Hey things get interesting in this chapter. blushu/
Sorry for poorly written things and silly mistakes!
I think I left out that this is maybe dramatic depending on your personal preferences on what dramatic is?... There's no character deaths because I'd drown in tears before I could finish writing a character death so you're safe there. But I will warn that their is self harm (minor) and child abuse.( not in detail, in fact, there's no actual physical abuse inflicted on anyone by someone else because I don't have it in my little heart to do that.)
Enjoy?
You take a deep breath and open the front door shakily, more due to fear than coldness. When the door is fully opened, you find your dad passed out on the couch, which is odd. Let it be known that your dad drinks a lot every night after work, but not usually enough to pass out unless it's Friday or the weekend. You let out a sigh of relief and shut the door quietly, and head up the stairs to your room, careful not to wake your dad. You make it half-way up the stairs when the voice of you dad rattles your bones.
"What the fuck are you doing here so fucking late?" You stop dead in your tracks and turn to look at your dad who is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Oh boy. Here goes a conversation you'v been dying to avoid.
"I was finishing work at school. . . Tutoring." You're focusing hard on your voice so that it doesn't shake.
"Well you have a fucking phone don't you? You could have called." You hear the anger rise is his voice and you're certain he's had one too many beers. You hide the fear in your voice. "There's no signal at school. . . Th-the schools in a dead spot. . .Besides, you never answer." You recall a time when you desperately needed him to pick you up from school. It was pouring and your vision could barely perceive a mere ten feet away due to the heavy downfall. Of course, he didn't answer. And you couldn't call Sollux because he didn't have a car at the time and you weren't (still aren't) lucky enough to mooch off of friends at school for rides. You trudged through the harsh weather all the way, taking you an extra thirty minutes to get home. You came home to find that he was too occupied with beer to answer his phone. He scolded you for being late and wet and you spent most of that day and night on your front porch, cold and shivering. You were sick for about two weeks with a fever, stuffy nose, coughing, and all that good stuff.
"You're a real smart ass. You just have an answer for everything don't you?" You cringe just barely at how he raises his voice suddenly and go mute. He gets angrier with your silence. "Give me your fucking phone." You shoot him a 'fuck you' look and you know that wasn't a good idea. What your about to do is ten times worse. "Yeah it's MY phone, I pay for it and I bought it." He glares at you and stomps his way up the stairs and you try to turn and run but he grabs you by your hair and swings you against the wall. You can smell alcohol in his breath as he yells at you. You shut your eyes closed as tight as possible, as if they'll maybe block the venom that spews past your own father's lips. Things along the lines of, 'you prick, mistake, you're the reason she's dead, you killed her, you ruined our lives.' When he's done yelling, he yanks your head up, and pushes you, knocking you off balance so your foot slips off the ledge of the stair it was on, resulting in you losing your balance and slipping. You grip the railing before you can tumble down, but you do stab your thigh on the corner of a stair ledge and your head hits another corner. No blood though. He walks to the couch and goes back to being a knocked out drunk. You choke back any pain inflicted sounds and shortly get up. This is definitely not the worst pain you've felt. Your thigh and ankle hurt but you manage your way up the stairs and to your room.
You get into your room, gently close the door and lock it. The pain in your ankle has you wasting no time in sitting on your bed to examine the damage. You slip off your shoe and sock with care. There's light bruising beneath you're ankle and about a layer of torn skin, not enough to make you bleed nevertheless. Time to inspect your head, which you're noticing, hurts an awful lot more than your ankle. You stand to walk over to the mirror at your dresser, but wince at the resulted sharp aching from your ankle. You alternate to using the camera on your phone instead. You hold up your phone and point it in the direction of the ache while pushing back your bangs and the mark waiting underneath is almost enough to make you shudder. It's a nasty bruise, and you wince just staring at it. It's a foul shade of purple and the color lessens as the bruise spreads. You can see it swelling and you have no idea how it's not bursting out blood. You ghost your finger gently over it and that alone makes it tingle. Some idiotic part of you tell you to poke it, so who pokes it? You do. You cringe and quickly regret the action.
You let your bangs fall over the mark, conveniently concealing it and put your phone back into your pocket. Nausea takes over you from looking at it so you avert your vision, acknowledging and disregarding the urge to vomit. It's like something out of one of the sick slasher movies Sollux makes you watch, except maybe a lot less brutal.
You choke back some anger, but it quickly swells up into tears. You can't stand him. He wouldn't have even noticed you were gone if you were quiet enough. You've been gone for days before and he hadn't noticed. The only reason he still has you is because if he kicks you out, child services will be on his ass and he'll be taken to jail. And the only reason you haven't ratted him out is because there's no family to take you and he knows it. And you don't want to burden one of two of you're only friends.
But your dad wasn't always like this. Your mother used to be able to handle him and keep him from alcohol. But the moment he heard that she'd died, he'd began drinking. Of course he did. Addiction runs strong in your family so you can't set foot near drugs or alcohol. Not that you would; although it makes it difficult when one of your only friends is immensely addicted. Granted, it's not the worst drug. Just weed, it could be worse.
Nothing of yours was given to you by your dad since your mom died. You bought all of it with the money you earned with your job. Your old job that is, which was at Starbucks. You got fired. . . You snapped at a costumer, who happened to be some as from your school, for laughing at you. You also may or may not have poured coffee on him…
Tears stroll down your cheeks. You sit up on your bed and open the nightstand drawer next to you. You reach all the way in the back and pull out a small black box. You open it and there's a picture of you and your mom, a necklace she gave you, the cancer sign on it with a red dot in between in the center. You smile a little more due to upsetting, beautiful memories than anything else.
Your mom was so beautiful. She had long red hair that went down to her low back and curled angelically at the tips. She was pale like you. Her eyes where a deep emerald and people swore she was all hair dye, Lipo, enhancements and contacts. You knew that wasn't the case. You knew she was just naturally perfect. You admired her so much and still do. She was just as beautiful inside as she was out, like the outside was just the reflection of the inside.
You lift up the picture and there are three razors. You hesitate for a moment. This isn't so terrible a thing to do right? Some people escape life by committing much worse things, so you could be performing much worse methods. You end up rolling up the sleeves of your sweater. Your wrists are covered in faded cuts. You try not to cut too often and in truth, it's been a while. You know it's wrong and it shouldn't help your situation.
You pick up a razor a put it to your wrist. You breathe in deep and slowly move your arm toward you, making a straight line, cutting just deep enough to feel a sting and watch little droplets of blood pool behind the razor before you let your eyes clench shut. You hiss and lean forward, pulling the razor from your wrist. You hold it to your wrist again and repeat the act. This is wrong and it's even worse to be doing since Sollux came around.
Sollux makes you feel different, like a human. Gamzee makes you feel like that too, but Sollux- he makes you feel other things too, but you try not to contemplate those feelings too much because you start to get this odd feeling, like a churning in your stomach and then you're heart rate hastens. Would it be cliché to say that he makes you feel alive? Of course it would. Sollux just has a way of making you feel different.
The aching in your wrist is caused entirely by guilt now because you know that both Sollux and Gamzee would be aggrieved by this habit. You know you can tell them and you know they'll listen and you would feel better afterward. But then you'd be bothered at the fact that you're burdening them and no matter how many times they tell you otherwise, you won't believe them. You've stopped cutting. You don't think you want to continue either because you know it won't suffice. So what do you do now?
You're startled by an unforeseen ring and vibration in your back pocket; your phone. You put the razor down and receive a few tissues from you're nightstand. You press them against your wrist and FUCK it hurts so much more than it normally does, probably because you've refrained from doing this in such a long time.
You adjust your position, kicking off your other shoe and sock and sit up in your bed. You grab your phone from your back pocket and open your inbox. There are messages from none other than Gamzee who seems to only ever text you at the worst of times.
6:58: wHaT's MuThErFuCkInG uP bEsT FrIeNd? YoU DiDn'T aLl Up AnD mOtHeRfUcKiNg TeXt Me So I tHoUgHt SoMeThInG wAs AlL uP aNd MoThErFuCkInG wRoNg
7:00: NO. I'M FINE.
7:00: aRe YoU lYiNg?
7:01: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT I'M LYING.
7:01: wElL fIrSt, YoU DiDn't AlL uP aNd AsK Me HoW hIgH I wAs, AnD tHeN yoU dIdN't alL Up AnD mOtHeR fUcKiNg CuRsE aT mE fIrSt tHiNg, AnD i JuSt AlL Up AnD gOt ThIs mOtHeRfUcKiNg FeElInG tHAt sOmEtHiNg Is WrOnG.
7:04: DISPOSE OF THAT GUT FEELING IMMIDATELY. IT'S MALFUNCTIONING.
7:04: kArKaT I kNoW YoUr LyInG. TeLl mE Or I wIlL aLl Up AnD nOt sToP bUgGiNg yOu tIlL YoU dO
7:05: FINE OK LOOK. IT'S NOTHING. I'M ALIVE. I JUST GOT IN AN ARGUMENT WITH MY DAD. THAT'S ALL.
7:06: dId ThE mOtHeRfUcKeR ToUcH yOu?
7:07: IT DOESN'T MATTER. I'M ALIVE AND BREATHING.
7:07: It's a yes or no question Karkat.
7:08: DON'T GET ALL FORMAL AND SERIOUS WITH ME GAMZEE. I'M FINE.
7:08: Answer me yes or no Karkat.
7:10: YES… HE DID… BUT IT'S OKAY. I PROMICE I'M FINE.
7:10: Tell me what he did.
7:11: I GOT SNAPPY THAT'S ALL. I GOT SNAPPY SO HE JUST SAID WHAT I NEEDED TO HEAR.
7:11: Don't you motherfucking dare blame yourself. Did he hurt you?
7:13: NOT REALLY, HE JUST PUSHED ME A LITTLE AND I LOST MY BALANCE AND FELL A LITTLE ON THE STAIRS. BUT THAT WAS MY FAULT. I'M FUCKING CLUMSY AS HELL SO I STUMBLED.
7:14: I know there's more to that motherfucking story. Are you hurting yourself again?
How does he even know these things?
7:20: Karkat don't you all up and motherfucking ignore me.
7:20: GAMZEE PLEASE…
7:22: Just promise me you'll all up and talk to someone about what you're going through before you motherfucking do it. You never know what miracles just talking to people can do. As for what's going on with your dad, just stay away from him. I'm motherfucking sick of him bashing my best friend for everything.
7:23: THEN PROMISE ME YOU'LL LAY OFF THE POT.
7:23: I'Ll aLl Up AnD TrY FoR YoU BeSt FrIeNd, If yOu MoThEr FuCkIn PrOmIsE mE yOu'Ll Do As I sAy.
7:24: OKAY FINE, DEAL. WELL, I HAVE TO TEXT SOLLUX SO I'LL TALK TO YOU LATER.
7:25: bYe BeSt FrIeNd
7:20: you never texted me kk.
A smile sneaks onto your face.
7:26: EXCUSE ME FOR NOT REVOLVING A FEW MOMENTS OF MY PRCIOUS LIFE TO TALK TO YOU.
7:26: not okay kk. ii'm heartbroken
7:27: GOOD.
7:27: you're 2o 2weet kk
7:27: FUCK YOU.
7:28: you wii2h
That didn't make you blush. Nope. Not at all.
7:29: YOU ARE SO FUCKING CLEVER. I WILL HONOR YOU WITH BEING ABLE TO SPEND TOMORROW WITH ME AND ALLOW YOU TO THROW YOUR CLEVER, WITTY COMMENTS AT ME. THEN WE CAN ALSO CHILL FOR THE WEEKEND. I MEAN IF YOU DON'T HAVE PLANS.
7:29: ye2.
7:29: YES AS IN…?
7:30: ii'm bu22y.
7:31: OH...
7:32: ii'm kiidiing kk. ye2 we can hang out
7:33: ii'll be at work though, 2o can you waiit untiil 5?
7:33: YOU'RE A DICK AND YEAH SURE, I'LL JUST WAIT AT SCHOOL.
7:34: you 2ure you want two waiit 2o long? ii can piick you up at your hou2e
7:35: NO. ALTERNIA HIGH. I HAVE SOME AFTER SCHOOL TUTORING.
You feel terrible for lying but, the last thing you want is to stay home. . .
7:36: that'2 2 extra hour2 of work and 2tudyiing but ii gue22. ii don't unde2tand why though you have 2traiight a'2
7:37: YEAH WELL, I WANT TO GET EXCEPTED INTO A GOOD COLLEGE. NOT ALL OF US HAVE ONLINE SCHOOLING AND THE WORLD GREATEST SEARCH ENGINE AT OUR FINGERTIPS AT ALL TIMES. BUT YOU'LL BE THERE AROUND 5:30 OR SOMETHING?
7:38: iif ii could u2e a 2earch engiine ii would but they have a way of modiitoriing iit. but anyway2 ye2
7:39: GASP. THERE ARE THINGS THAT YOU CAN'T HACK YOUR WAY OUT OF. AND OK COOL, SEE YOU THEN
7:40: ii can iif ii want but iit'2 not nece22ary 2iince ii already under2stand the material. And okay kk
7:40: SURE CAPTOR. I BET YOU CHEAT YOUR WAY AROUND THE SYSTEM. ANYWAYS… WHAT'S UP?
7:41: 2o you aren't denyiing my ama2ing hackiing 2kiils? and the roof
7:42: WOW SOLLUX. YOU ARE JUST SO WITTY AND CLEVER. YOU ARE THE FUCKING KING OF CLEVER.
7:42: you're the kiing of loud and obnoxiou2.
7:43: FUCK YOU
7:43: DON'T YOU DARE SAY YOU WISH!
7:44: eheheh… you wii2h.
7:45: CAPTOR
7:45: techniicaly ii diidn't 2ay iit
7:46: YOU ARE REDICULOUS.
You feel a smile tug its way across your face as the two of you ramble. Hours go by and before you know it, Sollux has managed to make you sleep, even without being physically present.
Be the one Karkat was texting.
:o)
No not you, the other one.
You are Sollux Captor and you are currently sitting on your bed with Karkat Vantas making out. He has stomach arching against you and his arms thrown around your neck. What started off as innocent kiss was now an intense war of the lips. Hands tangled in hair, skin touching, hearts racing, sloppy kissing noises, and lip biting. You have his face cupped in your hands and tilt his head for easier access as you slide your tongue across his lips. He gives you access immediately, hands tangled in your hair and pushing you deeper into the kiss.
Your back is against your bed and his legs are parted on either side of your thighs. You feel like this kiss will last forever just like this. But he quickly surprises you with light grinding of his hips against yours. You move a hand onto his thigh and move it with his now grinding hips. Your pants are growing unbelievably tight and you can feel that the same applies for him.
You pull him down and grind your hips thoroughly with his, eliciting him to moan into your mouth which is about all you can take when you abruptly switch positions, pinning him on the mattress below you. He looks so vulnerable beneath you, flushed face, panting, his eyes filled with lust. You smirk and lean down to run your tongue along the side of his neck and he shivers and groans. He breathes deeply at the feeling of your tongue tasting his neck.
You smirk mischievously down at him, lean down and kiss the crook of his neck gently and trail kisses up his neck until you reach his ear and nibble at the tip. He wraps his arms around your neck and moans quietly. You run your hands up his shirt and then slowly down his stomach, ghosting their way back up to his chest. His own hands are imitating yours, but going in a different direction. He cups both his hands over the bulge of your pants. You bring your lips down to his neck and bite down, his head falls back and he keens out your name, but the sound is distorted and when your eyes swing back open, you find yourself staring up at the roof. You're alone in your bed and the replacement of Karkat is the hand in your pants.
"Fuck!" You hiss out. Another dream-tease about your best friend. How sick are you? You swing off your covers and make your way to the restroom.
Wake up Karkat.
You've been here before. It's your home- your old home that is. There's your mom, your dad, and you. You're all sitting on the couch watching a movie. You're all smiling and laughing too, even your dad. Sometimes you forget that it was like this at some point. You forgot that your dad used to smile like that. Hell, you forgot he was capable of smiling in general.
Suddenly you're on the couch. You look to see I your mom and dad are still there but they've both disappeared. The T.V. makes a bizarre buzzing sound and you look over at it. It's a movie. One you've seen, but the audio is weird or, at least it would be if the audio wasn't just continuous beeping. You squint at it and try to focus when two arms snake around your chest from behind, making you jerk. The voice that says your name after though, it's soothing, its… "Sollux?" You turn to face him but the moment you do you wake up.
You're phone alarm is buzzing and you squirm in your bed and turn it off. That was an odd dream. No, that was really weird. Oh well, time for hell *cough cough* you mean school.
You really consider not going to school but you have too much work from your classes, especially since you were bumped up a grade, putting you and Sollux on the same grade level (Senior). Although the classes are generally fairly simple still. Besides, you have a date *cough cough* you mean, plans to hang out with a friend and frankly, your pickup place is there. You sigh and drag yourself out of bed, take off your dirty clothes that you forgot to take off the night prior. You take a look at your text messages. There's a few from Gamzee, him congratulating you on your plans with Sollux for god only knows why. Then there are two from Sollux.
12:08: I'M FUCKING TIRED.
12:08: then go two 2leep
12:18: good niight kk, 2ee you twomorrow: Looks like you pass out before you could respond.
You really haven't the slightest clue as to what you will equip today. You know it's going to be hot and humid out, so something short sleeved would be nice, although you'll be damned if you wear anything other than one of your turtleneck sweaters. Or at least not right now. Your scars are still all too visible and you really don't need anyone calling them out. That would be embarrassing and just downright awkward. Sollux has already caught a glimpse of them and asked you about it. You felt so bad making him worry. The only thing you could do was tell him you hadn't touched a razor in months (This was true.)
You slip on a sweater; nothing underneath because you know you'll die of heat later otherwise. You pull on a pair of faded grey jeans and your black vans, comb your messy white hair, grab your backpack before shoving some clothing into it, and quietly head to the door.
I hope my warnings didn't beat around the bush too much... My apologies if they did ^^;
By the way, I'm also sorry for taking a while to post the rest of the story. I've just been scrutinizing it very carefully to try and make sure there's no ridiculous mistakes. I Probably didn't scrutinize close enough though... Next chapter will be up at soon as I'm done looking over it too! I'll get it in asap! Again, sorry for the wait!
Ok now, I'm going to stop ranting!