#gingerforest

[clvbbvx]

i am the ceo of gingerforest

[laufeydottir-one-blog]

you are all peasants

[midgardianprince]

CHANGED THE PRONOUNS BECAUSE LIAM AND GINGER KAY? KAY. 

[midgardianprince]

alone

He fumbled with the cell phone, barely able to see it through blurring vision. It fell on the carpeted floor and he let out a laugh that ended in a half sob. "Fuck." He mumbled and stopped his frantic movement for the phone. "Stop. Stop..." Liam murmured to himself running both trembling hands through his jet black hair. He stayed liked that for a moment, his hands atop his head. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. He hasn't been doing a good job of that lately, and tonight he was nowhere near capable of being by himself. He was going to end up doing something stupid and he had done enough stupid things already. Slowly, he opened his eyes to drop his gaze down to the phone on the ground.

Lowering himself to the ground he picked up the device and sat down on the bed right next to it. With one sleeve he wiped his face of moisture, sniffing quietly. He felt stupid and ridiculous and utterly weak. The sound of his fath--of Owen's ridiculing voice was in his ears repeating deprecating words over and over. He heard the sounds of the many anonymous voices that had whispered words in his eat. His head was swimming. His thumb scrolled down mindlessly, pausing for several seconds on Loki's pseudonym before scrolling further down to Ginger's. He slid the touch screen over to start the call and cleared his throat a few times before he heard her pick up.

"Hey..." He paused. "Uh, would you mind if I...came over?" Liam wiped one hand on his jeans, blue-green eyes staring up at the ceiling. "I...I don't think this whole staying by myself thing is...working out too well."

[midgardianprince]

too late @gingerforest

I promised you a lot of things, like how our lives would get better and how we’d both be happy. We sat in those hotel rooms together dreaming of a better life. I didn’t lie. I just didn’t see it for me. I see it for you, always have. I know you’ll amount to something because you’re a strong person, even if you don’t believe it. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you, I’m sorry I’m too weak. I just can’t do this anymore. Everything gets to be too much. I don’t want to think about the drugs. I don’t want to hear another person’s voice in my head. I don’t want to feel other people’s emotions. Mine are enough. I don’t want to wake up at night screaming from another nightmare.

I’m so tired.

I can’t find a reason to keep on living. All I ever do is ruin other people’s lives with my problems. You might not think so, but it’s the truth and I know it. Someone threatened to kill you because of my stupidity, and I don’t want that to happen again. It’s better for everyone if I’m not around anymore to cause problems. You were the best thing in my life, you helped me survive when I was barely surviving. You’re the reason I made it even this far. I’m sorry I can’t keep going with you. But everything’s become too much and I can’t handle it anymore. I feel like everything is just weighing down on my shoulders or squeezing my skull. I feel sick all the time, and it doesn’t look like its ever going to stop. I want to tell myself that everything is okay. I want to believe that everything is okay, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to. 

I’m sorry. 

[midgardianprince]

And then I Fell Apart

 It had taken three weeks before he was able to leave the psych ward the hospital had forced him into. The accident that caused the stay was not worth speaking about and he had been under suicide watch for a lengthy amount of time. He had been spoken to by a psychiatrist several times, but eventually he had simply forced her hand. It was easy enough to suggest that she say he was stable enough to leave the ward. Liam was tired of being in the overly sterilized room, tired of being watched by doctors, tired of having to deal with fake smiles. He made sure they didn’t make a fuss about him leaving alone. It was the first time in a long time that he was glad for his telepathy. They still stuck him with a prescription for anti-depressants before he managed to leave, but as soon as he was outside the doors of the hospital he felt a little better. Not by much, but it was something.

For a while he wandered about, a slight limp to his step that the doctor’s said would eventually go away. He’d been in the damn hospital too long though for the bone to have mended and Liam wondered when the last time he’d slept was. There was something nagging at him in the back of his mind, much like the persistent ache in his skull that still hadn’t gone away. He was in a numb haze, exhaustion and weariness clinging to him like death. He thought about going home, back to the apartment waiting for him, but he didn’t as the numbness slowly seeped out of him and everything he had pushed to the back of his mind hit him like a freight train. He sent a simple text message to the only two people that mattered.

Out of the hospital. Not heading back home. See you in a few days.

It was irresponsible. He didn’t know why he didn’t just head back home. He didn’t know why he went into the first hotel he saw and booked a room for a night. Liam simply took the key, and made his way to the room he had been given. It took several steps to the bed for him to drop into it and scream obscenities into the pillow before the wracking sobs shook him like a leaf in the wind. Even then, when he had spent all his tears and felt as if he could pass on into oblivion, sleep would not come. He was afraid of the nightmares that would come, and even a few minutes of sleep had him jerking awake. Slowly, he rose from the bed and made his way to the small bathroom.

The reflection staring back at him had seen better days. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this badly, or this low. Blue green eyes stared out of the mirror at him and he shut them briefly, tears running rivulets down his cheeks. Fingers curled around the porcelain sink as he swayed, exhaustion catching up to him but he couldn’t sleep. His eyes hurt from staying awake so long and all he wanted was to close them and never wake up again.

There’s no point.

There was never any point.

Someone, somewhere in the expanse of the universe had made it so his life was perpetual and everlasting. No matter how many times he died, he would revive again and now he would remember. He remembered flashes of events that had happened before, things he shouldn’t know. His head ached as if a hammer was beating against his skull. There was a scream bubbling up in his throat, ready to be released and he pressed his fist against his mouth. Teeth bit into flesh until he tasted blood on his knuckles.

He splashed water on his face with trembling hands, and it was then that he noticed his entire body was shaking and he swayed on his feet. At some point, he’d ordered liquor, and wanting to be stupid he opened up the bottle of pills he’d been given at the hospital and swallowed a few with the alcohol. By the time the phone was in his hand, his vision was blurry and he was a sobbing, shaking mess. He knew he was missing the keys each time he sent a message, but he didn’t care. He thought about calling, because it would be nice to hear his brother’s voice, but he thought better of it, ended the conversation and finally passed out on the bed.

[midgardianprince]

Headcanon 018

And they scream the worst things in live come free to us, cause we're just under the upperhand. And go mad for a couple grams. 

                The carpet beneath him was rough but till better than a piece of cardboard laid over hard concrete. He could have risen from his place to lie on the semi-clean sheets of the motel bed, but he didn’t want to get up. The ceiling was an off white, faint outlines of cracks showing beneath the coat of paint used to cover it up. He had been lying on the floor staring at the ceiling for too long not to notice now. He didn’t know how many minutes had ticked by since he had dropped himself there on the floor, but he knew it had been too long. He knew he should get up off the floor and do something. There had to be something he needed to do, he knew there was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Perhaps he could stay there until he died; it wasn’t as if he ever felt hungry anymore. He could easily starve himself to death, surely. It couldn’t be that bad. It couldn’t be as bad as drifting on city streets with nowhere to go and no one to go to.

 He wondered if Theo thought of him at all, or if he had already forgotten him. Two years wasn’t so long a time, but it was long enough. Liam had found himself thinking of his brother a lot lately. He found himself thinking of the house in Queens, with the brown metal fence protecting it from intruders. He could imagine it in his mind’s eye: the thin strip of cobblestone leading up to the red porch, the wooden door opening to a mesh one just behind it. Inside the smell of Shepherd’s Pie would waft out from the kitchen, and mother would be smiling at him “your father’s not home yet”. Theo would be setting up the dining room table for three because that night father would be working late at the corporate office he owned. Mother would bring in dinner and Liam would listen as she waxed on about the new house father was soon buying in upstate New York. Theo would go into detail about school and whatever it was he had done that day while Liam quietly finished his meal without saying a word. He just liked to listen to the sound of his brother’s and mother’s voice without his father there to reprimand him for sitting at the table.

Liam shut his eyes, the memory almost tangible until he opened them again to the white ceiling of the motel room. His eyes stung and he took in a slow, shuddering breath. It was obviously time for another hit if he was thinking of such stupid things. But he didn’t want to move. It was too much of a hassle to get up and retrieve his syringes from the backpack. Faintly he recalled promising he wouldn’t shoot up, but he’d failed quite miserably at that. Slowly his mind brought up the image of a young woman with brown hair and he frowned, nodding to himself. Right, he had promised Ginger, but he’d forgotten and now it didn’t matter because he had already done it. The high was fading though, which meant another chance to try again but it was so hard. Life was shit with it, how would life be without it?

He heard the sound of the motel room door click and open. Liam turned his head lethargically to stare at a pair of feet. There was a very soft sigh, it sounded disappointed, so he shifted himself slightly to look up at the newcomer’s face. A lazy grin spread across his features. She was dripping rain water all over the carpet as she pulled off her jacket and shook out her hair. Again he thought he might need to get up, but slowly the smile faded because she didn’t seem too happy with him. He had to remember that happiness was fleeting in this life, that there were no smiles, and it was just a bunch of anonymous faces. His eyes were stinging again so he returned their gaze back on the ceiling where everything seemed so much simpler. The white could suck him in and pull him away. He would barely notice his body wasting away on the floor and no one would care.

“You’ve been laying there all day.” The voice came in through his haze, but he didn’t give any indication that he heard. She would leave him eventually, one day, everyone did one way or another. Either she would die like the rest, or just leave him. Bailey, Alex and Daniel were gone so why wouldn’t she go with the rest? 

“I got us food.” Ginger’s voice cut through the depressing thoughts and he glanced over. Sighing, he finally sat up, bones protesting as he did so. The springs creaked when a body fell on them and Liam pulled himself to his feet to lay down next to her.

“What did you get?” He asked finally, once again staring blankly at the white ceiling as if it had all the answers in the world. His voice came out hoarse, sounding rough like sand paper.

“You know. Same shit.” She responded with a shrug, the movement bumping against his shoulder. “You’re too skinny.”

“Never hungry, food just makes me nauseous. You know that.” His mouth felt dry. He ripped his gaze from the ceiling, turning his head to look at her. “Did you get any bubbly?”

“Cheap booze.”

“Better than nothing.” He shrugged, and the two of the lapsed into silence, once again staring at ceiling. She didn’t say anything, so he figured she must have discovered the same odd fascination with the old paint as he did. He could lose himself in the white and maybe she could too. Maybe, in the morning, the cleaning woman would find their dead carcasses laying atop the mattress, their souls having been sucked into the white of ceiling.

It was ludicrous, of course, but Liam thought that if their souls could become angels, then he didn’t care. They deserved to be angels after all of this, didn’t they? Except that those so utterly drenched in sin would go to hell, or at least he figured that much. Selling one’s body to others for their entertainment was wrong. Liam figured those who had never been forced into this way of life would never understand it. He didn’t care to explain it either.

“Do you ever think we’ll get out of this?” Liam asked, suddenly, breaking the silence. For a while, there was no response. It was as if the two of them were thinking the same thing: that the situation was hopeless, and they were going to be like this forever.

“Maybe. Someday.” She paused. “We will. You and me, always.”

Liam swallowed thickly, nodding but not looking over.

“Yeah. Always.”

[midgardianprince]