foreign to him, he'd never heard a teacher instruct a student to call tem by their first name.
Murtagh looked at Eragon and hid a sigh, his smile was beautiful and Murtagh he would be doing a lot in the future to make sure it stayed on Eragon's lips. This was getting complicated, and it was getting there fast.
Ok so I know this chapter is a little short, but i had to get it posted before i left for vacation.