Pariah Fer // D3 (fin)

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 19, 2024 19:03:29 GMT -5	Pariah Fer // D3 (fin) Mar 13, 2014 20:29:22 GMT -5 via mobile Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 20:29:22 GMT -5 Oh boy I might get killed by a tragedy Oh look i'm high in the clouds like Ree Pariah Fer Socialite and Popular The Tragic Delights of the Fer Family Maybe he likes Kinsey? Prolly likes Kinsey tbh Odairin' it
	Last Edit: Mar 28, 2014 14:41:10 GMT -5 by Deleted

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Pariah Fer // D3 (fin) Mar 28, 2014 14:38:44 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2014 14:38:44 GMT -5

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"Tsara,"

The pencil taps against the soft pad of paper, large and rough hands reaching up to run a hand through hair that had been buzzed off only days ago. A small sigh followed by a slight chuckle of absolute disgrace is audible as the boy stares down at the blank piece of paper, blue eyes staring down the sheet as his mind works overtime just to finish and blurt out a single thought or statement.

"I'm sorry."

Whoa, don't strain yourself there, Pariah.

Words kept at the tip of his tongue, writing that stops just at the tip of his pencil and never make it to the blank piece of paper that's sprawled out before him. I'm sorry for...

Being a terrible brother

Not supporting you

Yelling at you

Ripping the arm off of your teddy bear the other day

Pushing you into that wall when i'd stormed past you the other day

Theres so many things that should be written on that pale piece of paper, scrawled out in the messy handwriting he's never bothered to make neater because it just wasn't worth it. But instead, he stops, pencil tip hovering over the sheet as he bites his lip out of concentration and frustration.

The sound of a paper being torn in half, and another sigh before he exits the room, slamming down the pencil on the table as he does so.

It was like his mind was never going to let him fix what had come between him and his own sibling, one who'd perhaps gone through one of the greatest changes of ~~his~~ her life, and yet he still gave him dirty looks and glares, yelled at him whenever he could. He had ripped the arm off his teddy bear only days ago, let the stuffing fall to the floor and had thrown the torn limb across the room, even though he knew how much it meant to the poor kid because he'd been there when his parents had bought it.

Luckily, Topia hadn't been able to handle the little balls of stuffing on the floor, and had decided to play medic and sew the arm back on (whether it was because she actually cared, or because her perfect world had been interrupted he couldn't tell).

The door closes with a soft click, leaving the dirty and messy room behind for a spotless and clean utopia that was his home. The work of his sister Topia, the one who's hands shook when the forks were put back in the wrong spot, when the fridge wasn't exactly in order like she liked it. He'd stopped allowing her access to his room months ago, after he'd stumbled in (a little too tipsy, he'd admit) one night and ended up tripping over the newly organized shoes that were sitting in the corner of his room and banged his head on his desk, even knocked himself out and woken up with a gash on his forehead and a splitting headache. He even has the scar to prove it.

When he was younger, before he'd matured and realized that there was something seriously wrong with Topia (along with everyone else in this family), he'd go around intentionally knocking things over, putting things back in the wrong place, make things imperfect on purpose just to watch his sister have a mini-heart attack and freak out about fixing the blemish. Now, he takes extra care to do everything right, try to make things exactly as perfect as they were just so Topia doesn't actually have a heart attack and drop dead on the middle of the floor.

Because he'd been a cause of her OCD, and that does nothing but pain him.

He passes by his family without so much as a glance at them, bag full of alcohol slung over his shoulder and pockets stuffed with bills and money.

He hated that part of himself.

He hated the booze, the smoking, the parties and the late nights. He hated that he'd locked himself into a life that he didn't have the guts to get out of, a sudden change in his life that sparked the reason for him being so upset over Tsara changing himself so suddenly. Closer inspection of the family portraits hanging up in the Fer household hallways would reveal a short, chubby bot with gaps in his teeth, goofy grin plastered on his face and a haircut fit for the nerdiest of people.

Pariah Fer had been a loser, 100%. Nothing but a poor, unpopular kid who'd never get a girlfriend, never be part of that cool group of kids who dominated the fifth grade, with their cool outfits and sneers and jeers. It's not like it'd really even affected him all that much during his younger years, before he'd been sent off to middle school, a place where bullies were bred and people's mistakes were immediately pointed out by others. There were always people who ruled that school with an iron fist, like Luci is convinced that she rules the district or something. The one's who were immune, who's mouths shot out insults like guns shot bullets and the ones responsible for those bad thoughts inside kid's heads.

Mrs. Lofe's class, seventh grade. That's when it'd started, after some kid had called the teacher Mrs. Meatlofe, poking fun at her weight (a joke that wasn't even that funny, yet the minds of seventh graders find odd things funny). And he'd laughed, mushroom cut hair bobbing up and down as he'd chuckled right along with those boys.

"what you laughing at? You weigh the same as her anyways."

It'd taken him a few moments to even realize that they were talking to him, that the pack of popular kids had located a target and had attacked, howls and chuckles directed at him instead of the teacher.

Shots fired.
Target hit.

That's when it started, self-consciousness festering up in his stomach, building and coiling inside of his stomach and mind until one day it'd all just burst.

He had to change.

It wasn't easy. No, it was anything but that. Shaving his head was easy, getting rid of that haircut was done within minutes. It was the weight that was the challenge, forcing himself to run through the district in desperation to try to lose the weight that wasn't even that noticeable. He even stopped eating for a time, literally starving himself because of what one person had said to him back in seventh grade.

Puberty had done wonders for him, forced him into his own body and made him so tall it was like someone had put stilts in his legs. He started eating again, started filling out and losing that weight. He had friends, even got a girlfriend before dumping her simply because his friend had said to. Things were good.

He covered up the fact that he was a Fer with house parties and booze, typical teenage things, just used for a different purpose. He even started to think like them, to hate his own family like he wasn't one of them and to outright despise them all.

And then it started again.

Not self-consciousness, no. That feeling had been crushed by popularity long ago. He didn't know what this feeling was, how it affected him in ways far more than when he was young. He lost the joy in hanging out with his friends, of throwing and going to parties with the people he'd been hanging with for years now.

He started to hate himself for changing.

And it festered, just like that twinge of insecurity had back in seventh grade. But this time he did nothing about it, he couldn't do anything about it, he couldn't change himself back. He didn't have the heart to do it, didn't have the guts to.

Maybe thats why he couldn't stand the fact that Tsara had completely changed himself over the course of one night, replacing t-shirts and khakis with makeup and jewelry. That's why he got so angry with him for changing himself, whether it was because someone had said something to him or not. He was convinced that was the way he was supposed to be, he'd even said that to him when he'd first done it.

He didn't believe him.

Locking eyes with his former brother on the way out the door sent twinges of guilt up his spine, fusing with anger and the same disbelief that he'd felt when Tsara'd come downstairs dressed up in girl's clothes, with makeup on and a self-conscious look on his face.

He'd probably try writing to him again tonight.

He'd fail yet again.

coded by anzie with reference to skye@caution2.0

PARIAH FER

District Three . Male . Seventeen

Last Edit: Dec 9, 2014 10:56:30 GMT -5 by Deleted

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 19, 2024 19:03:29 GMT -5	Pariah Fer // D3 (fin) Mar 28, 2014 14:39:49 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2014 14:39:49 GMT -5 I absolutely despise this bio, but fin.

garnet beauford d8 [earthling] Administrator 9,452 POSTS Pronouns: She/Her last seen Apr 18, 2024 8:31:45 GMT -5 cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3	Pariah Fer // D3 (fin) Mar 29, 2014 10:42:09 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Mar 29, 2014 10:42:09 GMT -5 Whereas I absolutely loved it. It gave me ALL the feels and I cannot wait to write them together. <333 Beautiful. ACCEPTED!
	Last Edit: Mar 29, 2014 10:42:21 GMT -5 by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] credit gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan credit ✨ - chars -