Emotions, expressions, they're harder to feel every time. These chains,
self-made, that I've strapped around my wrists. It's as if this protective
bubble that I've placed myself in has now become my prison. What if I've
forgotten? Forgotten how to feel, how to care. How could I have let things
go so terribly wrong? Careless, I can always blame myself, but then I'd
look like I was wallowing in self-pity. Like I was someone who would do
that. Ha, how lowly of an act. I can't regret, less be lost, thrown even
further with my need to be a brick building. I won't ask for help, or even
hint of it. I'm to do this by myself.
Jack, cleaned and smelling normal once again, stepped out of her room, draped in an overly large shirt and boxers. Riddick had deemed her last pair of clothing 'trash' and tossed them down the disposable waste. Well, true they did seem to have a drifting scent that may never go away, yet it was her clothing, the last pair that she still held on to since.. Her thoughts trailed away, recognizing just where her musing was taking her. Again, she found something that would need to be fixed, and chains that would need to be tightened.
Her mental abuse had become subconscious. No longer was she realizing just what was happening, and what she was doing.
"Ah, now see, freshness." Jack held onto the boxers, fearful that they may slip off at any time.
"You can stop now. I really need my own clothing, you and your burly self- fitting clothing really don't fit.."
Slight embarrassment started to show on her face, appearing in a light tinge of pink over her nose. The shirt may have come down to her knees, yet she refused to walk around without something around her waist.
"We can stop at the next planet.. I'll need to go by myself though, I'm sure those guys are still following.."
"You sure you know what to get? I can handle myself ya know, it's not like I haven't fought before.."
Jack shot a glare, he must be thinking I'm still just a child..
"No, it's not that, they'd get suspicious seeing you here.."
Riddick climbed from the booth, heading for a cabinet, starting to feel uncomfortable under her icy gaze. Something's wrong, I know it, it must be her. He fumbled in the cabinet for a second before pulling out a box of what looked like cereal. By the time her returned to the booth she was already there, peering up and waiting for food.
Thankful of not having to hold up the boxers, Jack found it amusing of the cereal he had. Greatly contradicting his usual 'bad boy' stereotype, 'Twix' just didn't seem to fit him. Riddick saw the small smile that Jack was showing off. It was forever since he saw that smile, and even now, it had changed along with everything else about her. He was constantly holding back questions that wanted to spill out, but if he said too much, she might just clam up and never say anything else to him again.
"What?" Riddicks amused voice questioned the playful grin Jack published, this must be rare, I'll have to indulge.
"Do you..enjoy..the rabbit?"
Riddick peered at the box, seeing the happy little bunny placed there.
"Just because I've murdered dozens of people doesn't mean I can't enjoy rabbit-made cereal does it?"
"Well, no, it's just, I always thought of you as a 'Count Chocula' type of guy, or maybe your very own cereal, Murders 'n Flakes."
Riddick shot a rare, playful glare before pouring his bowl and passing it to her. As she was grabbing it from him it slipped, spilling over the table and onto the ground. Jack shot up from the booth, her outer self began to panic, yet memories raced to past scenes. A hand of steel, spilled dish of dinner, dark rooms, bruised skin, and tears, so many tears.
Riddick had already stood up, slightly confused at the way Jack had suddenly turned from a happy person to suddenly freezing in place. A chill ran down his spine in a sudden wave, as if it was seeping from Jack. He already had the table brushed off when Jack let out an outburst. He reached over, grabbing her shoulder, attempting to wake her.
"No! Get away! I said I was sorry!" She ran into her room. Riddick got a picture of the younger Jack, a memory of when he said he was leaving. He knew it would hurt her, knew that he was something more than just a friend when he made the decision, but just as well, he knew things would be worse if he stayed. Jack did the same thing when he picked up he bag of belongings. Tears fell; leaving a salty trail to the room Imam gave her.
This time he knew there was some explanation, this time on her part. Reaching for the button to open the door, he stopped; thinking it would be better if she herself let him in. Who knows, it would probably be worse if he just walked right in in the middle of her breakdown.
Plagues, bad karma for the things I've done. That's what they are. These memories, why can't I forget them? He brought it down on himself; he never should have touched me. Another wave of memories slammed into Jack like a nightmarish title wave, a tsunami of morbid remnants of a hellish past that refused to wash away.
A tiny child, long brown hair, big green eyes - a dark figure, looming behind - A hand - Spilled food - A bruise - A tear - A gun - A loud shot - A scream, another - Panting breathes and new life began.
Finally they stopped, and Jack lay against the pillow. With that entire out she felt a tiny bit better. He probably thinks I'm a freak now..Oh well..
"Jack?" Riddicks voice came through the small intercom, worriment laced his tone.
Jack robbed her swollen eyes; she didn't want to deal with it right now. She didn't want to have to say anything; maybe he'll just go away if I don't say anything.
"Jack, let me help."
Help? How could he help?
"You can't.." Jacks voice came out in a pitiful sob, it hurt her to refuse something that an inner voice called out for, yet another beat down. A war, yes, that was the best way to describe it. Two ghosts battling it out, Jack was the battlefield, the tool, and the prize.
"I can, just let me."
I can? Can what? What am I saying? I've never given psychological help before. But she needs me; before she sinks too deep into, well, whatever she's doing to herself. There was a long pause, an eerie silence and the sound of the door sliding open.
She looked broken. Like some toy discarded because it was used too much, was dirty and ripped apart, then thrown into the trash. Her face was red with the stain of tears, and already it looked like fresh ones were ready to fall. Her gaze was left off to the side, too shameful to look up. Broken may have been too light of a word to describe the matted mess that stood there.
"It was dark." Jacks voice came in a hushed tone, it was obvious she was holding back sobs. Her airy whisper was just barely audible. Riddick guided her to the bed, pulling her down, since she wasn't doing anything herself by now. Busy, he figured, holding things back.
"And quiet, I hid in the corner of my room, or actually, a closet that was called my room."
Riddick winced; it must have been hell on that planet then, being pushed into the cave. And to think he thought of leaving her there. Silent tears were allowed to fall, no sobs, whines, or noise, just tears.
"He came, following my heartbeat, and he found me.."
Longer streams fell down Jacks flushed cheeks, her brows knitted together. Riddick started to touch her, yet the sudden change of tone held him back.
"And I shot him, thinking about everything he did to me, I shot him. That bastard! He killed me! He killed me then!" Jack fell onto Riddick, pounding his chest and letting everything go. The salty tears stained his top as the watery excess drained from her like she was ringing a towel.
Riddick, quite shocked to learn this sudden bit of news didn't try to stop her till his torso began to become tender, then only her was barely holding her back.
"It's..ok.." Well, not the best words since murder was indeed against the law, yet it was all that would come out, to at least to try to calm the wrecked girl.
A car crash was another way to describe it. Suddenly hitting that icy wall that had barricaded her for so long, yet there was something different this time. A figure could be seen through the ice. Distorted maybe, but all she could hope for was that it was Riddick. Standing there, looking through the ice that she had just completed running into. Please, please let that be.
Jacks nose began to ache as she continuously rubbed it against the unmoving Riddick. Safety was all she felt as he wrapped his burly arms around her. Security with chains, the same that had held her down, and that she allowed. All along though, she knew that as soon as he let go, the slack would be pulled up. At least this was the beginning; already she could feel her heart sinking back into the dreary depths. There was still time to fix this horrible mistake that her subconscious allowed.
"I will help, I promise."
Riddicks voice melded into her minds eye, wrapping a security blanket and letting her drift into a river of dreams. For the first time in about five years, comforting thoughts led her through the night of pure reveries.
I know this one is short, yet I'm still getting acquainted with this story line. Nc-17 won't be put in less I believe it will improve the story, although I think I'll be able to get through without being tempted. ;) I saw on a tabloid saying Vin Diesel was gay! Those idiots! .-would tear it up, but didn't won't to pay for it-. Stupid people.. -.-
Jack, cleaned and smelling normal once again, stepped out of her room, draped in an overly large shirt and boxers. Riddick had deemed her last pair of clothing 'trash' and tossed them down the disposable waste. Well, true they did seem to have a drifting scent that may never go away, yet it was her clothing, the last pair that she still held on to since.. Her thoughts trailed away, recognizing just where her musing was taking her. Again, she found something that would need to be fixed, and chains that would need to be tightened.
Her mental abuse had become subconscious. No longer was she realizing just what was happening, and what she was doing.
"Ah, now see, freshness." Jack held onto the boxers, fearful that they may slip off at any time.
"You can stop now. I really need my own clothing, you and your burly self- fitting clothing really don't fit.."
Slight embarrassment started to show on her face, appearing in a light tinge of pink over her nose. The shirt may have come down to her knees, yet she refused to walk around without something around her waist.
"We can stop at the next planet.. I'll need to go by myself though, I'm sure those guys are still following.."
"You sure you know what to get? I can handle myself ya know, it's not like I haven't fought before.."
Jack shot a glare, he must be thinking I'm still just a child..
"No, it's not that, they'd get suspicious seeing you here.."
Riddick climbed from the booth, heading for a cabinet, starting to feel uncomfortable under her icy gaze. Something's wrong, I know it, it must be her. He fumbled in the cabinet for a second before pulling out a box of what looked like cereal. By the time her returned to the booth she was already there, peering up and waiting for food.
Thankful of not having to hold up the boxers, Jack found it amusing of the cereal he had. Greatly contradicting his usual 'bad boy' stereotype, 'Twix' just didn't seem to fit him. Riddick saw the small smile that Jack was showing off. It was forever since he saw that smile, and even now, it had changed along with everything else about her. He was constantly holding back questions that wanted to spill out, but if he said too much, she might just clam up and never say anything else to him again.
"What?" Riddicks amused voice questioned the playful grin Jack published, this must be rare, I'll have to indulge.
"Do you..enjoy..the rabbit?"
Riddick peered at the box, seeing the happy little bunny placed there.
"Just because I've murdered dozens of people doesn't mean I can't enjoy rabbit-made cereal does it?"
"Well, no, it's just, I always thought of you as a 'Count Chocula' type of guy, or maybe your very own cereal, Murders 'n Flakes."
Riddick shot a rare, playful glare before pouring his bowl and passing it to her. As she was grabbing it from him it slipped, spilling over the table and onto the ground. Jack shot up from the booth, her outer self began to panic, yet memories raced to past scenes. A hand of steel, spilled dish of dinner, dark rooms, bruised skin, and tears, so many tears.
Riddick had already stood up, slightly confused at the way Jack had suddenly turned from a happy person to suddenly freezing in place. A chill ran down his spine in a sudden wave, as if it was seeping from Jack. He already had the table brushed off when Jack let out an outburst. He reached over, grabbing her shoulder, attempting to wake her.
"No! Get away! I said I was sorry!" She ran into her room. Riddick got a picture of the younger Jack, a memory of when he said he was leaving. He knew it would hurt her, knew that he was something more than just a friend when he made the decision, but just as well, he knew things would be worse if he stayed. Jack did the same thing when he picked up he bag of belongings. Tears fell; leaving a salty trail to the room Imam gave her.
This time he knew there was some explanation, this time on her part. Reaching for the button to open the door, he stopped; thinking it would be better if she herself let him in. Who knows, it would probably be worse if he just walked right in in the middle of her breakdown.
Plagues, bad karma for the things I've done. That's what they are. These memories, why can't I forget them? He brought it down on himself; he never should have touched me. Another wave of memories slammed into Jack like a nightmarish title wave, a tsunami of morbid remnants of a hellish past that refused to wash away.
A tiny child, long brown hair, big green eyes - a dark figure, looming behind - A hand - Spilled food - A bruise - A tear - A gun - A loud shot - A scream, another - Panting breathes and new life began.
Finally they stopped, and Jack lay against the pillow. With that entire out she felt a tiny bit better. He probably thinks I'm a freak now..Oh well..
"Jack?" Riddicks voice came through the small intercom, worriment laced his tone.
Jack robbed her swollen eyes; she didn't want to deal with it right now. She didn't want to have to say anything; maybe he'll just go away if I don't say anything.
"Jack, let me help."
Help? How could he help?
"You can't.." Jacks voice came out in a pitiful sob, it hurt her to refuse something that an inner voice called out for, yet another beat down. A war, yes, that was the best way to describe it. Two ghosts battling it out, Jack was the battlefield, the tool, and the prize.
"I can, just let me."
I can? Can what? What am I saying? I've never given psychological help before. But she needs me; before she sinks too deep into, well, whatever she's doing to herself. There was a long pause, an eerie silence and the sound of the door sliding open.
She looked broken. Like some toy discarded because it was used too much, was dirty and ripped apart, then thrown into the trash. Her face was red with the stain of tears, and already it looked like fresh ones were ready to fall. Her gaze was left off to the side, too shameful to look up. Broken may have been too light of a word to describe the matted mess that stood there.
"It was dark." Jacks voice came in a hushed tone, it was obvious she was holding back sobs. Her airy whisper was just barely audible. Riddick guided her to the bed, pulling her down, since she wasn't doing anything herself by now. Busy, he figured, holding things back.
"And quiet, I hid in the corner of my room, or actually, a closet that was called my room."
Riddick winced; it must have been hell on that planet then, being pushed into the cave. And to think he thought of leaving her there. Silent tears were allowed to fall, no sobs, whines, or noise, just tears.
"He came, following my heartbeat, and he found me.."
Longer streams fell down Jacks flushed cheeks, her brows knitted together. Riddick started to touch her, yet the sudden change of tone held him back.
"And I shot him, thinking about everything he did to me, I shot him. That bastard! He killed me! He killed me then!" Jack fell onto Riddick, pounding his chest and letting everything go. The salty tears stained his top as the watery excess drained from her like she was ringing a towel.
Riddick, quite shocked to learn this sudden bit of news didn't try to stop her till his torso began to become tender, then only her was barely holding her back.
"It's..ok.." Well, not the best words since murder was indeed against the law, yet it was all that would come out, to at least to try to calm the wrecked girl.
A car crash was another way to describe it. Suddenly hitting that icy wall that had barricaded her for so long, yet there was something different this time. A figure could be seen through the ice. Distorted maybe, but all she could hope for was that it was Riddick. Standing there, looking through the ice that she had just completed running into. Please, please let that be.
Jacks nose began to ache as she continuously rubbed it against the unmoving Riddick. Safety was all she felt as he wrapped his burly arms around her. Security with chains, the same that had held her down, and that she allowed. All along though, she knew that as soon as he let go, the slack would be pulled up. At least this was the beginning; already she could feel her heart sinking back into the dreary depths. There was still time to fix this horrible mistake that her subconscious allowed.
"I will help, I promise."
Riddicks voice melded into her minds eye, wrapping a security blanket and letting her drift into a river of dreams. For the first time in about five years, comforting thoughts led her through the night of pure reveries.
I know this one is short, yet I'm still getting acquainted with this story line. Nc-17 won't be put in less I believe it will improve the story, although I think I'll be able to get through without being tempted. ;) I saw on a tabloid saying Vin Diesel was gay! Those idiots! .-would tear it up, but didn't won't to pay for it-. Stupid people.. -.-