Chapter 11 – Trigger
Maddie Fenton wiped off her tears. "He's back?" she knew she hated crying. She knew that tears only made her mascara flow and trail down the flesh of her face. She knew that it left those black lines.
She felt like she'd burn.
Before Jack took the tip of her face and kissed her forehead, and she stopped shivering and shaking and crying before she grabbed his hand and squeezed it before she felt her lungs lose all the oxygen.
She then took another gulp of oxygen.
He nodded his head. And he knew that…
"Everybody lies."
And he lied because it was nice.
And he wanted to be nice.
Allowing blood to flow and break down the sticky hot liquid of his son's flesh was not nice. It was malice.
Danny Fenton thought that he sparkled.
He looked like he sparkled on the outside. Smiling brightly, hair twisting and twirling into a golden shine down the sunlight and the surfaces of his sapphire blue eyes were flashing into a colorful mess.
His eyes sparkled. His hair sparkled. His face sparkled.
He sparkled.
But now, he had bruises and cuts all over his flesh. And he felt like the hot red liquid running down his flesh only made him sparkle even more.
He didn't want to sparkle.
On the inside and out.
He wanted to seem destroyed and damaged.
Because he felt that way.
But no one could tell.
All they could tell was that sparkles rushed down his veins.
Maybe he did deserve feeling this way.
Maybe…
He remembered Sam and Tucker's deaths.
He remembered himself thinking of them in the playground, running and playing and thinking they deserved it. That they deserved being children without these problems, with nothing but toys and dolls and mothers and fathers looking at them and smiling and laughing when they made pictures and hugging them when they got simple A's or B's on tests.
He remembered watching them get buried and asking himself why did God bring them on the Earth if he knew that he was going to take them and rip them away from him in that minute?
Maybe that was how unfairness tasted like, bitter. And fair tasted sweet. And Tucker and Sam were both.
Death was bitter but life was sweet. Even if only for a moment.
Danny wanted to die.
It felt right because they were both dead and they both suffered. He remembered those warning signs, when Sam came with bleach blonde hair and she looked like—like a Gothic Angel but at the same time, he wanted to hurt her and he wanted to hug her.
He was confused.
All he knew was that she cried and sobbed in his best friend's lap before she died. And all he knew was that he didn't do anything. All he did was watch her as she came into school with smoky brown eyes, contact lens hiding away her real eyes and she looked fake.
She was fake.
He wanted to die like her.
Fake.
Jack thought of Natalie.
Tucker's brother, Ryan, had been so protective over her. Every tear equaled a comfort, every sob meant watching 'Tom and Jerry', every little look of depression meant a hug, Ryan wasn't even old enough to be a father but he acted as one.
Maybe that was enough.
Maybe that was more than enough.
He walked towards his son's room and Danny was holding onto the pillow. He could almost read Danny's eyes, that he lived through lies, and that turned into pretending.
Pretend hate.
"Danny?" he called his son's name.
"Why do this to me again?" he motioned to the bruises and cuts, the blood poured and slipped and…
Glitter.
It seemed like his veins were made out of glitter as the hot liquid rushed from his heart, lungs, brain and down to the damaged parts.
This was all made of damages.
"You wouldn't listen to me!" a shout rushed down the room.
"Doesn't mean that you should hate me," and he didn't know why Jack looked at him in a different way. "Doesn't mean that you should kill me…"
Want to pull the trigger?
Jack's heart broke.
"W-what?" he stuttered. "Why are you saying that?"
Danny took a gulp of air, and he looked away. And Jack can only hear, see, hate, love, destroy, feel, fear and get suffocated in was Danny's hot liquid blood. "You know that you could've killed me," but Danny wanted it.
He just wanted Jack to break and destroy.
Just like he broke and destroyed him.
He didn't care that Jack was his father. And he didn't want to anymore. He just wouldn't stop until all the pieces of his heart were shattered and broken up in pieces in front of him.
And he'd just laugh.
And he'd never fix those pieces.
Do you really want to pull the trigger?
I'm already dead.
Well, do you like it? I know it's a little short but I want to update. Even if it's a second or two. Review?
;) Gab