Status: Completed Contest Entry
Decaying Memories
-Oneshot-
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“I’ll breathe you in. You are my oxygen alone.”
I recite the last of my vows, which Samantha and I had decided to take from each other’s favorite song and flash a smile at her. She smiles back.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” the pastor tells us. I lock my lips to Samantha’s and everyone in the pews cheer. She grabs my hand and we run out the church doors, and get into the limo, along with my brother, Lance, and Sam’s sister, Tamantha.
After-party time!
*At the after-party*
“Okay, how about some cake!?” Lance yells over the music. I nod at him and walk over to the DJ. I put my hand in a thumbs-down position and he turns the music off. I tell him that it’s cake time and he announces it into the microphone. I walk over to the humungous cake and wait for Samantha to join me.
“Samantha? Er… it’s time to cut the cake…?” DJ Roberts says into the microphone again.
Where is she?!
“Um.. I’ll go look for her…” I tell everyone. I walk out of the room, and walk down the hallways, desperately hoping to find Samantha had just had to go to the bathroom.
Boy, am I wrong.
I find her and another guy smooshed up together against the back wall at the end of the place. They don’t even notice me for a while. I clench my teeth and clear my throat.
“Oh, my God. Kasey. It’s not what it looks like.”
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“Way down deep in my lungs, I can hear our sweet decay.”
That incident was a year ago, and I am still not over it. I can’t even stay in a house by myself anymore. Everyone’s worried about me. Worried I’ll kill myself. So, I am staying with my brother, Lance.
“Kase, are you gonna sit there and look out the window all day?!” I hear Lance yell from his bedroom upstairs. I silently nod my head and continue staring out into the darkened nighttime drizzle. I wonder everyday what Samantha is doing and who she’s with, now that we’re done. I still have that ring. Have always had it.
“Kasey,” I hear Lance say from next to me now, “Get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”
I shake my head and walk upstairs. I enter my room. Midnight blue walls. I’m not daring enough to go with black. Shining in the moonlight, is that ring. Sitting on my dresser, surrounded by a razor blade, a shotgun, and cigarettes. Just in case. I tear my eyes from the dreaded memory, and collapse on my bed. I bury my head in the still-wet pillow. I cry at least three times each day. It’s gotten better along the way. Trust me.
I sigh and get up. I go over to my closet and look through my clothes for something presentable enough to wear other than the white t-shirt and Scooby-Doo pajama pants I have on. I find a pair of distressed dark blue jeans, a black v-neck top, a bright yellow hoodie, and a pair of turquoise Converse low-tops. I strip out of my pajamas and throw on my spiffier clothing. I walk sluggishly into the bathroom connected to my bedroom, and apply a touch of love to my long shaggy blonde hair. The little bit of love I have left, that is. She gave it all away when she was with that guy. When my hair is in a good enough condition, I walk back downstairs.
“Wow.” Lance says when he sees me.
I sniffle and push up my thick black-rimmed glasses further on the bridge of my nose. I don’t really feel like wearing my contacts today. I only wore them for her, anyway. Because she likes green eyes, and, naturally, I have blue eyes.
Lance holds the front door open for me, like the gentleman I could never be, and he always was. When we’re both walking towards the car, he runs in front of me to open the passenger door for me, too. I get in the silver Sedan and Lance shuts the door. He walks over to the driver’s seat and gets in. I stare out the window, wishing I was driving Samantha to a restaurant.
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“Everyone and everything feels like it slips away.”
Lance has brought me to some fancy velvet-tablecloth restaurant. The hostess, Mary I see on her nametag, seats us in a black leather booth and asks, “Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink this evening?”
“Yes, I’ll have a Diet Coke, please.” Lance tells the lady.
“Budweiser.” I say, blankly. She scurries off to grab our drinks and Lance starts looking at the menu she had given us. I stare at the candle burning on the table. That’s what my heart feels like right now.
“Here you go. Terrence will be out in a second.” the hostess says as she sets down our drinks, forcing me to tear my eyes away from the candle. Lance is staring at me now. I raise an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head at me.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Kasey.” he says, softly. I look down at the tablecloth. I’ve always known I’m a disappointment to my brother.
“Kill me,” I look back up at him and continue, “Kill me so I won’t have to be in pain anymore, Lance. Please. I’m begging.” Lance shakes his head, and leans over the table to me, and wipes my eye, which I now notice is leaking.
“I’m not killing you, Kase. We’re gonna get you through this.” Lance tells me. I nod at him.
No we’re not…
“Hello. I’m Terrence. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Can I interest you gentleman in some Garlic Bread, or an appetizer?”
I look up and to the right of me and I’m almost certain my heart stops beating. There, in my reach, is a guy, about my age, wearing a classic tuxedo and dress shoes, with the most perfect smile. He has black hair, like my brother, about shoulder length, but it’s in a ponytail at the back of his neck. He’s skinny, but not anorexic-skinny, like me. I can’t help but gawk.
“I’ll have the Spinach Alfredo.” Lance tells the angel. He writes it down in his little notepad, and then looks at me.
“And you, sir?” he asks me. I don’t answer, just keep staring. Why do I feel like this? I don’t love anyone. Besides, I’m not gay. I still want to kill myself, and plan to. No guy is going to stop that.
“I’m not hungry.” I mumble, looking back at the candle. I hear his footsteps as he walks away. Next thing I know, my hands are holding my cheek, having just been slapped by my brother.
“What the fuck, Lance!?” I yell at him.
“You need to straighten the hell up. You used to be the most hyper person I knew! Now you’re just some lame- ass emo.” he tells me. I glare at him and flip him off. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans back. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but God, I hate it when he’s right!
“I’m sorry.” I mumble. When I look back up at Lance, he’s basically in shock. Probably didn’t think I’d say sorry. I’m so unexpected.
*The drive home*
I need to go out. Somewhere. Anywhere. I need to get away from the house. I need to get away from her.
“So… I’m buying a plane ticket tonight.” I tell Lance, calmly.
He slams his foot on the brakes, causing me to smash my head against the dashboard.
“You’re doing what!?” he yells at me. I rub my forehead and repeat my sentence.
“No, you’re not. Then I’d have to come with you. And I’m not leaving Jersey! Wait, where would you go?” Lance asked me, driving again. I shrug. I haven’t really thought about that…
“Uh… New York? Maybe…” I say. Lance starts crying and leans over and hugs me, letting go of the steering wheel. We go of the road, slamming head-on into a big tree.
Glass everywhere, blood staining the car, and people crowding it, trying to get us out. I notice I’m not damaged too bad. But, Lance is. He is completely destroyed. I open the passenger door and step out, Lance in my arms. The car is totaled, as if that matters.
Someone who claims to be a doctor comes over to me and checks Lance’s pulse.
“I’m sorry, son.”
Something takes over me, (guilt? sadness?) and I set my brother on the ground and run back towards my brother’s house. I am going to grab that gun and…
“Kasey?”
Could it really be…?
“Samantha?” I say, and turn around.
I run over to the love of my life and wrap my arms around her waist. She draws back, though. I should’ve known.
“Hi Kasey. I want you to meet my husband. And my son, Jeffery.”
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“So spill my blood, midnight skies turn scarlet red.”
October 13th, 2009
Kasey James Lawrence passed away at 1:30 this morning in his sleep.
Authorities say Kasey combined several different drugs; an extremely dangerous concoction.
Right now, we’re calling it accidental.
The last person to talk to Kasey, Samantha Lillian Prescott, told officials, “I told him I was pregnant, and he stormed off. I got the call about three hours later.”
Kasey’s older brother, Lance Morris Lawrence, and Kasey got in an accident earlier that night, and Lance had no pulse. Witnesses say he ran off after the doctor told him that. Remarkably, Lance made an unexpected recovery, and is doing fine now.
Lance had something to say: “Kasey, your midnight skies are finally scarlet red. I hope your alright now. No more suffering, brother. Love you.”
A funeral will be held October 31st at Lance’s home in Trenton, New Jersey, at 12:00 midnight.
When asked why that date, Lance responded, “In honors to his dark side.”
R.I.P. Kasey James Lawrence
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
In loving memory of Casey Calvert of Hawthorne Heights. R.I.P. 1981-2007. You will always be remembered for your insane guitar skills, your mind-blowing screams, growls, whatever you wanna call them, etc. And whenever I pass a graveyard, I hear your muffled screams from Wake Up Call, Niki FM, Ohio is For Lovers, etc. We’ll always love you. You are missed terribly.
-Love always, Becca
“I’ll breathe you in. You are my oxygen alone.”
I recite the last of my vows, which Samantha and I had decided to take from each other’s favorite song and flash a smile at her. She smiles back.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” the pastor tells us. I lock my lips to Samantha’s and everyone in the pews cheer. She grabs my hand and we run out the church doors, and get into the limo, along with my brother, Lance, and Sam’s sister, Tamantha.
After-party time!
*At the after-party*
“Okay, how about some cake!?” Lance yells over the music. I nod at him and walk over to the DJ. I put my hand in a thumbs-down position and he turns the music off. I tell him that it’s cake time and he announces it into the microphone. I walk over to the humungous cake and wait for Samantha to join me.
“Samantha? Er… it’s time to cut the cake…?” DJ Roberts says into the microphone again.
Where is she?!
“Um.. I’ll go look for her…” I tell everyone. I walk out of the room, and walk down the hallways, desperately hoping to find Samantha had just had to go to the bathroom.
Boy, am I wrong.
I find her and another guy smooshed up together against the back wall at the end of the place. They don’t even notice me for a while. I clench my teeth and clear my throat.
“Oh, my God. Kasey. It’s not what it looks like.”
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“Way down deep in my lungs, I can hear our sweet decay.”
That incident was a year ago, and I am still not over it. I can’t even stay in a house by myself anymore. Everyone’s worried about me. Worried I’ll kill myself. So, I am staying with my brother, Lance.
“Kase, are you gonna sit there and look out the window all day?!” I hear Lance yell from his bedroom upstairs. I silently nod my head and continue staring out into the darkened nighttime drizzle. I wonder everyday what Samantha is doing and who she’s with, now that we’re done. I still have that ring. Have always had it.
“Kasey,” I hear Lance say from next to me now, “Get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”
I shake my head and walk upstairs. I enter my room. Midnight blue walls. I’m not daring enough to go with black. Shining in the moonlight, is that ring. Sitting on my dresser, surrounded by a razor blade, a shotgun, and cigarettes. Just in case. I tear my eyes from the dreaded memory, and collapse on my bed. I bury my head in the still-wet pillow. I cry at least three times each day. It’s gotten better along the way. Trust me.
I sigh and get up. I go over to my closet and look through my clothes for something presentable enough to wear other than the white t-shirt and Scooby-Doo pajama pants I have on. I find a pair of distressed dark blue jeans, a black v-neck top, a bright yellow hoodie, and a pair of turquoise Converse low-tops. I strip out of my pajamas and throw on my spiffier clothing. I walk sluggishly into the bathroom connected to my bedroom, and apply a touch of love to my long shaggy blonde hair. The little bit of love I have left, that is. She gave it all away when she was with that guy. When my hair is in a good enough condition, I walk back downstairs.
“Wow.” Lance says when he sees me.
I sniffle and push up my thick black-rimmed glasses further on the bridge of my nose. I don’t really feel like wearing my contacts today. I only wore them for her, anyway. Because she likes green eyes, and, naturally, I have blue eyes.
Lance holds the front door open for me, like the gentleman I could never be, and he always was. When we’re both walking towards the car, he runs in front of me to open the passenger door for me, too. I get in the silver Sedan and Lance shuts the door. He walks over to the driver’s seat and gets in. I stare out the window, wishing I was driving Samantha to a restaurant.
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“Everyone and everything feels like it slips away.”
Lance has brought me to some fancy velvet-tablecloth restaurant. The hostess, Mary I see on her nametag, seats us in a black leather booth and asks, “Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink this evening?”
“Yes, I’ll have a Diet Coke, please.” Lance tells the lady.
“Budweiser.” I say, blankly. She scurries off to grab our drinks and Lance starts looking at the menu she had given us. I stare at the candle burning on the table. That’s what my heart feels like right now.
“Here you go. Terrence will be out in a second.” the hostess says as she sets down our drinks, forcing me to tear my eyes away from the candle. Lance is staring at me now. I raise an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head at me.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Kasey.” he says, softly. I look down at the tablecloth. I’ve always known I’m a disappointment to my brother.
“Kill me,” I look back up at him and continue, “Kill me so I won’t have to be in pain anymore, Lance. Please. I’m begging.” Lance shakes his head, and leans over the table to me, and wipes my eye, which I now notice is leaking.
“I’m not killing you, Kase. We’re gonna get you through this.” Lance tells me. I nod at him.
No we’re not…
“Hello. I’m Terrence. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Can I interest you gentleman in some Garlic Bread, or an appetizer?”
I look up and to the right of me and I’m almost certain my heart stops beating. There, in my reach, is a guy, about my age, wearing a classic tuxedo and dress shoes, with the most perfect smile. He has black hair, like my brother, about shoulder length, but it’s in a ponytail at the back of his neck. He’s skinny, but not anorexic-skinny, like me. I can’t help but gawk.
“I’ll have the Spinach Alfredo.” Lance tells the angel. He writes it down in his little notepad, and then looks at me.
“And you, sir?” he asks me. I don’t answer, just keep staring. Why do I feel like this? I don’t love anyone. Besides, I’m not gay. I still want to kill myself, and plan to. No guy is going to stop that.
“I’m not hungry.” I mumble, looking back at the candle. I hear his footsteps as he walks away. Next thing I know, my hands are holding my cheek, having just been slapped by my brother.
“What the fuck, Lance!?” I yell at him.
“You need to straighten the hell up. You used to be the most hyper person I knew! Now you’re just some lame- ass emo.” he tells me. I glare at him and flip him off. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans back. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but God, I hate it when he’s right!
“I’m sorry.” I mumble. When I look back up at Lance, he’s basically in shock. Probably didn’t think I’d say sorry. I’m so unexpected.
*The drive home*
I need to go out. Somewhere. Anywhere. I need to get away from the house. I need to get away from her.
“So… I’m buying a plane ticket tonight.” I tell Lance, calmly.
He slams his foot on the brakes, causing me to smash my head against the dashboard.
“You’re doing what!?” he yells at me. I rub my forehead and repeat my sentence.
“No, you’re not. Then I’d have to come with you. And I’m not leaving Jersey! Wait, where would you go?” Lance asked me, driving again. I shrug. I haven’t really thought about that…
“Uh… New York? Maybe…” I say. Lance starts crying and leans over and hugs me, letting go of the steering wheel. We go of the road, slamming head-on into a big tree.
Glass everywhere, blood staining the car, and people crowding it, trying to get us out. I notice I’m not damaged too bad. But, Lance is. He is completely destroyed. I open the passenger door and step out, Lance in my arms. The car is totaled, as if that matters.
Someone who claims to be a doctor comes over to me and checks Lance’s pulse.
“I’m sorry, son.”
Something takes over me, (guilt? sadness?) and I set my brother on the ground and run back towards my brother’s house. I am going to grab that gun and…
“Kasey?”
Could it really be…?
“Samantha?” I say, and turn around.
I run over to the love of my life and wrap my arms around her waist. She draws back, though. I should’ve known.
“Hi Kasey. I want you to meet my husband. And my son, Jeffery.”
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
“So spill my blood, midnight skies turn scarlet red.”
October 13th, 2009
Kasey James Lawrence passed away at 1:30 this morning in his sleep.
Authorities say Kasey combined several different drugs; an extremely dangerous concoction.
Right now, we’re calling it accidental.
The last person to talk to Kasey, Samantha Lillian Prescott, told officials, “I told him I was pregnant, and he stormed off. I got the call about three hours later.”
Kasey’s older brother, Lance Morris Lawrence, and Kasey got in an accident earlier that night, and Lance had no pulse. Witnesses say he ran off after the doctor told him that. Remarkably, Lance made an unexpected recovery, and is doing fine now.
Lance had something to say: “Kasey, your midnight skies are finally scarlet red. I hope your alright now. No more suffering, brother. Love you.”
A funeral will be held October 31st at Lance’s home in Trenton, New Jersey, at 12:00 midnight.
When asked why that date, Lance responded, “In honors to his dark side.”
R.I.P. Kasey James Lawrence
.::..::..::..::..::..::.
In loving memory of Casey Calvert of Hawthorne Heights. R.I.P. 1981-2007. You will always be remembered for your insane guitar skills, your mind-blowing screams, growls, whatever you wanna call them, etc. And whenever I pass a graveyard, I hear your muffled screams from Wake Up Call, Niki FM, Ohio is For Lovers, etc. We’ll always love you. You are missed terribly.
-Love always, Becca
♠ ♠ ♠
Hope you enjoyed. <3 Casey Calvert <3