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Topics - Slaye
Though it was late in the day, nearing three in the afternoon, the room was dark, curtains were pulled to block out any and all light that tried to peek in from the outside world. There was a single faint light within the room, the glow of a burning cigarette, which was propped between Jacoby's parched lips as he stared towards the ceiling. He exhaled, smoke billow from between his barely parted lips. He lay still, huffing and puffing at the cigarette until it was nothing more than a filter that burned out.
Wordlessly he flicked it into a empty beer bottle that rest beside his bed. His hands stretched out in the darkness, groping for his bedside table and the carton of cigarette that he had purchased the day before - only to discover that they were all gone.
It had been another sleepless night, one that weighed particularly heavily upon his mind. It had been two torturous months since his younger sister, his father, and his uncle had all vanished, seeming having fallen off the face of the planet. There had been no real trace of any of the three, and it was becoming something of a legend amongst the townsfolk.
Kylie's cell phone had been found on the side of the road, between their home and that of Gabriel, their uncle. Glass had everywhere, all the street lights were broken, they speculated that whomever was responsible for her disappearance had done this to prevent anyone witnessing his crimes, and it had worked. No one had seen so much as a trace of the girl that night.
Then there was Gabriel. They went to his home, his front door was open, which was not unusual, though everything in his home was left on. His supper was sitting on the table, barely touched, a kettle was on the stove. The water had long been evaporated and the kettle was burnt as black as ink, but there was no sign of him either. No one had spotted him leaving his house. His car, backpack, everything besides his wallet was within his home, and he certainly wasn't one to just up an leave, he much more responsible than that.
Finally, there was Jeremy. Within their residence there was hints of a crime scene. A broken television, his wife's cut up clothing, toppled furniture. The cell phone with the message from Eve, saying that she would never return.
Everyone had a field day with their speculations, which had become horror stories. Stories of how Jeremy had lost his mind, killed his brother and youngest child, leaving their bodies somewhere in his house before fleeing. There were many different versions, in some he simply kidnapped Kylie and ran, in others he killed her, but there were those who believed that Jeremy saw Eve in their daughter, and after having lost his mind, tried to take the girl, as a replacement for her mother. Some said Gabriel caught wind of this abuse and when he tried to intervene Jeremy had killed them both.
These obscene rumors and horror stories had ruined Jacoby. Not only was he left alone, for he had not heard from his mother since the day she left, and his older sister had severed all ties with the town and the bag social stigma now attached to their family name, but the way that the townsfolk looked at him ate him alive. There was no pity in their eyes, only fear, detestment, and a morbid curiosity for the truth.
He also yearned for this truth, to put everything at bay, but he had not gotten anything, and the police had long given up. Three of the people that he held dearest were gone, and he was the only soul in the world that cared about it.
Jacoby rose his right hand to his face, rubbing a little at his eyes, which threatened to water. He felt so weak, so broken, that he could hardly stand to go on. As his fingers touched his face, his left hand rose to his right, caressing the gash that was still prominent there, running along the length of his arm. A month ago he had tried to kill himself, and he had come within an inch of death when someone thought it appropriate to save him. A cruelty that he did not feel he deserved.
He had battled depression, but it had skyrocketed when his family fell apart. He no longer had a reason to live. No on to love, no one to protect, no one to look after or to pester. Even the friends that he held dear had abandoned him. Truly, the Evans' name was a curse, but he could not find the strength to change it to his mother's last name, for she had so willingly cast him out into the cold world to be left on his own.
Jacoby shook a little where he lay. Two months may not have seemed a long time to most, but in this time he had battled with an addiction to alcohol, that he had picked up not a day after everyone had disappeared. He drowned himself in the stuff, and he didn't just get drunk, he always drank to an extent that put his life in danger, not that it really mattered to him.
It was only recently that he decided he had to control himself, and it wasn't even because he wanted to or because he felt he would be better off, he just kept thinking how his sister and father would be disappointed to see him in such a sorry state. This gave him enough willpower to cut back, though he could not give it up entirely. Jacoby could not deny that the alcohol took the edge off, something he still direly needed.
Slowly he inhaled, wrinkling his nose as the cigarette smoke still hung in the air. He brought himself to a sitting position, did a little groping for his lamp and promptly switched it on, lighting up the room - which looked like a disaster area. Clothes, beer bottles, everything was strewn across the floor, and yet in all the chaos there saw a perfectly clean desk, organized with a single sketchbook on top of it, as well as writing utensils.
He swung his legs around to the edge of the bed, sitting there in just his pajama bottoms as he gazed around. His eyes were green, and his body had several detailed tattoos that he had designed himself, for it had been his passion in life. He was a tattoo artist, and he had been a rather promising one, before life had stabbed in the back and created the train wreck that he was at present.
Jacoby made his way to the desk, picking up a beer bottle, a full one, which he tore open with his bare hand, obvious to the physical pain for it was eternally overshadowed by his emotional distress. He stuck out his tongue a little, as it felt dry. A sing stud ran through it, a piercing that he had gotten some many years ago. Similarly bottom lip was pierced on both sides (called snake bites) and a one of his ears had three studs running in a line starting at the lobe.
Retracting his tongue he took a drink, a rather long one, stumbling through the mess and to the desk, which he regarded carefully, for he did not even set his beer down upon it, rather placed it upon the floor.
He pulled out the chair alongside it, sitting himself, bracing himself as he opened his sketchbook, flipping through the pages. The same three people appeared over and over again, and this trio was the only thing in the entirety of the sketchbook, the only people in the world that he wished to see, and the only ones that he would likely never lay eyes upon again.
Pushing the sketchbook away as tears swelled in his eyes, Jacoby lay his heavy head down upon the desk and simply sobbed. Every day was the same as this. Long, hard. Lonely. Though he tried to motivate himself, tried to soldier on, the burden on his mind made it extremely hard for him to move on. He wanted to dearly, he knew that his father, uncle and sister would all want him to be happy, but he could not. There was nothing in the world for him.
He bleakly recalled the 'friends' that had so kindly cast him aside when he needed them the most. The girlfriend that left him because he was too caught up in his own emotions to be able to tend to her every beck and call. The boss that had fired him for being 'unreliable,' when he was in fact over come by grief.
It was certainly true that there was nothing in the world for him, besides unanswered questions and a feeling of being diseased. All he wanted, no, all he NEEDED, was for one person to reach out for him. Just one. Just one person who could reach out, touch his heart, and assure him that things would be okay.
In two months he hadn't found that person, or anyone, that had cared enough to try this. Not even his remaining sibling, whom had cast aside their family name and run off with a boy.
Truly, Jacoby was alone in the world.
He had also come to accept that his family would not be returning to him. It was a painful realization, one that assured him would help him to move on, but how could it? How could he possibly get over what had happened? He wasn't even sure what had happened, how could they possibly know? How could they possible understand?
They couldn't, he glumly told himself, raising his head from the table and pushing out the chair slightly. He reached for the bottle of beer, then froze. Across the room he had spotted several bottles of medication, all calling out to him. Their offered was tempting, truly, and he found himself moving towards his closet, where he grabbed a bottle of whiskey that he had hidden from himself, before making his way towards them.
He could end his misery, and he could do it painlessly. Was it really better for him to be left behind in misery? Or would he be happier to join his family in the afterlife?
Well, people said that suicide was the greatest sin, so he was probably hell bound, but Jacoby liked to believe that God would understand his pain. After all, he hadn't sent anyone to make his life better, hadn't given him back his family, so surely he wanted Jacoby to join him?
It was twisted logic, perhaps, but Jacoby was desperate. His mind wanted to believe that this was the right thing to do, and so he convinced himself that it was. There was no other way. Eventually he would destroy himself regardless, and frankly he would get it done and over with rather than extending an already outlived life.
He sat on the edge of his bed, various pill containers having been popped open, he splayed their contents over the sheets. First, he downed several sleeping pills, washing them down with whiskey. He waited patiently then, until he began to feel it, that chemically educed sense of sleep that felt as though it added fifty pounds to him.
When it struck, which took about ten minutes, he just began to swallow pills like candy, a few at a time, each followed by a splash of whiskey. It did not take long for him to pass out, be it from the pills or the alcohol (most likely both), and as he fell back onto his bed the bottle of whiskey fell to the floor, shattering, spilling it aromatic contents over the floorboards and the mess that was upon them. His breathing was shallow, slowing, growing quieter, quieter.
Before long his chest had stopped heaving at all, and without so much as a single sensation of pain he passed on to become, leaving behind an attractive corpse, and yet another part of the towns biggest mystery; the Evans' family.
Gabriel remembered that day quite vividly, as he always would. It was a warm day, late in the summer. The sun was shining, but dark clouds were slowly rolling over the small town, threatening to burst and spill their contents in a downpour. The breeze was gentle, warm. All in all, it had been a beautiful Saturday, just like any other.
Jeremy hadn't even reached thirty. He was still youthful, very much upbeat and unlike the bitter man that he had become years later. He was sitting on the edge of a sandbox that he had built for the children, and he watched as his two older children played with a couple of the neighbourhood kids. Meanwhile, he held the youngest in his lap. She was barely three years old, and had little interest in playing with the others. She was much to curious about the world, she did not like simply sitting around, she wanted to explore!
A dragonfly buzzed around them, causing the girls to scream and run away from the sandbox, while the boys swung plastic buckets and shovels at it, trying to kill the elusive bug as they ran about like madmen. They were not successful, and soon lost interest as they lost sight of it. With that, they through down their equipment and made for the open garage door, where a basketball net was hanging.
The large bug had perched itself on the youngest child's nose, and she just stared at it, in a wide eyed wonder. Her little hands reached for it, attempting to catch it, but Jeremy brushed a hand along her nose, effectively dispersing the bug and making her giggle as it clearly tickled her.
"You don't want to play with that, Kylie, it's dirty," he laughed a little, allowing her to crawl from his lap and out of the sandbox, apparently intent on chasing the thing. He rose quickly to follow her, as in an instant she had managed to escape his reach, but as he turned he spotted his younger brother standing there, the little girl in his arms. Jeremy smiled, resting his hands briefly on his hips, "well, well. Finally found your way back here again, did you college boy?" He teased, which was more or less how he always talked to his brother, and the man usually returned it, but not that day.
Gabriel appeared almost morbid as he looked at the girl, running the back of his finger over her face, "my, you've grown," he murmured, noticing how strangely the girl looked at him, as she clearly did not recognize him. He couldn't blame her, of course, he had been gone for some time and she was so little that she wouldn't have remembered. He sighed heavily, slowly looking to his brother, clearly not himself.
Jeremy furrowed his brows, dusting his hands off in his oil stained jeans as he approached his sibling. "You look like someone killed your best friend," he quietly pointed out, watching as his brother shifted idly and awkwardly in his place. He was growing worried, that perhaps something was wrong, he hadn't Gabriel so conflicted since their parents had died years earlier.
"Is... Eve home?" He awkwardly asked, feeling his chest twinge as Jeremy nodded. Hesitantly he offered the girl back to him, and cleared his throat, "would you mind coming for a beer with me?" His voice was quiet, almost fearful as his older brother stared upon him. He made a point to look away, diverting his pained eyes as though they would give away everything that was on his mind.
Jeremy accepted his daughter, shrugging his shoulders as he did so, "yeah, sure." He murmured, as he was not one to turn down a cold drink. Besides, his brother was clearly bursting to tell him something, likely something that he deemed important. He's probably going to tell me he's gay... Like I've not realized it already. He scoffed inwardly before making his way inside his home, where he dropped off his youngest child and informed his wife of his plans. Upon his exit, he did not notice the worried young woman appearing in the window, gazing harshly at his brother as though warning him to stay his tongue.
Gabriel saw this, and swallowed a hard lump in his throat, turning his dark eyes down the street as he waited for his brother to reach him. When the two young men were reunited, they started down the street together, a silence between them unlike any they had ever felt before. Gabriel was simply pathetic looking, as though he were beating himself up on the inside.
Jeremy recognized this look. He knew his brother well, and why wouldn't he after having lived with the man for the better part of his life. He stared intently at Gabriel, hoping to gain his attention and have him spill his guts without further probing, but the man's eyes were downcast, and he was lost in some realm of thought. The older brother rolled his eyes, eventually extending an arm to lightly punch the other in the shoulder. "Something on your mind?" He asked, once he held his brother's attention.
Peering through his glasses, rather pitifully, Gabriel gave his head a single, firm nod. His throat became dry as the inevitable 'what' followed his brother's first question. "I..." His voice faltered, and for a moment he felt as though his awkward puberty voice had returned to him. He rose a hand to his throat, clearing it rather loudly. "I did something bad, Jeremy," he finally admitted, his dark, sad eyes turning to the other man.
Jeremy snorted a laugh, raking his fingers through his own shaggy hair, "what? Accidentally close a door in someone's face?" He taunted, but his brother remained grim, and so his arrogant smirk slowly faded away. He grew quiet, clearly realizing how serious the situation must have been, that he could not even so much as make the usually care free man smile.
"Something terrible," he mumbled, feeling his blood run cold and palms growing clammy with fear and regret. "To someone very close to me..." He bit down upon his lip, wondering if his brother would eventually catch on if he kept dropping hints. However, Jeremy was just staring at him, in that way that he always did, silently demanding that he say more, or at least start making sense. Another burdened sigh escaped his body and his shoulder slouched with the exhale, his tall form slumping as he slowly came to a halt.
Jeremy was quickly growing impatient, he wasn’t entirely sure what his brother was getting at, but whatever it was it really didn’t sound good, and even if it wasn’t as bad as his brother was making it out to be, he’d have to smack the man for making him worry needlessly. “C’mon, spit it out, we’re not getting any younger here,” he slowly managed to say, his brows furrowed impatiently.
Gabriel’s heart was racing, telling him that he had to unveil a truth that he had been holding in for almost four years. His head argued that the consequences would probably break up the family and sever their bond of brotherhood, but alas, his heart, as per usual, won the battle, and before his brain could stop him his mouth began to run.
“Jeremy, when I was living with you...” His voice broke once more, but he forced himself to stay strong, “I... I... Slept with your wife while you were at work one day, and I...” His voice faltered completely at the look on his brother’s face. He could pinpoint the exact second that his brother’s heart broke. He tried to continue, but no words came out, only a soft whine like sound.
“Gabriel...” His breathing was heavy, laboured and distressed as he rose his hands to pull at his hair, “how could you? How could you do this to me? You know how much I love her... Why... Why would you seduce her? In my own fucking house?!” His hands fell to his side, and he swung one so fast and hard that Gabriel believe he was going to receive a punch in the face.
“I didn’t, Jer, she came onto me, I know that’s no excuse, but she was all over me, telling me- UGH!” Gabriel was correct, though his timing was off. His brother’s fist swung around, catching him in the upper lip. He recoiled slightly, taking a few steps back as he touched his throbbing face. He knew full well that he deserved it, in fact he had hoped he would feel better when his brother inevitably punched him, but he did not. The tears in Jeremy’s eyes could never console him, much less when he had caused it.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” he choked, breathing unevenly as he held his fist curled tightly at his side. He was oblivious to the neighbours peeking out their windows and craning over fences to see and hear what was going on. None of that mattered to him. A growl left his throat, “you traitor, I though we were family,” he lunged at his brother, and the two men fell to the ground amidst a flurry of grunting, swearing and flailing limbs.
There was a crunch as Gabriel’s glasses were broken, and as his brother briefly nursed his wounded hand the younger sibling managed to push him off and stumble to his own feet. His nose was bleeding, his lip swollen, and the broken frames of his glasses hung off of his face, with several shards of glass having lodged itself in his cheek. “Please, please listen to me, she told me it wasn’t the first time she cheated on you.” He coughed, sending a little blood across his bottom lip, “and I know you’ll hate me for what I did, and I wont blame you, but please don’t blame her...” He begged, becoming incoherent as he continued to ramble.
“Blame her? She fucking cheated on me with my own damn brother, she’ll be lucky if I don’t kick her sorry ass out on the street,” Jeremy growled, appearing rather brutish as he managed to make it to his own feet, with his shoulder slouched and his arms hanging straight down, as though they were filled with lead.
“No, not her,” Gabriel shook his head, taking another step back as he feared his brother’s reaction when he was to learn the worst of the news. He spat a bit of blood onto the side walk, shaking his head a little sadly, “Kylie... She isn’t yours Jer. She can’t be, since you had that surgery.” Of course, Gabriel was referring to a vasectomy, which his brother had undergone several months prior to the conception. If his brother was angry before, he looked about ready to murder Gabriel where he stood.
“Don’t... Don’t you dare say that!” He hissed, teeth gritting so tightly that they were hurting his jaw, not that any of that mattered to him, “don’t you ever say that. Eve told me... That it was... possible...” His voice trailed off as he realized that he had been deceived by his wife, clearly more than once. He shook his head in disbelief. Jeremy’s mind could not process everything, and so he was running through emotions at an insane pace. Sadness, anger, depression, confusion, rage. One moment he was sobbing, the next he was yelling. Another moment still he was begging that God let him wake up from the nightmare. When he finally collected enough of himself he managed to get to his feet, and started to stamp towards his home.
“Jeremy, where are you going?” He asked, trying to follow the man, whom whirled about and tried to punch him square in the nose. Luckily, Gabriel managed to dodge this one, and stumbled backwards to escape any further outbursts.
“Stay the hell away from me,” Jeremy yelled, shaking his head violently, “and stay the hell away from my family.” With this he turned, dragging himself towards his home, still an unstable mess that could barely keep himself on his feet.
Gabriel stood solemnly, watching the sad sight, with tears swelling in his eyes, and it was that sobering moment that the sky finally chose to break, and the rain began to pour, though Gabriel made no move to try to evade it as the sad reality had set in, that he had not only destroyed his brother’s life, but effectively removed the only family that he had left. His glasses finally fell from his face, landing on the pavement hard enough to devastate the rest of the frame. “I’m so sorry,” was all he managed to whisper as he simply stood there, gazing after his brother, even after he had long disappeared...
Slaye here, some of you know me, some don't, and I'm sure more still wished they didn't, but here I am, nevertheless.
Where've I been? No where, really. I'm a wandering merc that really doesn't belong anywhere anymore. What've I been doing? Working, mostly. I've been trying to do some solo writing, also, but I have serious commitment issues when it comes to stories...
For those that don't know me, I can be fairly sarcastic at times, and rather blunt. In fact I lack tact a lot of the time...
(That sounded more like a warning than a greeting. >>; )
So yeah. Hi.