So, here you go. I hope you enjoy.
The hardest prison to escape is your mind- unknown
I have all these stories that unfold in my mind, but all stories have a figment of truth hidden somewhere deep in the words. My writing centers around agony and death and despair.
Depressing right?
I can never escape the horrors of my past, a past that everyone knows about, yet has not even the slightest idea.
They think that just because they know the outline of what happened, that they suddenly know me, but they weren't there. They have no fucking idea of the scars that that can leave on a person.
You can't escape it because you can escape your own mind; it holds you hostage until the bars are built up and you're stuck in your own personal prison of hell. Your only companion is your memories that you try desperately to get away from and your thoughts that are your cell mates.
You wanted to know,
-Scotty
The chill doesn't effect me as I skate to school in my thin hoodie. It's little protection against the frigid wind, yet I revel in the cold, let it seep deep into my bones.
I force my beanie down harder on my head as it starts to ride up my scalp and into my helmet.
Though my bangs are set messily over my eyes, it's easy for me to see as I come riding through the school gates and jump a bench on my board.
The crowd of students part warily as I roll my way through the halls and stop at my locker.
I tap my locker and it springs open as I shove my skate into the small space. Then I lean against it as I wait for my best friend to make his appearance.
Which he does a moment later with, surprisingly, a girl by his side. I recognize her as the one from the office the day before.
I laugh because she looks absolutely terrified when she sees me.
"Hey Lilly." Oliver greets." "So how'd it go yesterday?"
I turn to my friend with a sigh. "Not so good. Apparently I always decide to ditch on Mondays."
"...Well you do."
"Yeah, I know that, and you know that; it doesn't mean that Charlie has to figure it out."
"Was it bad?"
"I probably made it worse than it could have been." I smirk.
"Oh god, please tell me you did not flirt with the secretary in front of him." He begs and I just give him a look. "You flirted with the principal?" He then shakes his head and gives an exasperated sigh.
"I can't help myself, it's just too funny."
Oliver suddenly remembers the girl standing awkwardly to his left, and grins. "Oh Lilly, this is Miley, Miley, Lilly."
I take her offered hand and kiss it in a sweeping bow. "Milady."
She blushes when I look up into her eyes but confusion sweeps through me as I see that her eyes are a timid green.
"I thought they where blue." I mumble to myself as I straighten up. A hand slaps me in the stomach and I turn my surprised look to Oliver.
"You can't flirt with her. I would like to have another friend other than you some day."
"Alright fine." I raise my hands in surrender. "I will be on my best behavior. Promise."
"What reputation was Mr. Luger talking about?" Miley asks curiously.
I rake my eyes over her and once again notice how pretty she is.
The warning bell rings and the kids start to depart for first period. "Ask around, anybody would just love to tell you my life story. Just don't believe everything you hear."
Then I turn and walk to class with both people staring after me.
It's another day where I can't get lost in my stories, and instead, conflicting eyes flash across my brain.
Blue, green, blue, green, blue, blue, green, blue. What color are they, or what color will they be when I see her again?
I have a pen to paper but instead of words, pictures appear. Instead of the frantic chicken scrawl rushing to keep pace with my thoughts, my hand moves carefully, forming the shapes and lines delicately.
When my hands set down the pen, eyes stare back at me; at least ten border the page, sculpted with care, all different shades yet they are all the same.
For some reason her eyes captured me, mesmerized me.
Are they blue or green? Something urges me to find out.
So when lunch rolls around, I eagerly find my empty seat in the cafeteria with my tray of slop. Minutes later, Miley appears, nervous and hesitant to take a seat.
"Sit." I encourage with a wave of my hand, and she does. "You know my rep." I state.
She nods making me grin.
Her eyes are blue and green, I decide. Right now, they are a pale nervous blue.
"You have very pretty eyes." I say and shake my head when she blushes. "I'm not flirting, I promised I wouldn't, it's just a statement. At first I thought they were green, then they were blue so I thought they were that. Then they were green again and now they're blue again. Mood eyes." I mumble the last part more to myself, though I'm sure she heard it. "They're pretty." I say again in a much more normal voice and sit forward in my chair to start eating my lunch.
This just seems to make her blush more.
"So tell me about yourself." I say as Oliver takes a seat beside me.
"Um... Well, I moved here from Tennessee."
"That explains the accent." I see her start to look uncomfortable so I quickly add, "Don't worry, it's cute."
I feel something hit me in the shins and I turn a glare to my best friend. "I wasn't flirting." I growl at him and send my foot back in his direction.
His knees slam into the table as my foot makes contact with his leg.
I turn back to Miley. "So what's your favorite color?"
"Green." She immediately says.
"Food?"
"My dad's homemade flapjacks."
I finish my lunch and push the tray away from me as I lean back in my chair.
"Hobbies?"
"I play the guitar and sing a little."
"Cool, maybe I can write a song for you to sing for me." Again my cocky smirk makes its way to my lips before I quickly wipe it off. "Sorry; habit."
She nods, a little more confident than before, her eyes shining a darker blue with green ringing around the pupil.
"It's fine." Then she leans forward into the table. "But what about you? Tell me something that only Oliver knows."
I contemplate that for a moment, wondering if I should revel anything to this particular stranger.
I stand up because the bell is about to ring, and walk towards the door, only to stop at Miley's chair to dip my head low and let my lips brush her earlobe.
I speak in a low murmur so there is no chance of anyone else overhearing.
"Despite what you may hear, that I have slept with over half the school, I'm still a virgin. No one has touched me. They are all lies and your welcome to check for yourself any time." I hesitate before straightening up. "And I'm not flirting."
Then I give her my signature smirk and exit the doors just as the bell rings, her shocked expression burned into my eyelids.
Of course the effect would have been better if she didn't have the next class with me and Oliver, but I make do.
To my somewhat disappointment, over the next two weeks she stops flinching every time I touch her face's main color stops being red. Only when my compliments are genuine do her cheeks flush a light pink.
Her eyes I notice, have a wide range of blue and green shades and I find myself looking into them to gage her emotions to different things.
She looks at Oliver with a warm friendly blue but me with an unsure blue-green. When she's teased, made fun of or even flirted with, she shies away with a soupy green. After that one instance, I took it upon myself to make sure everyone knew that she was with me and therefore, not to be messed with.
After a boy was sent to the nurse for touching her a little too intimately, word spread quickly that she was my girl. Lilly Truscott's first real relationship that doesn't consist of a one-night stand.
Of course I have never had a one-night stand, but I let them believe what they want. I'm not even sure where the rumor that I was sleeping around came from, actually I do, but I encouraged it.
Miley stuck to me a little closer, appreciating the protection I give, and not caring about what words pass other's lips.
In just those two weeks, she's accomplished the one thing that only one other has been able to do. Become my friend.
My flirting became so obviously playful that even Oliver had stopped pestering me about it. It also helped that she hadn't been scared away yet.
"So want to come over to my house today?" She asks as we walk out the school shoulder to shoulder some Friday weeks later.
I raise my eyebrows and wiggle them up and down suggestively. "Will your father be home, because it he will be, I can find a way to keep you quiet while you're screaming my name."
She rolls her eyes, not even fazed anymore.
"Yes he will be home, and so will my wonderful dwarf of a brother."
I grin.
"Sure. Older or younger?" I ask.
"Older."
My smile becomes a little less real as a tare pulls at a jaggedly healing wound in my chest.
"Sweet, we should totally pull some pranks on him."
"Oh no, if you do that he will go after me, even if I had nothing to do with it."
"Darn."
We fall into a comfortable silence as I state behind her, allowing her to show me the way until we stop at a fairly large house about three blocks down from my own.
She opens the door for me and I roll right in, stopping just inside the threshold to step off my board and set my book bag to the side.
"Nice." I comment as I glance around the homey looking room.
She shuts the door behind her and walks toward a man standing in the kitchen.
"Hey daddy, this is Lily."
"Hey bud. The girl you've been talking about?"
"Yup, she's the one."
My head starts to buzz as Mr. Stewart makes his way from around the bar and closer to me.
His hand stretches out and bewilderingly, in an old memory, an old reaction, I stumble backward flinching. Only after do I realize what I did and mentally kick myself.
I'm strong now, I don't flinch, I stand tall and fight back... Plus, he's not here, he's dead. I straighten up quickly and take his outstretched hand.
"Sorry." I laugh a little, successfully easing his quizzical expression the slightest bit. But not Miley's.
"Why don't you girls head upstairs; dinner will be ready in a few hours." He steps back around the counter to continue throwing spices into a pot.
Miley grabs my wrist and pulls me up to her room
"So what was that back there?"
"What was what?" I ask with a smooth air.
"You know what."
I just stare at her with a blank look, her eyes a calculating green rimmed with light blue. She holds my gaze for a few moments before relenting. "Fine, what do you want to do?"
"How about who?" I wriggle my eyebrows and she just rolls her eyes.
"You never stop do you?" She has a slight smile so I know that she's not annoyed yet.
"I can go all night."
"Oh my god." She groans and leans back on her bed. Is it just my eyes playing tricks on me, or does she have a slight flush to her cheeks?
Her dad calls us down about two hours later of us just talking.
"Oh my god, this spaghetti is amazing!" I exclaim though a mouthful of noodles and sauce.
"Well it's good that someone here appreciates my cooking." He says with a pointed look at Jackson, Miley's brother, who is already halfway through his bowl. His comment though, goes unnoticed by the indulging boy.
"If I marry Miley and become your daughter in-law, will you cook for me every day?"
I receive a hearty chuckle from him and a soft scoff from Miley.
"It's nice to know you would be marrying me for my dad." She is smiling.
I grin at her. "Baby, you know I love you."
Everyone at the table, besides me, starts to choke on what ever is in their mouth.
I laugh at this before shoveling more food into my mouth and effectively clearing my plate before Jackson.
"Can I have seconds?"
I jolt awake panting and sweating and for a split second, I almost think it's blood.
I rush into the bathroom and frantically try to wash away the red stains that aren't there. Raking my nails over my skin, the blood just wouldn't go away.
Panicked hands still my frantic scrubbing and scratching. The blood looks so real, turning the water pink and spiraling down the drain.
"What are you doing?" A female voice rasps behind me and I don't know if it's her hands shaking mine or the other way around.
"It wont come off." I tell her, straining to scrub the dripping crimson away.
"What, what wont come off?" Miley begs for the answer and my mind is so fuzzy that I don't even think to lie.
"The blood."
She pulls me into a hug from behind so I am pulled away from the gushing water and so her front presses into my back.
"Lils honey, you are the one causing the blood." She speaks softly as if to a child, and her words suddenly cause pain to register in my hands.
I crumble to my knees and press my forehead into the tile taking deep gasping breaths through my mouth, trying not to smell the metallic sent of blood.
Miley gently takes my scratched hands into a towel and pats them dry with extreme care, though the cloth still irritates my sensitive skin.
I'm left there sitting stupidly as my friend fiddles around getting supplies and smearing different liquids and goos on my hands before finally wrapping them in a soft cloth.
"Thanks." I murmur when she finally sits back on her heels to study me.
She just nods, eyes a blue grey like a rain cloud above the ocean before a storm.
And a storm is coming.
"What was that- and don't you dare say nothing Lillian Truscott." I give a halfhearted glare at the use of my full name.
"Nothing to worry about-" I rush on before she interrupts me, because I can tell she was going to, "Just a dream that I haven't had in a while. It threw me off and I was still half way in it."
I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted more of an explanation but that was all I was willing to give right now.
"Please..." I beg her softly. "I'm not ready."
It takes only a second of her looking into my eyes for her to agree.
"Alright, let's go back to bed."
She helps me to my feet by pulling me up from my elbows. Her grip is gentle but unyielding. There was no chance of me falling through her grasp.
We stand close for a moment, both of our breathing finally calming from the events, before she releases me and leads the way out the door.
We get under the now chilly covers and do our best to fall back asleep, even if our minds are still reeling.
So let me know what you think. Reviews are very much appreciated
-Fantasy