Status: Once a day.
The Thought of Kissing Razors.
Sullen.
It was quiet, too quiet.
Mike, and other two had gone out to explore the town, Vic had decided to stay behind so he could explore the house, and even get some writing done. Thoughts of last night were locked in his mind, and he couldn’t push them away.
They were consuming him, and he felt that maybe writing a song or two could take his mind off of what he saw last night.
After a hour of lying in bed, he sighed, and pushed the covers off of him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and pulled on his pair of black skinny jeans, and a random band shirt. Since he didn’t feel like straightening his hair, he pulled his beanie on to his head, and made sure it was secure before exiting the room.
Vic hummed a song under his breath as he walked down the quiet hallway, examining the pictures as his feet moved. There were some of families dating back to the 1800s, that he had inferred. The small Mexican had always been fascinated by history; it was the class he had excelled in when he was in high school, along with music.
After finally making his way down the first hallway, he saw a picture of the same boy again. He appeared to be standing with some girl his age, and Vic felt a spur of jealousy alight in his chest.
What the fuck Vic? He’s dead, and has been for years.
Vic shook his head; maybe he hadn't slept well enough last night.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and was about to make his way down the stairs when he heard a distant voice. It was soft, slightly high pitched, but definitely a male.
Vic froze, and glanced over his shoulder, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“I know you can here me..” The voice called, sounding amused.
“Who are you?” Vic questioned, eyes wide with terror. “Where are you?”
“I’m right beside you, but you can’t see me..you saw me the other night..”
“Are you the boy in that photograph?”
“Good guess.” The voice seemed to grow closer, and Vic felt himself back away involuntarily.
“Why can’t I see you? What’s your name? Am I hallucinating?” The small boy stuttered, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the entire situation.
A light chuckled sounded through the air, reminding Vic of soft bells. “You ask a lot of questions.” The voice paused. “Kellin, I’m Kellin, and no, you’re not hallucinating, I just haven’t shown myself to you yet.”
“O-Oh.” He stuttered again. Eyes scanning the room, locking on the figure that had appeared in front of him.
Vic gaped, staring at how beautiful the boy in front of him was, he blushed, causing the figure across from him to smirk.
“It’s finally nice to speak with you.” Kellin mused, smiling gently at Vic.
“Y-Yeah..uh..what do you want with me in the first place?”
Kellin smirked again, causing Vic’s stomach to churn. “You’re the first one to look at my photograph, and become interested in me..I finally have someone that can help me to move on..and that’s you.” The misty boy pointed directly at Vic.
“Me?” Vic looked dumbfounded, shocked by what the other boy had said.
Kellin smiled. “Yes, you.”
Vic gaped again. “What even happened to you?”
“You’ll find out in your dreams tonight.” And then he was gone, leaving a startled Vic standing in the middle of the hallway stupidly.
-
For the remainder of the day Vic kept himself busy, ignoring what had happened to him only a few hours before. He wrote a few songs, recorded some vocals, and chatted with some fans on Twitter.
When night came, he became incredibly anxious, confusing both his brother, and two friends. He told them he had too much coffee that morning. They believed him, and he headed to bed early.
Once his clothing was removed, he pulled the covers over his head, and drifted off to sleep. He was immediately comprised by a dream.
A raven haired boy walked down a snowy street, a girl beside him. They were a couple, but only one of them was happy with the relationship; and that was the girl. The boy wasn’t, he was only using her as a cover up because he was gay, and being gay was considered wrong then.
As they walked, they reached a large black home. The raven haired boy leaned forward, and pecked the girl on the lips, bidding her goodbye. Once she was down the road, and out of his sight, he sighed in relief, and prepared himself when he walked inside.
He wasn’t expecting what happened next.
He was yanked inside by his father; the older man was obviously drunk, and incredibly angry. The boy frowned, cowering on the floor as his father shouted.
“YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE HIDING YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! I’LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR BEING WHAT YOU ARE.” He shouted loudly, waking up the neighbors next door.
His father began beating him, slamming his fists into the boy’s ribcage in skull. He hit him for an hour straight, not realizing the boy had died due to the trauma inflicted on his skull. His ribcage had been smashed to the point where it had punctured his lung, killing him instantly.
Vic shot up, eyes wide, and sweat beading on his forehead.
“You were murdered..that man murdered you..oh my god..” He panted, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.
“Now you know..” The voice echoed throughout the darkened bedroom, making the room creepier than it appeared.
He heard that familiar voice slither into his ears, and he shuddered. He knew he had been dragged into something unpleasant, but for some reason he wanted to help the dead boy find peace.
And he would do whatever he could to help him.
Mike, and other two had gone out to explore the town, Vic had decided to stay behind so he could explore the house, and even get some writing done. Thoughts of last night were locked in his mind, and he couldn’t push them away.
They were consuming him, and he felt that maybe writing a song or two could take his mind off of what he saw last night.
After a hour of lying in bed, he sighed, and pushed the covers off of him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and pulled on his pair of black skinny jeans, and a random band shirt. Since he didn’t feel like straightening his hair, he pulled his beanie on to his head, and made sure it was secure before exiting the room.
Vic hummed a song under his breath as he walked down the quiet hallway, examining the pictures as his feet moved. There were some of families dating back to the 1800s, that he had inferred. The small Mexican had always been fascinated by history; it was the class he had excelled in when he was in high school, along with music.
After finally making his way down the first hallway, he saw a picture of the same boy again. He appeared to be standing with some girl his age, and Vic felt a spur of jealousy alight in his chest.
What the fuck Vic? He’s dead, and has been for years.
Vic shook his head; maybe he hadn't slept well enough last night.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and was about to make his way down the stairs when he heard a distant voice. It was soft, slightly high pitched, but definitely a male.
Vic froze, and glanced over his shoulder, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“I know you can here me..” The voice called, sounding amused.
“Who are you?” Vic questioned, eyes wide with terror. “Where are you?”
“I’m right beside you, but you can’t see me..you saw me the other night..”
“Are you the boy in that photograph?”
“Good guess.” The voice seemed to grow closer, and Vic felt himself back away involuntarily.
“Why can’t I see you? What’s your name? Am I hallucinating?” The small boy stuttered, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the entire situation.
A light chuckled sounded through the air, reminding Vic of soft bells. “You ask a lot of questions.” The voice paused. “Kellin, I’m Kellin, and no, you’re not hallucinating, I just haven’t shown myself to you yet.”
“O-Oh.” He stuttered again. Eyes scanning the room, locking on the figure that had appeared in front of him.
Vic gaped, staring at how beautiful the boy in front of him was, he blushed, causing the figure across from him to smirk.
“It’s finally nice to speak with you.” Kellin mused, smiling gently at Vic.
“Y-Yeah..uh..what do you want with me in the first place?”
Kellin smirked again, causing Vic’s stomach to churn. “You’re the first one to look at my photograph, and become interested in me..I finally have someone that can help me to move on..and that’s you.” The misty boy pointed directly at Vic.
“Me?” Vic looked dumbfounded, shocked by what the other boy had said.
Kellin smiled. “Yes, you.”
Vic gaped again. “What even happened to you?”
“You’ll find out in your dreams tonight.” And then he was gone, leaving a startled Vic standing in the middle of the hallway stupidly.
-
For the remainder of the day Vic kept himself busy, ignoring what had happened to him only a few hours before. He wrote a few songs, recorded some vocals, and chatted with some fans on Twitter.
When night came, he became incredibly anxious, confusing both his brother, and two friends. He told them he had too much coffee that morning. They believed him, and he headed to bed early.
Once his clothing was removed, he pulled the covers over his head, and drifted off to sleep. He was immediately comprised by a dream.
A raven haired boy walked down a snowy street, a girl beside him. They were a couple, but only one of them was happy with the relationship; and that was the girl. The boy wasn’t, he was only using her as a cover up because he was gay, and being gay was considered wrong then.
As they walked, they reached a large black home. The raven haired boy leaned forward, and pecked the girl on the lips, bidding her goodbye. Once she was down the road, and out of his sight, he sighed in relief, and prepared himself when he walked inside.
He wasn’t expecting what happened next.
He was yanked inside by his father; the older man was obviously drunk, and incredibly angry. The boy frowned, cowering on the floor as his father shouted.
“YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE HIDING YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! I’LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR BEING WHAT YOU ARE.” He shouted loudly, waking up the neighbors next door.
His father began beating him, slamming his fists into the boy’s ribcage in skull. He hit him for an hour straight, not realizing the boy had died due to the trauma inflicted on his skull. His ribcage had been smashed to the point where it had punctured his lung, killing him instantly.
Vic shot up, eyes wide, and sweat beading on his forehead.
“You were murdered..that man murdered you..oh my god..” He panted, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.
“Now you know..” The voice echoed throughout the darkened bedroom, making the room creepier than it appeared.
He heard that familiar voice slither into his ears, and he shuddered. He knew he had been dragged into something unpleasant, but for some reason he wanted to help the dead boy find peace.
And he would do whatever he could to help him.