Simplicity for the Complex

by The newbie phan

Come into the small world of New Jersey and learn that anything really can happen! I have most of the originals, although our main characters are OC types. Erik and Ambrosia have an extremely unsettling and eventful childhood behind them. So what if they met 7 years later through highschool? What will come back to haunt them? ***DONE FOR THE TIME BEING!***

2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay so here's the next chapter. Thank you for the reviews and the silent readers! :) Still, though, please drop me a line on what you thought of the chapter and please enjoy! :) Oh and I forgot the disclaimer last time. So: Although I take the story line and OC types, I own nothing else. :) Thank you!

***WARNING: MEMORIES OF CHILD ABUSE***

Chapter 2:

Erik's POV:

The building was packed wall to wall with new students. Everyone was going absolutely insane over how slow the people were moving and how nervous they are about their freshman year. Except for me. I was just focused on the way this year will go. Because I already knew. First, I'd be the 'Vampire kid'. Then there would be crazy rumors about me. Then I wouldn't get any attention, (how I like things). And finally I would have to pick a few fights with the smart-alecs who thought I would be easy to make fun of for the way I am. That's how it went ever since I got away from that drunkard of a parent that I was forced to grow up with. Ever since Ambrosia and her ill-fated father saved me. I think of them every day. Ambrosia, the kind, compassionate, bold, beauty that I had the privilege of living with. And then there was her father. Robert Pryde. He was the smartest, most caring, and definitely the happiest man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. That was my family for the best 3 years of my life. Then, that bliss came to an abrupt end. I told Ambrosia that I would be out for a minute to pick up all of our toys from earlier that day. Well, a few minutes turned into a few years. I was beat up and stuffed in a bag. I tried to scream but a man was gagging me so hard that I thought my jaw would snap. Next thing I knew, I was in a very strange smelling space. Then I blacked out. I couldn't remember anything after that until I woke up. I woke up in some sort of shack with very little light emanating from a few candles, and a bunch of tools.

Then I remember screaming so loud that I was almost sure that I had robbed my captor of all of his hearing permanently. I was tied to the wall by a thick cord rope that felt like it was slicing through my skin with every breath I took. I searched around the room for any kind of object that could help set me free. But alas, all those things were far from my grasp. I tried to scream again, but just as I took in a breath to try to call for help, a large, rough, clammy hand wrapped around my mouth so I couldn't make a sound. Oh no. I knew those hands. But how? He was sent to jail! The sentence for child abuse is 11years in New Jersey! I tried to wrench out of his tight hold, but to no avail. All I gained was a quick glimpse of his grim, sinister, snarling face. And then all of my fears had been confirmed. It was him. Dad came back to finish me off. He saw my worry cross my masked face and a flash of fear in my eyes, and he started curling his lips into an evil grin. God, I hate this man so much. He loosened his grip on my mouth a fraction of a centimeter, but that was all I needed. I belted out the loudest screech I could muster but that was a very bad idea. For once I gasped for breath, he shoved me against the wall with my feet dangling inches off the ground. It felt like a vice was constricting my throat so tight that you could see my face turn a deep magenta, a stark comparison to my midnight black mask. I knew his patterns. First, he would try to scare me as best as he could, then he'd wear me down emotionally, and for the finale, he'd rip my mask from my face and beat the living daylights out of me. 'Speak of the devil…'

After his hold around my neck wrenched me from the wall and chucked my across the splintering wood floor, (which I'm sure made my rump look like a porcupine), he held me in place with his big, smelly, booted foot. I was gasping for air at this point and couldn't get more than a small pant of oxygen to rattle through my body. He saw my fear and confusion and tore the words right out of my bloodied mouth. "That's right, corpse. I'm back. It's a good thing, too. We couldn't let you have too much happiness, now could we? Then it's also good that the judge likes money. Isn't that right, demon?" I'm sure that the color that flooded the veins to my face was red at one point, but what he said next, made my blood boil, and freeze all at the same time. "That's right, I bribed the judge with what money I hadn't already spent of your college account that your weak-link mother put together for you before you murdered her, you little dead beat." He used my money?! That naturally made me furious, but what he said about mom had made my fuse come to an abrupt end. "I DIDN'T KILL MOMMY! SHE WASN'T A WEAK LINK, YOU ARE! BECAUSE YOU CANT EVEN STOMACH THE SIGHT OF ME! YOUR OWN SON!" I managed to gasp out those words until all my anger came to an end. And instead faded into a whole different animal. Black rage. I pounded on his foot and legs until he laughed. That wouldn't do, no way. So instead, I pretended to be worn down and beat up. I had my hand above where my head lain on the floor. He went on to try to hurt my some more, but before he could kick me, I dug up a chunk a loose floor board. It was a very sharp piece, luckily. So, just as he swung his leg around to kick my right side, I dug the shard of limber wood into his fat leg. He cried out in agony. Now was my chance. I took hold of his foot and pulled hard. Do you know the saying, "the bigger they are, the harder they fall"? Well, let's say that he had to have fallen at 100 miles an hour, and that he almost left a hole in the floor where he landed. I picked myself up from my vulnerable state and figured that there was no other way to get out unharmed. So, I jumped up and landed as hard as I could force myself down right on top of the fallen giant. He did exactly as I had planned. He screamed out in pain, but then shoved me off with all his might. This sent me stumbling to the ground, far away from him. I bet my bottom looked like a bloody cactus now, but that was what had to happen and that was the least of my worries now. I had to get to that candle, or I had to get the metal loop gripping this rope out of the wall. I settled for the latter, for when I finally picked myself up, he was already charging full speed at me. I took the blow right in the ribs, but I pulled my arm up so then I could yank the metal out of the dilapidating wall. And I must have gotten lucky. Because now I was free of my bonds.

As I took the other end of the rope in my hand, I fastened a noose out of it, just in time to leap out of the way of my abuser. Once he hit his head into the wall, I swung the lasso around his fat neck and hissed into his ear, "You'll never hurt me or my family ever again." And with that last little threat, I heaved with all my might to try to tighten the loop around the man's neck. I was successful. I glared straight into the eyes of a dead man. But then it hit me. Reality smacked me right in the face. 'Erik the murderer! Erik the killer! Erik the devil!" Oh my god, I killed a man! And with those heart-freezing, un-savory thoughts, I busted out of the shack and ran full speed to the first house that I saw. I pounded on the door so loudly that I'm sure the houses next door all heard my incessant racket. "Help! Someone answer the door! Please!" And finally, at long last, a young man with very dark brown hair, dark skin and dark eyes to match answered my pleas. "Please! Tell me where I am! I was taken and I don't know where he took me! Where am I?" The boy sighed and let me in his home. He flicked on the lights in a little room with oriental décor. Everything was either red, orange, or printed in some stage fashion. He pulled out a chair for me and himself at a little wooden table in the kitchen. "You're lucky my mother isn't home. You would've been kicked out on the streets in a matter of seconds. She hates me letting people in, no matter how young they are. Now tell me, stranger, what takes you here? An abduction you say?" Okay. This kid is definitely not from around here… Maybe Iranian. He sounds Persian… Yup, gotta be Iranian.

"Yes, my father abuses me and he was finally sentenced to jail but he bribed the judge and he stole me away from new family and tried to hurt me again. Now please, answer my question. I need to get back to my sister! Please!" I just about lost it right then and there. I didn't even stop to think about what she might be doing right now. Calling the police? Crying herself into a coma? Sleeping? It's late. She should be sleeping. Yes. She's probably sleeping. "Du staem…" Yes. Definitely Iranian. "You are in Newark, New Jersey…", "NEWARK?! No! I'm supposed to be at my house on Spruce Avenue! Down by Cape May! Oh my god!" Then I had an idea. This kid was at least 16 right? "I know! Could you drive me home? Please! My sister is home alone! Our dad just died a month ago! Please!" Gosh, this kid was absolutely emotionless. He just sat there with these glazed over eyes and a straight face. He had a moustache made him look wiser so I (quite ironically) put my faith into the fact that he at least looked wise and smart, and hoped that actually was intelligent. He took an extremely unnervingly extensive pause while scratching his dark forehead. I was going insane. So I just let it out. "WELL?!" I got so upset on the inside that I was sure I was turning purple, but I had to play nice or else this guy might kick me out to fend for myself… 'Keep it together, Erik. If you can just get this guy to drive you home, you can be with Amy and never leave her side again." I looked at this infuriating man again and he finally gave some sign of a conclusion. "Yes. I will get you there. You said Spruce Avenue did you not?"

And that was how we became 'compadres' of sorts. I learned that his name was Nadir Kahn, 16 years old, has a very small family consisting of a mother and a little sister of 5 years, and her name was Tamira, and he was very optimistic in a whimsical and manly way. We drove in the dingy, old, blue Toyota truck for what seemed like ages until he finally got to my street. I told him where to stop and I immediately leapt out the door and I swear it must have been a miracle that the car door didn't fly clear off its hinges. I was at the front door in a matter of seconds, already bursting through the door before Nadir even got out of the driver's seat. I all but screeched Amy's name across the little house and to no avail. There was nothing but bone-chilling silence left to comfort me. I sprinted to the bedroom upstairs. Dad's room. 'Maybe she's praying to dad again and didn't want to cut it short…' I thought to myself hopefully. I ran up to the light blue hallway and flung the door wide open only to see signs of struggle written all across the walls.

A broken vase in the far right corner. The nightstand was knocked over on its side next to the bed. Amy's shoe on the floor by where she prays at night… I skimmed across the room one last time for any more clues as to where my best friend went or what happened. It was futile. Once I stopped denying it, I dropped to my knees right where Ambrosia would 'talk' to Papa every night. I rested my head down where I always saw her's gently caressed by the sheets during her nightly prayer. God, I loved watching her in such diligent, peaceful state. She always looked so beautiful that way. Well, beautiful for a 7 year-old. But, beautiful nonetheless. Heck, she was beautiful whenever I saw her. Even when she was laughing so hard she snorted. Even when she was furious at some petulant, frivolous little mistake, she always, always, always had this air about her that gave me a strange feeling in my stomach and she would always make me smile. She always made me melt like hot butter. And life surrounding us would go as slow as molasses when talked to me. Or when she talked at all. Even if it was just a glance in my direction, even if we were just little kids, I always had this strange, incomprehensible feeling deep down in my shattered, wounded, shadowed heart. But, I had to face it. She wasn't here. And it was useless to try to find her now, so I just let myself slump up against the side of the bed and let depression take over. Then the silence was finally broken by a very gloomy, awkward Nadir Kahn. I could tell that he knew something wasn't right. But, I guess he just had to ask anyways. "Uh, so… Where's your sister? Is she here?" I looked up at him as if he had just shouted up obscenities to heaven. "NO! OF COURSE SHE'S NOT HERE! I JUST DECIDED TO SIT DOWN AT HER PRAYER SPOT AND SOB MYSELF INTO OBLIVION BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT!" I let a bit of an awkward pause pass between us two until I realized what I said. I realized that I let my darned temper take over at my new friend. "Hey, I'm-I'm sorry, Nadir. I'm sorry I came to your door, I'm sorry I made you drive 3 and ½ hours all the way down here, and I' sorry I just blew up at you. It's just that, my only family, my salvation, was stolen from me yet again." I laughed. But it lacked any small bit of happiness or humor. "I should've seen it coming. Because I know that I, a corpse, a monster, a devil, cannot and will never have permanent happiness. Ever."

And so here I am, seven years later, inwardly moaping as I always do, observing from my only real, true, permanent family. The shadows. Yes, this is where I belong. Observing life in the cold shade of darkness. Although, today might just not be my day. Not that any day was my day to begin with. But, I had no success hiding myself in my shroud of shadowy invisibility. No, because I was getting more and more attention by the minute. Yes, the mask is a bit of a strange sight to see, and I sport attire that looks like it came out of some European history book, but, what's wrong with a guy who wants to look neat? To look like a clean cut? Plus, it's the only part of my appearance that I can control. What I lack in facial beauty, I make up for in clothing. Plus that's just how I can express myself without just coming out and having to scream it to the world on a stage. I see two girls whispering to each other after the crowd had thinned to a group of about 6 people in the 7 foot wide hall. I could hear the two girls whispering about a person. With my impeccable sight and my hearing that's is sharp as knives, I might as well be talking with them. They keep looking my way. Now that I can see them, one girl has nice olive toned skin, with hair so light blonde, you could almost say she was a tow-head. But her hair was as thick as my science book. I could tell that she crimped her hair. She had full, pink, glossy lips, and gleaming, white teeth kept straight by purple, teal, and black colored braces. She had bright eyes that were each slightly different in color. They were both mainly like a hazel-y grey, but if you looked really close,(or had 20/20 eyesight 'on steroids' like me), you could make out little glints of blue in the left eye. But on the other, it was like a forest. The right eye had deep brown, the thick, wise oak, some dark blue, that of a cool stream, and a bit more of a green complexion, the beautiful canopy. They were amazing. But, I was still annoyed with her and her friend talking about me and sending scared, nervous, embarrassed looks over their shoulders. It was slightly offending. But her friend appalled me. She was literally staring at me square in the eyes as she blurted out some snide remark to her seemingly finicky converser. She literally looked like one of those ludicrous punk rock stars in all those stupid girly teen magazines that I see lying around in the waiting rooms of dentists and hospitals. Ugh. I don't even want to think about the hospital. Not after my last trip to that sickly place. Not after Papa…

So anyways, I got up the nerve to go over and bust these two girls for talking about me like they were. So I went waltzing over in my usually purposeful grace, and called them out on their rudeness. "Hello, were you talking about me? You know, it's very rude to whisper in public, especially when the person you're whispering about can hear everything you're saying… Hello?" The nervous one gave me this dazed look and I had to snap her out of her day dream. When she finally came back to earth she randomly blurted out, "Sorry, but is your name, by any chance, Erik?" Oh my god. This is creepy. Even for me. How the heck did she know my name? "Yes… How did you-" I was abruptly cut off by this apparently not-so nervous girl giving me a bear hug. 'Who does this girl think she is that she can hug me?' I wonder to myself. I push her off of me, but instead of a scared little cowering girl I expected, I am met with an offended, innocent, confused look in the eyes. Where have I seen those eyes before? "Who are you?" I was sure that my voice resembled that of a dog, but that's what I wanted. I wanted answers, too.

She still keeps her bewildered stare locked with my stern and questioning glare, and said, "Don't you remember me, Erik? I'm Ambrosia Pryde!" She somehow gained some ounce of confidence toward the end of her statement. I'm totally freaked out now. In a good way, but still. It's scary seeing your best friend and half sister from your childhood, a blast from the past, in front of you all matured and… womanly, I guess. Yes. She was definitely a young woman now. Her hips now obtained a slight curve, her legs were longer, her face was more matured, but still had a childish glint still left in her essence and eyes. She was now wearing make-up and she had longer, stronger arms. Only in a girly way. She had a very slight figure and still had that huge smile that I loved so much… I swear I'm not a pervert, but I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't so… flat. You know. That way. She is even more beautiful now that she's right here in front of me. If that's possible. But I was still in a state of shock. "What?" I felt my disbelief slip into my voice as I confirmed my suspicions. "Yeah. It's me. Amy. Amps? Don't you remember? I was the girl from the beach in 2006. I saved you from your bastard father!" I could sense that she was getting nervous and had a chance of suddenly breaking into tears if I didn't say something. "Oh my god… Amps! Is that really you?!" She blushed such a deep crimson that you could compare her to a rose. It was her! I remember it like it was yesterday that I caught her in the garage cleaning up the gardening tools, pouring her heart and soul into the lyrics of her favorite song…

"Amazing grace,

How sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now I'm found,

Was blind, but now, I see…"

And out of all the other times I'd seen and admired her, this was my very favorite. Seeing her sing that song with such finesse and volume and heart, was my new heaven. My new sanctuary was in her celestial voice. And remembering this, I pulled her into a giant hug. The first hug I've ever given to anybody. I was glad it went to her. But then realization hit me like a blow to the ribs. She probably just recognized me and wanted to go off with the rest of her business like noting ever happened. I loved the feeling of her in my arms, so tight. It just took me to another world above heaven. Above my hell-ish life. But it was short lived as I discovered this likely possibility. I took a quick pace back and held my arms in front of me like they had caused her pain. Like they were the reason for sorrow in my pitiful life. She obviously noticed this. "What? I can't have a hug from my best friend without him being scared of me?" She gave a little laugh and playfully punched me in the arm. I ground out in a sheepishly saddened voice, "You probably don't want me around anymore. That was so long ago. Surely you'd turn me down since moving on from our childhood. Wouldn't you?" I snuck a little peek at her reaction and she I could see the innocence and hurt swimming in her eyes. She had her arms out like she was getting ready to touch me but they were suspended where they were. Like she had frozen in time. "Of course I wouldn't turn you down! Are you crazy?! (Yes, just maybe) I've been looking for you for years! You're my best friend, and you always will be… No matter what…" she looked for me? Oh my god… If it's possible, I just fell even further for her. I loved her even more than humanly possible. Then I leant back against the wall as she finished off her words of eternal friendship.

I was so just blown away that I had to gain support from the wall. I did it in a way that didn't make the reason too obvious though. But I was kind of disappointed on the inside. Just friends? I would forever be locked in the friend zone? Well, I'm lucky to be this far. So I'll take what I can get. Then I was pulled from my position on the wall by my lower back, and was pulled into a gentle, loving embrace. Unfortunately it was loving in a platonic sense, but still, at least we're friends. Unless… No, no, no… 'Don't get your hopes up, beast' said the little voice in my head. 'Shut up, I can dream' I retorted. And I finally let my scared, hovering hands take a position on her small frame. One hand on the small of her back, the other on the back of her head. Which was comfortably positioned deep in my firm chest. This felt right. No guilt, no sorrow, no fear, just me and Ambrosia. Just me and my love. 'Oh boy. Now you went and done it, Erik. You let your feelings go to your head. You're in trouble now, demon. You don't deserve her! You-' I cut the voice off, 'Shut up. There are always hopes and dreams… hopes and dreams.' I had to ask, "You-you really mean it?" I was surprised I wasn't hyperventilating. This had to be some cruel dream and when I wake up I'll be back at Nadir's house (for he has been my caretaker since I was a boy) sweating a river in my bed sheets. "Of course I do. That wouldn't change even if the world came to an end. No way am I ever going to let you go. Ever." Oh my god. This must be some kind of sweet torture. I was on the verge of tears, but the wall I built around my emotions wouldn't let them fall. But I knew they were there. My heart was racing one million miles an hour and I couldn't hit the brakes. I was definitely falling hard for my best friend. No doubt about it, anymore.

I think she was playing some game to see how fast my heart could beat because when she locked eyes with me, she bounced up on her toes (because I am very tall) and kissed my cheek… I need a Paramedic. Because my heart was beating so fast that it was rumbling. It didn't have a rhythm anymore. It was like a boiling kettle. My heart was going so fast that it sounded like a racecar engine. Why didn't I turn my head in time to kiss her… Oh no. I'm falling clear through the floor for this girl. "Now, best friend, I'd hate to delay you in getting to your next class so I'm gonna have to let you go so you don't get in extreme trouble." She kept giving me this look that made me feel… I don't know, how do normal guys feel when a girl's giving them the 'dreamy goo-goo eyes' look? Well, however that feels like, is what is taking my entire body by storm. I was numb. Everything felt so much more wonderful. I almost forgot why I wear this mask. The mask covers the left half of my face mangled and demonic face, and shadows my right eye so it looks even more cat-like. I, for some reason was always believed to be some part feline. I walk in silent strides, and with grace. I usually have a sharp tongue, and I do everything with a certain amount of finesse and… majesty, I guess. My eyes glow in the dark for crying out loud! But, these cat eyes were tearing up once she gave my hand a final squeeze and said, "See you at lunch, Erik! Have a good class!" And then, whoa. She winked at me.

Then the most dreaded part. She left. Okay so, she hugged me 3 times, she kissed me, she was constantly holding my hands, and she winked at me with that dreamy look. This must be either the highest point in heaven, or the most painful torture in hell. What if she felt the same way I did? 'Yeah right, corpse.', 'Shut up.' I hoped so hard that she felt the same way. If she did then she might as well have just come up to me and sung it out for the whole world because she made it explicitly obvious. Either that or she just felt bad and missed her 'best friend'…*gulp* forever… So close yet so far. Yes, this must be hell. But that little rose from my childhood was still there. Buried in my heart. It was growing in record time at this point. I raised a reluctant hand up to where her lips met my skin. Scared that these devil's hands could wipe away the glorious feeling. And so I stood there like a statue for what seemed like ages until I finally remembered where I was. School. Gotta get to class. And so I raced off to class. A ghost in the dark. 'I am in trouble now. Big time.'

A/N: And so that's chapter two! What did you think about the flashback? How he met Nadir? His POV in general? How did I do? Lolz. Please review and tell me what you thought! ;) It would make the happiest person alive! :) Until next time!

-your humble servant,

TNP