Status: Frozen.
Crying Skies, Lonely Nights
Chapter 1- And the rain left off
A boy with brown messy and spiky hair and round black eyes, filled with coldness, stared at me. That one was me. I grabbed my old, broken music player and, with a quick jump I got out of bed and walked trough the bedroom, full of other boys sleeping in small beds like mine.
“So here goes emotionless boy again. What are you going to do in the middle of the night? Maybe you’re going to hang yourself? That’d be awesome, just don’t do it here and write a note saying you killed yourself so that they don’t come to interrogate us and stuff like that, kay? Thanks, good night. Oh by the way, have fun.” said one of the boys, still laying down in bed, completely covered in the blanket.
From the voice and the sarcasm it was obvious who it was.
“Once I do it I’ll take you with me, buddy, don’t worry. If I can’t do it, I’ll be sure to write with my own blood your name, I promise.” I answered with no emotion transparent in my voice.
“Do that and you’ll be dead, pal, real dead.” he threatened me.
“He’s going to kill me after I kill myself. He’s a real genius.” I thought to myself.
I walked my way out of the room, taking special care not to wake anyone else up. I moved through the hall, silently, towards the exit. I turned the handle slowly, and walked out of the orphanage.
I crossed the street, serenely. The rain washed the streets, and carried the litter to the sewer openings. The few people that were on the street ran to their houses, while holding umbrellas in their hands and glaring at me, a weird boy with a music player and no umbrella at all.
A music player long broken, which was now a simple memory of rough times.
I walked trough the alleyways, like I always did. But now, it wasn’t just another walk. I was leaving the orphanage never to come back again.
Under the alleyway’s red lights, it seemed like it was raining blood, like a premonition to the tragedies that would happen later, or a simple coincidence.
I walked and walked through these familiar streets, the memories of what was once a happy time filling my mind up.
I reached a small building, with old, rusty stairs attached to under the windows. I looked to the third floor’s window and saw my house, just the way it was. Good, old nostalgia. And it was there that everything started, 4 years ago.
I looked at the window again, and saw a beautiful woman, with black, long hair and green almond eyes, staring at a picture, with tears rolling across her face. And like a reminder of the tragedy, we both had scars, mine on my left arm and hers on her forehead.
My mother was looking at a picture of us 3, me, my mother and my father.
“So here goes emotionless boy again. What are you going to do in the middle of the night? Maybe you’re going to hang yourself? That’d be awesome, just don’t do it here and write a note saying you killed yourself so that they don’t come to interrogate us and stuff like that, kay? Thanks, good night. Oh by the way, have fun.” said one of the boys, still laying down in bed, completely covered in the blanket.
From the voice and the sarcasm it was obvious who it was.
“Once I do it I’ll take you with me, buddy, don’t worry. If I can’t do it, I’ll be sure to write with my own blood your name, I promise.” I answered with no emotion transparent in my voice.
“Do that and you’ll be dead, pal, real dead.” he threatened me.
“He’s going to kill me after I kill myself. He’s a real genius.” I thought to myself.
I walked my way out of the room, taking special care not to wake anyone else up. I moved through the hall, silently, towards the exit. I turned the handle slowly, and walked out of the orphanage.
I crossed the street, serenely. The rain washed the streets, and carried the litter to the sewer openings. The few people that were on the street ran to their houses, while holding umbrellas in their hands and glaring at me, a weird boy with a music player and no umbrella at all.
A music player long broken, which was now a simple memory of rough times.
I walked trough the alleyways, like I always did. But now, it wasn’t just another walk. I was leaving the orphanage never to come back again.
Under the alleyway’s red lights, it seemed like it was raining blood, like a premonition to the tragedies that would happen later, or a simple coincidence.
I walked and walked through these familiar streets, the memories of what was once a happy time filling my mind up.
I reached a small building, with old, rusty stairs attached to under the windows. I looked to the third floor’s window and saw my house, just the way it was. Good, old nostalgia. And it was there that everything started, 4 years ago.
I looked at the window again, and saw a beautiful woman, with black, long hair and green almond eyes, staring at a picture, with tears rolling across her face. And like a reminder of the tragedy, we both had scars, mine on my left arm and hers on her forehead.
My mother was looking at a picture of us 3, me, my mother and my father.
♠ ♠ ♠
This chapter is nothing special, just shows more stuff about D and his past, and prepares the story to enter a series of flashbacks. Note that this title is also an allusion to a song, if I'm not mistaken. I like doing allusions to songs, I guess.