Sleepy sleepy sleep. I meant to post this last night but I was dead tired. Now I'm dead tired again, spring cleaning. It's not even spring! The room I'm recleaning got cleaned and then my mother decided to empty a room into that room. T.T all my work for nothing. Mmm, this chapter is about... nm, I won't tell you the songs. There are two, I will say that. I'm gonna say this right now. Gringos are weird. Btw, anyone know where the quote: "This is America!" with the funny accent on 'America' comes from? Everyone's saying it and I'm confused. Yes, the gringos were saying it. It's really funny, I can say my name with a spanish accent when I add my middle name but I lose it when I take the middle name away... So weird but at least I'm not a gringo. No offense to the gringos out there. seriously.

Enjoy!

Create A Chain

Chapter 10:

Interlude: Blue and Gray Skies

Max blocking her emotions from me only dampened the first day of freedom. I remember her last thoughts to me, 'be happy'. I took an early morning flight near the cave we stayed in for the night, breathing in the scent of fresh air and pine. It tasted so sweet, so pure with the rising sun, revealing warmth to the world. With a flap of my wings I saw past the red, the orange, and yellow. I saw the blue sky rising from the darkness in the cloudless sky, so thin but smiling it was sweet like the world around me.

Everything was the complete opposite of Anne's house and the school, the dreading feeling of being trapped was gone, the suffocating scents of alcohol and other antiseptics no longer burned my nose, the smell of gas and other pollutants were gone too. It was sweet here, sweeter than the chocolate Max used to describe to me.

For a brief moment I wondered if Max could taste this air with me but I pushed it away, she was blocking me for good reason. Had she not wanted to run away in the first place, I never would have gotten this far… I would have never run away, gotten trapped, and be able to feel this air. The skies such a sweet blue and she made it come true just for me.

Freedom has always been beyond me; I realized as I drove through Virginia, I've never been truly free. When I was a baby I was trapped in the womb of a mother who didn't want me, as a child I was trapped in the School until Jeb saved me from there but kept me trapped in his home and from my wings. When I ran away Erasers followed me, I gained a voice that knew my every movement, chaining me in my own body. And then I came back to the hellhole called the School, chained from my heart to a contract unable to breathe.

The clear blue skies mean nothing to me anymore; I can't fly, no, not without the flock. The roads I travel are meaningless when I know they'll soon disappear from memory once the screams of experiments flood my mind. The air I breathe might as well be just carbon dioxide; I can't breathe anyway, not with the chains tightening on my heart and lungs.

I knew the contract Jeb made by heart… it echoes through my mind every second and makes the world become gray, the color of the paper and ink mixed together. It bothers me I couldn't tell Fang the details of the contract. How could I tell him he could be killed the next time I see him? It's like one of those secrets you don't want to keep but you're terrified to tell. Would they have been terrified of me if I told them they would be killed if I saw them again, or I'm not allowed to fly, or I can't do anything to go against it.

It nerved me the second time I read it through, the part where it said 'modified memories are prohibited' because I never thought of changing them like Jeb had. Why would I want to forget my flock? And then Photographs, also prohibited… I can only remember their faces; I can only wait out their expressions to fade away. Unfortunately I have a very good memory. I still remember every single word my third grade teacher said. If I modified my memory, so much I forgot about them, it wouldn't hurt anymore, would it? But it's prohibited. The chain I severed from, I've managed to cut off my limbs and heart in the process.

So gray… unable to care about what I want to… the apathetic world is drawing nearer, there's nothing to care for.

It's only been 18 hours, 35 minutes, and 49 seconds since I said goodbye. It hurts and I'm starting to become numb. Music doesn't reach my ears, I'm trying to live but my body's giving up. I don't want Fang to hear me, not my thoughts, not my silent tears, my haywire emotions that are slowly shutting down, I don't want him to know, I want him to have to freedom I can never achieve.

Angel watched silently as Fang tossed and turned in his sleep, his dreams were flooding her mind at full force, a sad song replaying over and over, and a place that was only black white and gray. She had never heard the song before and after searching through Fang's mind, neither had he. But it was sad like a manga book she made Anne buy, it was about a boy who never got to say how much he loved a girl before she passed away. What was the name of it? Angel shook her head, it wasn't important now, it was just a book she left sitting on her bed.
I turned the radio on in the truck as I headed to work after the weekend. It's been three days, seven hours, two minutes, and 23 seconds since I last talked to the flock. Three days and seven hours and I wonder how they all are…

My ears perk as a familiar song plays on the radio; it begins slowly with an acoustic guitar, oddly reminding me of rain. The way it starts foreshadows a sad story, like the one of Romeo and Juliet, those who died in wars, and the one of Fang and I. We're like Romeo and Juliet, just with wings and cars and crap like that…

How many times have I heard this song? They play it at least once every hour, why does no one get tired of this on the radio? I gripped the wheel tighter, this song is so depressing.

Will someone please stop the sad song?

The Sad Song. Fang shook his head for the billionth time that hour. That thought kept on running through his mind whether he was thinking of something or not. Someone please… Fang stopped in his tracks; he felt a thud behind him but paid no mind to anything, not the altitude, the flock, or the plane zooming past them. It was her voice, Max's voice and it sounded in pain. Fang's heart throbbed; mimicking the pain Max was feeling thousands of miles away.

"What's your problem?" Iggy snapped from behind him. Fang held out his hand to silence everyone as he strained his mind to listen to Max's.

Someone please, please, stop this sad song! It's killing me inside and out, it makes me so afraid I'll never see them again…

I've been to three hundred and forty-seven experiments today but sixty-two of them have died. It's hard to think about most of the time, the flock used to have to deal with this, and I still do.

I bit my lip, the song replaying in my mind. How many times has it been? I've lost count because I keep telling myself not to cry. The song is so sad but at the same time it makes me so angry because that's the one emotion I don't want to feel.

Fang stood silently in front of an ATM, accessing an account he hadn't touched in months. He checked the balance before withdrawing enough money to pay for at least five meals. What was the sad song? He wondered as the flock headed towards the nearest McDonalds. In his heart he knew it had something to deal with his dreams.
There it is again! I glared at my radio; they've played it three times since I've gotten into the truck! I've only been in this thing for half an hour!
Fang winced as he sat in a table at McDonalds. Nudge and Gazzy were bringing the food and Angel was mindlessly talking to Iggy. It felt painful, Fang realized. What happened to Max? Why is she so hurt?
I cursed as I gazed at my burnt fingers; they were numb from being shocked by the electrical wires. I had just torn out the radio; it had me at wits end. I hate them for playing it! Every word was distracting, every word made me impaired – almost on the verge of tears –, every sound caught me off guard no matter how many times I listened. I curled into myself on the drivers' seat; ignoring the dangling wires beside my head, the crushed radio on the floor. I breathed in the scent of the truck. It smelled a little like the School, only a little, and a lot like Fang.

I miss them: my family, my heart, and soul. They were so sad when I last saw them, I want so desperately to make them happy, and I don't want them to be sad anymore. What day did I go home? Sunday… yes it was Sunday. Sunday is the saddest day…

I wonder what would happen if Fang saw me now… Would he be mad? I destroyed his truck and hurt myself. Would he be sad? I'm in such a mess. I won't be able to say anything to him… not if he ripped open the truck door right now. I'd probably curl tighter, trying to ignore this song and the screams of experiments.

Max?… I curled tighter now, such a familiar voice. Don't listen, don't listen to my thoughts! Max… talk to me… what's wrong? What's hurting? His worried expression made a picture beneath my lids.

Nothing… it's nothing. Were my thoughts pleading? I really don't want him to listen. I don't want him to hear. Just a sad song, a sad song can't defeat me. I offered a smile, sending a picture of me smiling of a happier time.

Liar. You're a horrible liar.

Stop it! Just stop it! You don't know my thoughts! You don't know what it's like to die inside. I curled tighter, trying to imagine the screams away.

Of course I do. That plant of yours. I died inside when I thought you betrayed us. But Max, I'm right here, you don't have to be scared.

I'm not scared. You're a liar to think I am. I opened my eyes slowly watching as the wires swayed slightly from side to side. Outside the afternoon light was waning, I sat up, starting the engine while ignoring Fang's protests. I don't want logic anymore, there's too much anywhere I go. I refuse to listen. I'll be fine… just leave me alone where it's impossible to be with you. I'll get better. It's only been a week. Bye.

I'm not going to get better.

I realized this a month or so later while celebrating Christmas alone. I didn't have a Christmas tree, my Christmas feast was three double cheeseburgers, two super sized French fries, a soda, and an extra large milk shake. The only person I bought presents for and the only person I received presents from is Jeb. Oh, and Santa. Thanks Santa, for the lump of coal beside your cookies.

I don't go out at night, nor do I dare to purposely look for the sky. Everything is too gray, so bland and boring. The only laughter I hear is when the White Coats give experiments a literal laughing gas. But because it's so gray, it's like stagnant air. I can't breathe, the gravity feels like Jupiter.

But it's funny – not really – that it's when I'm not thinking about it I begin to unconsciously search for Fang's voice. I hold a conversation with him and I can only remember the note of his low melodic voice, never the conversation. I must be going insane. Didn't I promise to stop talking to him? Didn't I say I was going to sever all loose ends?

I wonder if I can make my life completely gray, where everything might as well be dead, and at the same time wear a colorful mask to all those around me. That is, of course, if the colorful mask isn't crushed by the force of the stagnant air in the gray world.

I blare the new stereo as loud as I can with music that has no gaps in the sound. It could be heavy rock to the verge of heavy death metal but no gaps in the music. I'm afraid I'll go mad if I do. The deafening silence is waiting for me to search for Fang, for me to panic, for me to suffocate, and for me to be crushed beyond repair.

Forever and a Day. Today is the start of my spring break but I make no promises. I'll probably update here and there but no promises. I'm going to be busy with my Nanay (grandmother on the equator) who I haven't seen in years.

Psst... I'm hosting a contest... It's on my profile page if you're curious look for: All Hail The Heartbreaker totally easy find. P.S. It's lonely.

Challenge: What was your first video game? (btw, Nintendo 64 all the way, I'm playing with mine tonight :D)

Preview:

Two years I've been gone. Two years I could only dream of all their faces. Two years, how much has passed? Have they been happy? Have I hurt them? Did I end up condemning them? Were they able to live freely? Did they continue to miss me?

"Stop it." Iggy's voice was annoyed, I looked up at the man who was almost seven feet tall. His strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a short low ponytail and he had a little stubble on his chin. "Your heart is racing so loud I can't hear my music." And I noticed the headphones in his ears.

Nudge greeted me with a hug out of nowhere, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "Max, you're in a white dress, why? Don't tell me, did you two get married? Why would you go without us? But anyway did you get married like the fancy way like in the movies with the horse carriages and everything? Or did you get married weird like in Las Vegas with the weirdo Elvis Presily or Alien thingy like on CSI? Wait… so did you get married?" Nudge's expression was puzzled. She had hit it straight on.

"Er, yeah, we did." I blushed and Angel squealed, jumping up and down.

Adieu
Nightwing