Inevitable

Added Disclaimer: I do not own the song in this chapter. The song is Love Like Winter, by AFI, and is most definitely not of my making. I only wish.

Same legend applies.

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Silver orbs flicked open, blinded by the sun. Genius, he'd left the blinds open. And it was a bright new day. Half of which, was already gone. He'd have to go out, and wander. The apartment couldn't contain him. The nude boy would mindlessly rise from the couch, seeming to nearly float into his room, putting on clothes that nearly matched the previous days. Baggy, blue and black pants, and a hoodie. Today, beneath the hoodie, resided only a neon blue fishnet shirt.

Just as mindlessly, he'd travel into the bathroom. Though as he was about to do his makeup, the silver would catch on red.

Red red red blood!
Genius. You sliced yourself remember
"No!"
Yes. You did it again. You do this every other night, Darien.
"No! I stopped!"
Clean it up, and go.

He wouldn't answer, but he would slowly go about cleaning. Rinsing the blood from the tub, washing it from the floor and sink. And then, he'd line his eyes in thick black liner, Bright blue shadow, mixed with black, complimenting the outfit. Then, he was ready. Wallet was shoved into his pants, and he'd walk out.

Stares. They were already staring. Eyes bored holes into him from the moment he stepped outside the building. And he could feel it. He was used to it. They always stared. Little did Darien know, that this would be the worst day for him to travel out. The worst and the best.

Park. Wanna go to the park.
Then go.
"Shut up! They're gonna think I'm---"
Shove it they know you're crazy.
"I'm not, damnit!"

She didn't argue, not this time. Boot-clad feet padded, jingle jangle, down the street, over the sidewalk. Once, just once, he'd trip, and roll, gathering laughs from the staring crowd. A stare silenced them. Crazy, who knows. And those steely eyes.. You can tell, look at his eyes he's crazy. One day he'll snap, and we'll all be better without him.

He'd walk to the park, where he'd crouch on his bench. It was his, simply because no one wanted to touch it once the crazy boy had been there. Who knows, maybe its contagious. Ignorance is not always bliss. Little did they know of the history that lay locked, dormant for the time being, inside the crazed boy's mind.

A soft, deep voice would sing, escaping the pale lips, One of his favorite songs, one that had etched into his mind years ago. It was an older song now, and few remembered it, but he did... he always would.

"Warn your warmth to turn away
Here It's December, everyday
Press your lips to the sculptures
And surely you'll stay (love like winter)
For of sugar and ice... I am made, I am made


It's in the blood, It’s in the blood
I met my love, before I was born
He wanted love, I taste of blood
He bit my lip, and drank my war
From years before, from years before

She exhales vanilla lace
I barely dreamt her yesterday(yesterday)...
Read the lines in the mirror through the lipstick trace: "Por Siempre."
She said, “It seems you're somewhere, faraway."
To his..."

While singing, he hadn't noticed the people staring. Singing blocked out everything. He didn't notice a girl, watching him closely. Didn't notice Krystal's utter silence. And he didn't notice the cruel smirk. Cold. The silver eyes opened, and them, the voice stopped. The melody was null-and-void, as he saw the smirk. And only the smirk...


He's sitting there on the stand, unable to testify. He can't even move, can't get down. They're done questioning. He's rocking, crying, the tears pouring down his cheeks. Pale eyes look up, for only a second, and all he can see is the cruel smirk. Cold. Remorse-less. Prideful of what he's done. He couldn't be identified and he knew it.

Darien has to be taken from the stand, has to be carried, he's suddenly hysterical. They take him Right past the smirking face. And in a deep, low voice, that only the hysterical boy could hear, he'd speak.

"I fucked your sister. She begged me to stop. She was screaming for you. And you let her die."

"NOOOO--"


--OOOOOOOO!!"
The scream would echo into reality, as the boy fell from the bench, amidst the crowd, falling to his knees, the gut-wrenching sound echoing, as tough torn from his throat. The smirk would draw closer as the crowd backed away, leaning to whisper, the same low voice.

"You let me get away. I've fucked countless other little girls, and they haven't found me. Its your fault little pussy, for letting your sister die, for letting the other girls get taken..."
"NO! IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"
"It was.."

The man would be cut off by a grunt, as the girl who'd been watching shoved him away. Rather than threatening, the cold smirk would shine down at the boy, before disappearing. And the girl would kneel before him.

"Shhh... Hey, shh, he's gone, its all ok.."
"K-k-krystal.. No! its not my fault!"
"Shh... come on, lets get you cleaned up."

The crowd would return to staring. There was a girl with the crazed boy. Was she crazed too? Or did she just not know. He's crazy, get away from him, he'll kill you. He's nuts, he's out there, he's not worth it. He'll never be better don’t even try.

The girl wouldn't listen. Her arms would wrap around the sobbing boy, pulling him close. "Shh.. Whatever happened to Krystal, she's in a better place now, yeah? No pain, nothing."

My fault my fault its all my fault
Would you listen to her for fucks sake?
No! It's my fault
Shut up, I like her! She's not an idiot.
She’s gonna think I'm crazy
She probably already does.

"NO! I'm not Crazy!"
"I never said you were. My names Aemiliah. What's yours?"
"O...oh. Darien."
"'s nice to meet you."

Blue eyes. Black and red hair. Makeup thick, dark, her lips painted. Black pants, baggy, accented in red, a red fishnet and black tank covering her upper half. Beautiful. And she wasn't afraid of him. Beautiful...

"Nice to meet you too. Why are you here."
Asshole, don't scare her away.
"You were singing, and then you stopped, and screamed... so I came over to get that guy ---
"SHUT UP!"
"Ok.."
"No, not, no, I'm sorry, I gotta go."

Stupid idiot, stupid stupid stupid.
Give her your number
idiot idiot idiot.

"Before you go, here's my number. Call me if you ever want to hang out, ok?"
she’s holding my hand, writing on it, gotta get away, gotta, gotta...
Gotta give her your number.
"Here's mine.."

Once numbers were exchanged he'd run, as fast as his throbbing legs could carry him. He'd opened the cuts again as he ran, he could feel the blood dripping, but he had to keep going had to get home, had to get up the stairs. Stairs, so many stairs. And stares. Lots of those, too. They were shocked, and word spread like wildfire, that a girl had stopped to help the crazed.

Up the stairs, out of the stares. Into the bathroom, pants to the floor, the bandages torn off. Damn the cuts were deep. He should have gotten stitches, but he wouldn't. They'd give him meds. Meds took Krystal away. He never took meds. Clean, once he'd wiped the blood away, and re-bandaged. And he heard it. The cell phone. Pants-less, he'd dive for it.

"'lo?"
"Hey Darien? It's Aemiliah, the girl you ran from."
"I... I'm sorry about that.."

Now that he was home, his sanity seemed to have returned, at least briefly. Home was safe. His apartment, that the smirk didn't know about. He didn't notice Krystal's silence as they spoke, he had someone else to talk to.

"It's alright, I just wanted to make sure you were ok, and to see if you wanted to hang out later tonight?"
"I don't know.."
"I just want to get to know you. You seem to like the park, we can chill there."
"I guess..."
"Alright. See you then?"
"Yeah... thank you, Aemiliah."

And now, he'd wait. Wait till it got dark, wait till the light faded. He'd been gone three hours, and he was sinking back into the couch. Krystal said nothing. He said nothing.

Blue eyes. Black hair. Red bangs. Thick makeup, and painted lips. Baggy pants and red fishnet. Beautiful.. beautiful... And she's not afraid of me...

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