A Sea Of Sound
Chapter Five:
"When I tell you I don't want you to freak out, okay? You're welcome to leave afterwards but please don't freak out." Jack nodded, his features ushering me on. "Well y'know how I said I was nineteen?" Jack nodded again, "Well I was telling the truth, just one part was missing. How long have I been nineteen is the real question."
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, his eyebrows bunched up in confusion.
"I-I'm a vampire." I heard Jack quietly gasp. "Don't worry I've been like this for over one hundred years, I know how to control myself. But I need time to control myself sometimes, if I'm hungry, like I did back there."
"I'm sorry Alex I-I've got to go." Jack said shaking his head, "I'm really sorry but I just, I can't..."
"It's okay, I understand." I whispered into my hands, which were now pressed up to my face. I stared up to his face for — most likely — the last time, an apologetic look spread across it. Then he closed the door, I heard him run down the stairs and slam the front door. I sat tugging at my hair, screaming. "WHY FUCKING ME?!"
I ran into the bathroom, being able to break my razor with my fingers. I took one of the blades, pressing it into my skin. I dragged it across, and nothing. No fucking blood. In fact after about two seconds the scar closed, one of the many fucked up things of being a vampire. Still — I liked the pain — I keep dragging the blade across my skin continuously for about an hour. When my wrist felt raw I ran through to my bedroom, crying into the pillow for god knows how long.
Jack's POV:
"Dad, we have to get out of here now. Pack your shit just please?" I shouted before running up to my room. I pulled out my suitcase shoving all my clothes into it. "Dad?!" I shouted.
"Shut the fuck up Jack!" I heard him yell from his bedroom.
"Dad we need to get out of this fucking house now." I said entering his bedroom. As predicted he was drunk, a bottle of vodka in his hand. He brought the bottle to his lips, murmuring something to himself.
"We're not going anywhere! Get back in your room before I fucking drag you there." I shook my head, bringing out his suitcase and starting to pack his clothes. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Jack where the fuck are we going to go? Go back to your fucking room. Fucking pathetic emo." I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. I continued packing before I felt something hard hit my gut. My dad stood over me, kicking me in the gut repeatedly. "Fucking pathetic excuse for a son." He kicked every time he said a word. I felt his glass bottle smash against my head, the alcohol from the bottle soaking my hair. My vision starting blacking out and I heard my front door slam.
"Alex?!" I yelled, for some stupid reason. So I guess this is how I die.
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, his eyebrows bunched up in confusion.
"I-I'm a vampire." I heard Jack quietly gasp. "Don't worry I've been like this for over one hundred years, I know how to control myself. But I need time to control myself sometimes, if I'm hungry, like I did back there."
"I'm sorry Alex I-I've got to go." Jack said shaking his head, "I'm really sorry but I just, I can't..."
"It's okay, I understand." I whispered into my hands, which were now pressed up to my face. I stared up to his face for — most likely — the last time, an apologetic look spread across it. Then he closed the door, I heard him run down the stairs and slam the front door. I sat tugging at my hair, screaming. "WHY FUCKING ME?!"
I ran into the bathroom, being able to break my razor with my fingers. I took one of the blades, pressing it into my skin. I dragged it across, and nothing. No fucking blood. In fact after about two seconds the scar closed, one of the many fucked up things of being a vampire. Still — I liked the pain — I keep dragging the blade across my skin continuously for about an hour. When my wrist felt raw I ran through to my bedroom, crying into the pillow for god knows how long.
Jack's POV:
"Dad, we have to get out of here now. Pack your shit just please?" I shouted before running up to my room. I pulled out my suitcase shoving all my clothes into it. "Dad?!" I shouted.
"Shut the fuck up Jack!" I heard him yell from his bedroom.
"Dad we need to get out of this fucking house now." I said entering his bedroom. As predicted he was drunk, a bottle of vodka in his hand. He brought the bottle to his lips, murmuring something to himself.
"We're not going anywhere! Get back in your room before I fucking drag you there." I shook my head, bringing out his suitcase and starting to pack his clothes. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Jack where the fuck are we going to go? Go back to your fucking room. Fucking pathetic emo." I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. I continued packing before I felt something hard hit my gut. My dad stood over me, kicking me in the gut repeatedly. "Fucking pathetic excuse for a son." He kicked every time he said a word. I felt his glass bottle smash against my head, the alcohol from the bottle soaking my hair. My vision starting blacking out and I heard my front door slam.
"Alex?!" I yelled, for some stupid reason. So I guess this is how I die.
Notes
oops3 comments and I'll update tomorrow??
10/3/13