I Never Meant to Be so Cliche
Don't Think, Just Do
I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. My arms burned with every movement, and my head didn't let up that much.
This was a lot to take in, for anyone. I had seen my fair share of freaky, abnormal, crazy, but this doesn't even begin to describe it. But, it wasn't weird to them. This was normal. People with magic, super strength, mind powers, even thirst for other's blood wasn't strange to them. Their normal would never be my normal. It couldn't. This wasn't right. Things like this shouldn't happen.
Closing my eyes, I leaned into the leather covered comfort. Maybe this was a dream, a long, complicated dream. My subconscious was trying to get me to deal with a bunch of issues at one time, so it created this world.
I knew that wasn't true. In dreams, you don't have pain. You don't have confusion. And, you certainly don't have your fears come to life. Dreams were supposed to be happy, where you found love, and life. I wasn't finding this. I was finding death.
Death didn't seem that bad right about now, but I wasn't allowed to die. I had to survive, for Ronnie, for this rebellion, for something I didn't know about.
The creaking sound of the door opening flooded my ears. I lifted my head to see Ronnie walking back into the warehouse with a plastic bag in his hand. I never used plastic bags. I didn't like them. I once saw a video about how it suffocated a seal. From then on, I brought my own. Things needed to have a chance at survival, just a chance, and I didn't want to be the one to take it away from them.
I don't think Ronnie had that fear. He seemed like he had already ruined people's chance at a life. He was the type to ruin things. Whatever he was wasn't something that made chances. He took them away. It wasn't a comforting thought, but it wasn't all that bad. The sooner he took my chances away the sooner I wouldn't have to live this twisted life anymore. That's the only thought that made me happy through this. That there was a larger chance at death now. Death didn't seem that bad to me.
"I brought some medicine for your arms." He stated, sitting next to me on the couch.
I didn't bother a reply. If I told him I didn't need it, he would call me a liar and give it to me anyways. I knew I needed it. My arms were a fucking mess. Scratches lined them up and down. Some deeper than others, but all of them looked deathly.
He grabbed one of my arms and started to undo the wrappings on it. I grimaced as the cuts came into sights. They were bad from the start. I knew that, but facing your own mortality wasn't a fun experience.
"This might hurt a little." He simply said before spraying the lifesaving poison on my skin.
I hissed but otherwise did nothing to show my discomfort. The widespread sting subsided after a moment or two. The bandages were replaced after that.
The other arm was just as bad, but again, it subsided quickly.
"You'd be lucky if those don't scar any. They're pretty deep." Ronnie said while wrapping my arm. "Although, it wouldn't be the first time you have done something that we can't understand."
Once he released my arm I could reply. I want some answers. I signed. It was straightforward, simple. Confusion wouldn't help me right now. It would just add to my pure fury at this situation. I wanted answers, so I could fix whatever this was and go home. I just wanted to go home, even the empty home that I have.
"I can only give you so many. You have to remember for yourself. I told you that already." He replied.
What am I remembering? Monsters? Creatures that kill? The Master? You? I asked already frustrated with this situation.
"Yes." He said.
I looked over at him with a look of pure anger. What?
"That's exactly what you are supposed to remember. You need to remember the monsters, and who the Master is, and you need to remember who I am." He explained.
I know who you are. You are Ronnie Radke, the bad ass of the school that always gets in trouble. You smoke on the school property when you aren't supposed to, and you almost always skip classes that I have with you. I know who you are.
He smiled slightly. "As great as it is that you notice me in this life, it isn't the one we are talking about. I was something before this, and so were you. You have to remember that Ronnie first."
I ran my hands over my face. You are making no sense.
"I know. Let me ask you something though. When I asked what your first memory was, why did you say that one? Why didn't you say something that you actually remember?" He asked.
Because that is my first memory! It doesn't make sense to me, but I know with every fiber of my being that when you asked me that, that was the answer.
"Exactly. I didn't give you time to think. You just had to answer. You need to stop thinking about it. You just need to remember." He said.
I can't just not think. That's not how it works. My frustration level was raising very quickly. This was a situation that didn't make sense to me.
"That's exactly how it is supposed to work. Just answer some questions and see what happens. Don't think about it, just answer." He suggested. I looked over at him, and he had a hopeful look in his brown eyes. This was his only chance it seemed. He needed this. I needed this. If this was the only way to get answers, than I had to do it. I didn't want to be stuck in the abyss of not knowing. I didn't want this cloud to be over my head anymore.
I nodded my head, and he smiled slightly.
"When were you born?" He asked. I sighed. "Don't think about it." He commanded.
December 15th, 1892. I replied. I blinked a couple of times. This was something else entirely.
Ronnie didn't give me a chance to attempt to think over what I just said. "How many siblings do you have?"
One, an older brother.
"When did he die?"
October 19th, 1923.
"How did he die?"
He was stabbed in a mugging when he moved to New York.
"Are you adopted?"
Yes, my parents found me on the doorstep of the church and raised me as their own.
"Who was your best friend?"
I didn't start having friends until I was 18, but that's when I met a kid named Monte Money.
"Was he human?"
No, he was a mimic monster.
"What are mimic monsters?"
A monster that can mimic noises which can cause people to do terrible things thinking the idea was from someone they know.
"Is he still alive?"
No, he died after he turned 67 when the Master killed him in 1935.
"Who's the Master?"
The leader of the dark world.
"Do you like him?"
No, he is cruel and isn't a good leader. He kills his people for doing nothing more than disobeying an order, and he needs to be stopped.
"Who's going to stop him?"
The rebellion.
"When did the rebellion start?"
1987
"Who started it?"
Me and the Master's brother.
"Does he know?"
Of course not, he's too dense to believe his brother would ever betray him.
"Who is his brother?"
You
"And who am I?"
My savior.
"What else?"
My companion.
"What kind of companion?"
The romantic kind.
"You have your answers, Max." He said.
I swear my heart stopped.
This was a lot to take in, for anyone. I had seen my fair share of freaky, abnormal, crazy, but this doesn't even begin to describe it. But, it wasn't weird to them. This was normal. People with magic, super strength, mind powers, even thirst for other's blood wasn't strange to them. Their normal would never be my normal. It couldn't. This wasn't right. Things like this shouldn't happen.
Closing my eyes, I leaned into the leather covered comfort. Maybe this was a dream, a long, complicated dream. My subconscious was trying to get me to deal with a bunch of issues at one time, so it created this world.
I knew that wasn't true. In dreams, you don't have pain. You don't have confusion. And, you certainly don't have your fears come to life. Dreams were supposed to be happy, where you found love, and life. I wasn't finding this. I was finding death.
Death didn't seem that bad right about now, but I wasn't allowed to die. I had to survive, for Ronnie, for this rebellion, for something I didn't know about.
The creaking sound of the door opening flooded my ears. I lifted my head to see Ronnie walking back into the warehouse with a plastic bag in his hand. I never used plastic bags. I didn't like them. I once saw a video about how it suffocated a seal. From then on, I brought my own. Things needed to have a chance at survival, just a chance, and I didn't want to be the one to take it away from them.
I don't think Ronnie had that fear. He seemed like he had already ruined people's chance at a life. He was the type to ruin things. Whatever he was wasn't something that made chances. He took them away. It wasn't a comforting thought, but it wasn't all that bad. The sooner he took my chances away the sooner I wouldn't have to live this twisted life anymore. That's the only thought that made me happy through this. That there was a larger chance at death now. Death didn't seem that bad to me.
"I brought some medicine for your arms." He stated, sitting next to me on the couch.
I didn't bother a reply. If I told him I didn't need it, he would call me a liar and give it to me anyways. I knew I needed it. My arms were a fucking mess. Scratches lined them up and down. Some deeper than others, but all of them looked deathly.
He grabbed one of my arms and started to undo the wrappings on it. I grimaced as the cuts came into sights. They were bad from the start. I knew that, but facing your own mortality wasn't a fun experience.
"This might hurt a little." He simply said before spraying the lifesaving poison on my skin.
I hissed but otherwise did nothing to show my discomfort. The widespread sting subsided after a moment or two. The bandages were replaced after that.
The other arm was just as bad, but again, it subsided quickly.
"You'd be lucky if those don't scar any. They're pretty deep." Ronnie said while wrapping my arm. "Although, it wouldn't be the first time you have done something that we can't understand."
Once he released my arm I could reply. I want some answers. I signed. It was straightforward, simple. Confusion wouldn't help me right now. It would just add to my pure fury at this situation. I wanted answers, so I could fix whatever this was and go home. I just wanted to go home, even the empty home that I have.
"I can only give you so many. You have to remember for yourself. I told you that already." He replied.
What am I remembering? Monsters? Creatures that kill? The Master? You? I asked already frustrated with this situation.
"Yes." He said.
I looked over at him with a look of pure anger. What?
"That's exactly what you are supposed to remember. You need to remember the monsters, and who the Master is, and you need to remember who I am." He explained.
I know who you are. You are Ronnie Radke, the bad ass of the school that always gets in trouble. You smoke on the school property when you aren't supposed to, and you almost always skip classes that I have with you. I know who you are.
He smiled slightly. "As great as it is that you notice me in this life, it isn't the one we are talking about. I was something before this, and so were you. You have to remember that Ronnie first."
I ran my hands over my face. You are making no sense.
"I know. Let me ask you something though. When I asked what your first memory was, why did you say that one? Why didn't you say something that you actually remember?" He asked.
Because that is my first memory! It doesn't make sense to me, but I know with every fiber of my being that when you asked me that, that was the answer.
"Exactly. I didn't give you time to think. You just had to answer. You need to stop thinking about it. You just need to remember." He said.
I can't just not think. That's not how it works. My frustration level was raising very quickly. This was a situation that didn't make sense to me.
"That's exactly how it is supposed to work. Just answer some questions and see what happens. Don't think about it, just answer." He suggested. I looked over at him, and he had a hopeful look in his brown eyes. This was his only chance it seemed. He needed this. I needed this. If this was the only way to get answers, than I had to do it. I didn't want to be stuck in the abyss of not knowing. I didn't want this cloud to be over my head anymore.
I nodded my head, and he smiled slightly.
"When were you born?" He asked. I sighed. "Don't think about it." He commanded.
December 15th, 1892. I replied. I blinked a couple of times. This was something else entirely.
Ronnie didn't give me a chance to attempt to think over what I just said. "How many siblings do you have?"
One, an older brother.
"When did he die?"
October 19th, 1923.
"How did he die?"
He was stabbed in a mugging when he moved to New York.
"Are you adopted?"
Yes, my parents found me on the doorstep of the church and raised me as their own.
"Who was your best friend?"
I didn't start having friends until I was 18, but that's when I met a kid named Monte Money.
"Was he human?"
No, he was a mimic monster.
"What are mimic monsters?"
A monster that can mimic noises which can cause people to do terrible things thinking the idea was from someone they know.
"Is he still alive?"
No, he died after he turned 67 when the Master killed him in 1935.
"Who's the Master?"
The leader of the dark world.
"Do you like him?"
No, he is cruel and isn't a good leader. He kills his people for doing nothing more than disobeying an order, and he needs to be stopped.
"Who's going to stop him?"
The rebellion.
"When did the rebellion start?"
1987
"Who started it?"
Me and the Master's brother.
"Does he know?"
Of course not, he's too dense to believe his brother would ever betray him.
"Who is his brother?"
You
"And who am I?"
My savior.
"What else?"
My companion.
"What kind of companion?"
The romantic kind.
"You have your answers, Max." He said.
I swear my heart stopped.
♠ ♠ ♠
Kinda sucky, so I apologize