Sea
Chapter One.
By: Sofie MB.
To understand the pain of a soul, you can either try going through the same things that soul went through, or you can look into their eyes and actually look for the pain they've felt. Somewhere, it will be lying, waiting to be discovered.
If you actually looked into the blonde's eyes, you could see the darkness and sadness they hid in within. If you tried looking a little closer, he would look away, afraid you'd figure his pain. It wasn't an everyday thing for you to find out your everyday hero was going through a deep depression not even he could figure out. Cloud had once considered going with a professional, but it didn't seem to work for him, which made him sink even deeper into it.
It was the sweet feeling of depression what kept him from going out to the light. It was the pain and fear of failing what pulled him back as his hand reached out to reality. The feeling of sadness, solitude and pain he felt even in the brightest of days. He was indeed tired of feeling worthless, of lying on the floor hoping that someone will take him.
He felt like he had no choice sometimes; like it was his fate. He had promised himself to not do it far more than a couple of times, but, at the moment in which he did it, that promise never came.
He was a grown-up already –twenty-five years old-; there was no reason for him to not be able to make his own decisions, and so he did. He decided to stop trying to stop. He decided to stop hiding what he did from himself; to stop lying to his own mind.
Maybe life was just meant to be that way, you know? Maybe it just handed random people sharp edges so they could express their feelings, or maybe it didn't. He was such a lonely soul to the eyes of so many. God! Was he an idiot? Was he an ungrateful bastard? How could he be so ungrateful? He had everything. People that loved him, enough money, food, clothing; he had everything. Why did he still feel so lonely and empty? It wasn't right!
As those thoughts still lingered in his head, he played around with the small razor he carried around. His eyes weren't really paying attention to the sharp reflecting device; they were lost in the distance. He frowned as unhealthy thoughts began to fill his mind once again. It was almost as if there was another voice in his head that kept telling him how unworthy he was. The type of voice that reminds you what you do wrong.
He closed his eyes and let his head fall back to rest on the cold wall. Those pale eye lids once again slid open. Cloud's eyes were like a sea of problems –a beautiful sea-. They seemed so deep, so full of something. They looked up; a pained look lingering on the frowning beauty.
It wasn't right; for him to be so weak after all he had done. He couldn't, and he shouldn't. Still, he did.
His fingers were no longer toying with the small razor. Blue eyes lowered themselves to settle down on it. He held it tightly in between his fingers as he positioned it on his fore arm. It was almost an euphoric moment the one that arrived to him as he made a small, but deep cut.
He moaned. A frown stayed loyal and remained printed on his face through it all.
"Ah…" He made another cut right under that one, longer this time, but more superficial this time. He remembered well hearing the "It's down the road, not across the street" saying more than once, and he also remembered hearing it only said by stupid teens while bothering other kids. He thought it was bullshit.
But his head was way too dark at the moment to think about it. He thought about those kids that were bullied, and thought back at his childhood. He had been useless, an idiot at times, nothing but dirt. Those were his thoughts as he managed to dry a few tears that threatened to fall and walk towards his black motorcycle while his right hand pressed itself hard on top of the fresh cuts on the left hand which found itself busy putting the razor away.
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One would think that when someone did something like what the blond had just gone through they would be having dark thoughts, but Cloud could prove them wrong. He had, more than once, found himself cutting while he felt the happiest in that deep depression he found himself residing in.
He could walk and walk down the hallway he called life, and, still, he couldn't reach the end.
Vincent realized that. He could see something wrong in the blonde's eyes; he could see nothing. It wasn't right, for someone to hold such emptiness and what seemed to be guilt in their eyes.
After the small incident with the brunette boy, he actually found himself looking for scars and sticking around longer than usual. He could not ignore the way the blonde's emotions changed so fast and so easily. How he was so fragile and vulnerable to some things, which would affect him easily.
He stared at him across the table. His red cloak covered him and brought prying eyes to place themselves on top of it.
Truth is, when you are depressed, and you know it, even though you may say you want to get out of that deep pool of darkness, there was always a feeling that kept pressuring you to stay there. Maybe it was the fear to fail and sink deeper, or maybe he had settled down there and didn't want to move.
Vincent didn't want to get too involved, truth was, and he was scared he could screw up somehow. He had made sure Denzel did not share what he had seen with anyone else. He had explained that it truly wouldn't be something Cloud would like. Denzel wasn't stupid enough to not realize it was something incredibly personal.
Vincent wasn't there anymore when Denzel came back from buying several things Tifa had sent him for. He closed the door right behind him. The young boy had grown into a handsome young man. He was almost as tall as Cloud was now and well-built. The brunette placed the bags on the counter as he walked towards Tifa. People were ordering drinks and kept Tifa busy which caused her not notice that Denzel was right by her side.
Denzel glanced at her as he placed everything where it was supposed to be. He let out a sigh as he came out and realized Cloud wasn't there. He knew he probably wasn't there or was in his room. Either way, none of those were good things.
Marlene, the girl that used to stay with them, was no longer there. She had left to travel with Barret. The only ones left there were Tifa, Cloud and Denzel, and now, more often than ever, Vincent.
Tifa yawned as she stretched her arms and turned to look at the clock. It was 11PM already. Costumers seem to finally start leaving and leaving only a couple of drunks. By 12AM –when Tifa closes up-, the bar was empty and she was left to clean. Denzel had been in his room reading and just thinking for probably over six hours –in which he thought about Cloud at least 60% of the time-.
When he realized he hadn't heard Cloud arrive he decided to go downstairs. He then found himself helping Tifa clean. Tifa noticed Denzel kept glancing at the door whenever he had a chance. She sighed, "Don't worry Denzel. He'll be back soon. He likes to be a vampire sometimes." She joked with a reassuring smile. Denzel was looking at her. His face softened as he let out a soft sigh and flashed a fake smile. 'If only she knew…'.
The next morning Denzel's concern only grew as he realized Cloud still hadn't come back. He feared the worst. 'What if… What if he's passed out somewhere? What if… he lost a lot of blood?' His grip on the piece of fabric he was using to clean the windows grew harder as his worry increased.
His heart skipped a beat as he looked outside the window and spotted a black motorcycle getting closer to the bar. He looked down trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. He thought he had never been so scared in his life. It was harder since he couldn't show it.
Cloud's slender hand pushed the door open and walked inside. Tifa gave him a warm hello as she washed some dishes. "Took you long to come back." She smiled sadly. Cloud didn't look up at her. He kept looking down. Tifa gave a soft sigh that Cloud didn't get to hear.
"Come on, sit down. I made some breakfast."
Denzel watched as Cloud gave Tifa a quick glance and then sat down at the bar. He looked away as soon as he saw Cloud glance over his shoulder and look at the brunette. He kept cleaning, trying to act normal; he knew he would notice though.
"Hey, Denzel." The blonde's soft, yet deep, masculine voice greeted. Denzel bit his lip, without turning towards him, and placed the fabric down. "Hi… Cloud."
As hard as he tried to act normal around Cloud, it truly became harder as he began catching the blond scratching his left wrist, upper arm or fore arm. He wasn't sure if it was because he had scars or cuts, or because he was just itchy.
Either way, he didn't think he could just stand there and do nothing for too long.
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"Yes… I understand." Cloud was walking out of his room and could hear the soft voice of his childhood friend ringing through the hallway. He rubbed the excess of sleep from his eyes as he walked downstairs and found himself right behind Tifa. He scratched his head as he yawned and waited for Tifa to be done.
Cloud helped with placing the CLOSED sign on the front door as Tifa rushed in and out of rooms trying to gather everything she would need. She had just been notified that a friend of hers had passed away. She had been a girl who wouldn't eat and eventually died. That was how Tifa decided to put it for the males that lived with her as she, with a sad look on her face, continued packing things into a small bag.
She sighed as she stood at the door. Denzel was standing right in front of her, ready to give her a hug. Cloud was sitting at one of the tables, his arms crossed. "I'll see you in a few days." She smiled, "behave. Will you?"
Denzel smiled as he hugged and kissed her goodbye. Cloud gave her a small wave of the hand.
As soon as Tifa closed the door, Cloud stood up and walk towards the bar once again. He didn't say anything. Denzel sighed and sat down too. The blonde merely glanced at the boy as he stood up and poured himself a drink.
Denzel fidgeted on his seat as he remembered that Cloud only drank when he was troubled, and he had been drinking lately.
Cloud Strife had never been drunk. Not once. He thought that maybe he just had a very strong resistance when it came to alcohol. He liked to drink because it made him feel warm inside, and most of the time he felt cold.
He let the warm liquid go down his throat and then placed his glass down on the bar. He glanced at Denzel who was sitting by his side. Cloud fully turned his body towards Denzel. Unlike what Denzel thought was the reason for the blond to be drinking turned out to not be truth; Cloud found himself in quiet a good mood.
"You look troubled." Cloud pointed out. Denzel's breath hitched as he heard those words. After almost choking on his orange juice, he placed the glass down. The blond looked at the young boy almost suspiciously.
Denzel glanced at his side and then looked down. He actually wanted to talk to him about it. He wanted to let him know he was there to help, and that he wouldn't tell anyone else, but he knew he would most likely panic. Denzel wasn't sure at all as for what the blond could do about it.
"I…" He began. He was dwelling on whether if he should talk to him about it or if he should come up with an excuse. "It's nothing."
Cloud stared at the brunette weirdly as the younger boy stood up and walked outside. He suspected something was wrong, but he didn't really consider the fact that he might know his little obsession slash secret.
Denzel just grabbed a sweater, opened the door and walked outside. He closed the door behind him and began walking down the street, a frown on his face. He gave out another sigh to add to that day as he looked up towards the gray sky, biting his lower lip.
'I wonder what it is like… I mean, if he does it so much than it must feel nice.' He kept wondering what if felt like until he looked up and stopped walking. He stared at the store in front of him shocked. He looked around wondering if it was a dream, prank, or anything of that sort. He gulped and licked his dry lips as he decided to walk in, and answer his questions himself.
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"Thanks for the food Cloud." Denzel muttered as he placed his now empty dishes on the sink. He decided he would clean up later. He took a deep breath as he walked upstairs and locked himself in his room. As soon as the door was locked, he made sure the curtains were closed and carefully took a small bag from under his bed.
It was a small paper bag that held a plastic bag inside. He took the plastic bag and threw the paper one on the floor. Slowly, he pulled out an X-Acto* from the bag and threw the plastic bag towards the opposite side of the room.
He was sitting on the very edge of his bed as he took deep breathes. He slid down until he was on the floor and rolled up his left sleeve. He was determined for a brief moment, as he took the razor and pushed the sharp edge upwards. He licked his lips over and over in a nervous manner.
He pressed the razor on his forearm and closed his eyes tightly as he tried to press it hard enough for it to bleed. 'Wait!', he thought. He had seen Cloud's scars even though he wore gloves and sometimes arm warmers –now long sleeves too since it was cold outside and he could use it as a perfect excuse-.
His pure eyes traveled from his arm to his chest, back to his fingers, towards his knees. He stopped when he spotted his thigh. His knees were right under his chin, as he had pulled them up and placed his arms around them. He lowered them and pushed them away from him. He fidgeted there, unsure if he should do it. He sighed, as he realized it was the only way to figure out what Cloud was going through –what kept him going back for more-.
He placed the razor on the floor, and proceeded to take off his pants. He shivered as he sat on the floor once again. His bare feet waited patiently as the young boy took his socks off. He sighed as he managed to have his legs completely exposed.
'Where should I do it?' He wondered as he rolled up the right end of his blue boxers. 'Ankle, thigh, or both?'
He was thankful Marlene did not barge into his room until after he had placed his jeans around his body and had hidden the razor.
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'Forget it.' It was almost like those voices were pleading him to stop, but he refused to. He kept running into things that somehow told him to stop. He, after walking around looking at his feet –not caring where he was going- ended up looking up right when he was in front of a rehabilitation center.
He ran into a small store where they sold –ironically- both razors and bandages. Right after he passed in front of those two places, he found himself in the place where he always bought new razors and sometimes small daggers –which he used as excuse to be there-.
It was almost like a ritual, to go there each month and buy new equipment. It had been like that for years. Since he always found himself using sharp things in whatever he was working.
Truth was, for him, been there was not easy. It was almost like an urge to throw his body at the different sharp lengths. He had to stay away from there when he was too triggered, since he knew he wouldn't always be able to control himself.
He took in a sharp breath, as he felt his heart tighten and beat faster. His ankle was stinging badly. A soft look of pain graced his features as he felt his ankle start to bleed. Black shoes made their way to the cashier as the young man tried to keep his cool.
Breathing became harder as he made his way back to his motorcycle. He had a feeling that something was wrong.
'What is it?'
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Not all teenagers go to parties, get drunk, have sex and do drugs, but not all teenagers- who don't do it every day- stay their whole life without dancing with drunk people, tasting the flavor of beer, the pleasure of someone else's warmth and enjoying a moment away from reality.
He sat there, away and disconnected from the whole world, letting his fingers travel around the glass that sat patiently in front of him. It was probably over the ten thousand times he bit his lower lip.
Yet another woman grazed the boy with her slender fingers, only to be rejected by the teen. Denzel looked up, almost in hopes to find someone he knew that would take that confusion away.
He explored his surroundings. He could see people his age and older all over the place dancing, smoking, drinking and even having sex. He thought of it as a vile place; a disgusting one that is, but he was aware there was no other place where he could drink and be away from those he knew.
It was the third time in a row he was there –not like Cloud was there to notice anyways-. You have to understand he was going through one of his first big inner battles. Sure, he had –as any other human being living in a place like that and having gone through what the boy had gone through- dealt some rough things before, but never like that.
The worst part had been: he didn't hate it.
He didn't hate the pain he felt, or the fear he felt as he had to clean the blood. He didn't despise the scars that now adorned his thigh. He didn't feel bad, but he did feel alone.
He walked out of there and made his way back to the bar. It was late, and it wasn't a safe place to be out at night. He walked with his hands in his pockets, his left hand touching softly the dagger he kept in his pocket for emergencies. Not too long after that, he arrived.
He stopped, shocked. Cloud's motorcycle was there.
The brunette opened the door as quietly as he could. He took off his shoes and walked looked up the stairs. The light was on. He, once again, bit his lower lip and swiftly made his way upstairs. Once again, he watched quietly through the small opening in the door as the small dagger made its way across the sun deprived arm. Except this time he wasn't scared for what he was watching. He had seen it a few times already. It truly surprised him how the blonde got so caught up he never noticed him. Or maybe he did? It didn't seem like it.
He let a out a sigh again. Denzel was beginning to be like Cloud, and he was aware of it. He was scared he'd get too caught up in it before he could save Cloud. He thought about that as he made a small cut on his thigh once again; he just sat there afterwards, in his locked room.
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*X-Acto is a brand of tools owned by Elmer's Products, Inc. The company manufactures knives, saws, tweezers and many other small scale hand tools used for crafts, hobbies and other applications. In other words, it's the brand of the razor thing.
:P Yeah. Hope you enjoyed? Sorry it took so long, too. : )