Demented Lust
Rising up, 3 in the morn'
A pain rose in his chest, forcing him to wake up.
It thudded within him, almost steadily enough to bring him back to sleep, but then it sharpened. His blue eyes opened and reached out into the darkness and screamed for him as blood began to seep onto his shirt. Speed's scar had torn again, and it hadn’t even been 2 months since the last time.
It was painful, no doubt, but he knew it would be more painful if he didn’t treat it now. Yet he was slow to react, because he was still in his dream. And he was still in his dream when he pried himself unto a sitting position. And he was still in his dream as he inched toward the bathroom; it pretty much was glazing over his vision, and was the only thing he could see when he stared through to the dark mirror.
It was nothing too extraordinary. A grimy little boy- And by grimy, I don’t mean filthy, because he was pretty hygienic for his age. But somehow something weighed him down, and welded itself to his skin- who wore a cheeky smile held the hand of a little girl, who was more than happy to be talking to him.
Speed turned on the water, trying to shake it from his mind, and scooped his hands under the faucet to wash his face.
“Ah!” he gasped; he had turned on the hot water by accident. Speed heard some sheets ruffling. And fearfully turned around, staring back out of the bathroom at Conner’s bed.
“..Speed?” He groaned. God damn it, Why was he SUCH a light sleeper? Speed turned around, paranoid that Conner would see any blood stains that he may have, and waved over its shoulder,
“Go back to sleep, Conner.”
“Ugh, It’s only 3:53! What on earth are you even doing up? It’s usually like winning the War of the Ring just to get you to move in the morning…” He whispered exhaustingly, thankfully he didn’t sound concerned. Speed took a breath before responding.
“I just had to pee, and stubbed my toe and the way ov--”
“Well keep the light off when you go!” Conner interrupted him and turned over in his bed. Speed sighed and shut the door behind him. He hated lying, he never lied. But he had to about this. It would do no one any good to know about the scars that stuck to him.
Speed opened the cabinet under the sink, and reached for the shoebox in the very back. Inside it where a Suture Kit, a bottle of Peroxide, some Gauge Bandages, and a rag to bite down on. He took off his shirt and was glad to see there wasn’t as much blood as usual.
This scar is such a heavy burden: A bad memory, a danger to his health, a secret that ate at him. Speed looked down at his wrist, or well really he was looking at what tied to it. A purple Shoelace that he never took off, looking at it he smiled.
It was her, the girl who gave him it, that made it all worth it. And it was her that he could smile through the stitching for.
It thudded within him, almost steadily enough to bring him back to sleep, but then it sharpened. His blue eyes opened and reached out into the darkness and screamed for him as blood began to seep onto his shirt. Speed's scar had torn again, and it hadn’t even been 2 months since the last time.
It was painful, no doubt, but he knew it would be more painful if he didn’t treat it now. Yet he was slow to react, because he was still in his dream. And he was still in his dream when he pried himself unto a sitting position. And he was still in his dream as he inched toward the bathroom; it pretty much was glazing over his vision, and was the only thing he could see when he stared through to the dark mirror.
It was nothing too extraordinary. A grimy little boy- And by grimy, I don’t mean filthy, because he was pretty hygienic for his age. But somehow something weighed him down, and welded itself to his skin- who wore a cheeky smile held the hand of a little girl, who was more than happy to be talking to him.
Speed turned on the water, trying to shake it from his mind, and scooped his hands under the faucet to wash his face.
“Ah!” he gasped; he had turned on the hot water by accident. Speed heard some sheets ruffling. And fearfully turned around, staring back out of the bathroom at Conner’s bed.
“..Speed?” He groaned. God damn it, Why was he SUCH a light sleeper? Speed turned around, paranoid that Conner would see any blood stains that he may have, and waved over its shoulder,
“Go back to sleep, Conner.”
“Ugh, It’s only 3:53! What on earth are you even doing up? It’s usually like winning the War of the Ring just to get you to move in the morning…” He whispered exhaustingly, thankfully he didn’t sound concerned. Speed took a breath before responding.
“I just had to pee, and stubbed my toe and the way ov--”
“Well keep the light off when you go!” Conner interrupted him and turned over in his bed. Speed sighed and shut the door behind him. He hated lying, he never lied. But he had to about this. It would do no one any good to know about the scars that stuck to him.
Speed opened the cabinet under the sink, and reached for the shoebox in the very back. Inside it where a Suture Kit, a bottle of Peroxide, some Gauge Bandages, and a rag to bite down on. He took off his shirt and was glad to see there wasn’t as much blood as usual.
This scar is such a heavy burden: A bad memory, a danger to his health, a secret that ate at him. Speed looked down at his wrist, or well really he was looking at what tied to it. A purple Shoelace that he never took off, looking at it he smiled.
It was her, the girl who gave him it, that made it all worth it. And it was her that he could smile through the stitching for.
♠ ♠ ♠
What do you think? Kitbunny has her own version to the chapter, but she has no intro. The reason being I needed to introduce speed and it didn't go with the rest of the chapter. So i just split it :P