#private; closed

[tommosyko]

Let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once | Task 003 (I)

I want it to be different this year. I want to make a promise that I can actually keep and not just something that's expected of me.

What's a resolution again? Oli says it's a promise to do an act of self-improvement. That's odd. If I could improve myself, I would have by now. I would have done everything I can to make myself as close to perfect as I can by now, so there's no point in making a resolution for it.

But what if I resolved to do something more tangible than self-improvement?

I want to find my mum and my dad. I need physical proof that what I feel isn't wrong. It can't be wrong if there is no blood shared. I'll have to ask Oli's mum and dad about my birth parents. I don't remember much, but I remember a little bit of it. I remember how it hurt in the middle of the night.. I remember how it hard it would be to walk in the mornings... I remember the blood spotting the sheets that weren't ever really mine.. I remember the cigarette butts being pressed against my chest.. but that isn't my dad. That wasn't my father. I need to find my parents. I need to know them so that I can feel reassured about the rest of my life. It won't be self-improvement, I don't think. It would be more like life-improvement, and that's just as good, right? 2014 might even be the year that I follow through with my New Year's resolution.

There's.. there's another thing I want to do. I want to find him. I want to find the one who made me like this. I want to find the one who made me so weak, so pathetic. I want to find him and I want to hurt him. I want to kill him slowly. I want to torture him for what he did to me. I was only a kid and he.. he..

Even if I don't find my mum and dad, I have to find him. I have to find him and give him what he deserves. I have to find him and make sure he never makes a victim out of another little kid ever again.

[tommosyko]

[punkbden]

[punkbden]

[punkbden]

[punkbden]

Brendon angrily turned around and slammed his fist into the closest wall. A sick smile crossing his face when he heard the satisfying crunch of the bones in his hand. Then all at once he felt the pain, and he bent over at the waist, clutching his hand close to his body. After a moment or two he took a deep breath and stood up, the pain washing him over in a rare moment of clarity. He was in the wrong here. No one was to blame but himself.

Dallon was happy with someone that wasn't himself and he would just have to deal with that. The vocalist turned around and headed back to the bus that band members and guests shared. He quietly slipped on to it, still holding his hand as he made his way to his bunk. He pulled the curtain open with his left hand after a bit of difficulty and looked down at all of his stuff. This was it. This was all he had to show for his life. A tour bus with his face on the side and a duffel bag of his belongings. It was a sad thought indeed. 

The Vegas native held his broken hand close to his body and used his left hand to pack up everything in the bus that would be considered his. It was difficult, but after a while he did it, and once he had he picked up the bag and headed off the bus. He wasn't leaving the tour, no, of course not. This was his band and his dream. No one could take that away from him. Instead, he climbed onto the crew's bus without a word to anyone. They'd figure out where he was eventually.

He picked out a bunk that was away from the area the roadies generally spent time in, and threw in all of his stuff. He climbed in and closed the curtain, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He flexed his right hand so that he could feel the pain, hoping it would stop the tears from flowing down his face but it did nothing to falter them.

You did this to yourself. You deserve this. You had this coming. You killed your mom and now this is karma. He doesn't want you. You gave him all you had and he doesn't want you. Get over it. Dad didn't want you and neither does he. Ben wanted you, though. Oh, Ben. But he was too good for you. Someone actually wanted you, despite how fucked up you are and you ran away. You couldn't handle it.

But guess what, Brendon? Everyone leaves. You die alone, after all. There is no such thing as forever. Forever doesn't exist until you die. This is a labyrinth of great pain and suffering, after all. The only way out of it is straight and fast. Can you remember that, Brendon? Do it straight and fast and you can get out of this.

[punkbden]

[punkbden]