Thursday, another T day.
Tensai he'd be, for a short time, carving into his face not Asian symbols, but roses, sliced skin with thorns.
T was also for terror, a sweaty nightmare of a Sesame Street letter.
The Worst Thing, the horror he relived, remembered, mentally ran from each hour,each day.
Wedding.
Not HIS,not that which should be, not him rightfully becoming a Barrett, no,that he'd been robbed of.
Nasty zombie hunter thief.
Disgusting and disgraceful, his place stolen by a terrible nuisance dog lover.
Lips curled back,showing the envy, eyes dark as the fury that raged inside.
Derrick punctured his lips with the last thorn, no grin appeared.
Wedding.
He loathed it.
He'd spied on them, himself and Punk, hidden away, now reliving the agony,torment, each smile,every kiss, the dance of one nearly joined couple.
The ring exchange and vows.
Derrick spat a curse or two, driving another thorn in,stake in his broken heart.
Vulgar words didn't help the pain.
Physical pain put upon his own body didn't either.
The physical pain of others would.
Another thorn.
A brief gentle smile, worn with the accessory of mad eyes.