fatal attraction {cameo}

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mat
Retired Staff

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Pronouns: he/him
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fatal attraction {cameo} Sept 11, 2018 16:16:13 GMT -5

Post by mat on Sept 11, 2018 16:16:13 GMT -5

Lucien Grey

You’re marked for death, Lucien Grey.

The words from my ~~best friend~~ ex-best friend echoed throughout every chamber of my being as I stumbled upon the unevenly paved road from my second home back to my first. Redd Wilson, and his sister, Scarlet, meant more than the stars billions upon billions of miles away from the planet Earth. It took traveling across what felt like light years to finally make a connection with a group of people aside from my family, and now within minutes, my heart and peace of mind fling back at the speed of light to a haunting reality. The basics. Square one. All for a fatal attraction that broke a pledge made four years ago by two kids who couldn’t figure out a better name than the “Bro Code.”

I mean, come on, the Bro Code sounds like the fakest promise two friends can make. It’s like it’s asking to be broken. And even then, was breaking the ‘code’ worth losing something irreplaceable? ~~Was Scarlet Wilson, a girl one year younger than me and my best friend’s sister, the person I lose my virginity to? Seriously? Out of all the things-~~ Scratch that, the disappearance of the presence of my dear buddy Redd Wilson is the most irreplaceable loss of them all. For two years now, all he wanted was to show me how he felt, and the first time he builds up the confidence is the one time that could prove to him I don’t feel the same way. Coincidence? Yes. Ironic? Yes. But it would happen to a guy like me, with everything to lose and not much to gain.

The worst part is that I feel confused. Scarlet Wilson is a beautiful girl, with a great brain and wonderful heart, and surely she was the girl who stood waiting in a tower for me in my dreams. But when her brother told me that he loved me, and for two years he was trying to express it, I too tried to explain it. It wasn’t like in chemistry when Mr. Spitzer asked me to explain hydrocarbons. I couldn’t do it because I didn’t know. With Redd, I knew exactly how I felt about him. Us Before the World was our Bro Code motto for an undying and unconditional friendship. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, grow up to be the old men who yelled at the kids who played on our properties.

For half of my life, my father taught me to imagine and dream big. Above all else, he showed me how to feel emotion, every last inch that I could soak up and absorb. Dad failed, however, to help me understand how to express it to other people. That’s what made me a flamboyant yet shy kid, I guess. I felt so much but was able to explain so little. And given the experience of just having had sex with my best friend’s sister when said best friend walks in to say ‘I love you,’ I’d say the biggest missing piece is showing me what love truly is.

Did I love Scarlet? Did I love Redd? Did I love both?

Hard to tell, given the flip of both coins has meant that if I ever see any of the Wilsons ever again, they’ll be sure to fulfill my ‘mark for death.’

Walking home, I took the back roads. I didn’t want anyone to look at me while I felt down, and I didn’t want to be heard if I let out a few sniffles and tears.

(I’m just full of impulsive mistakes today, aren’t I? Fuck.)

The side roads and alleyways of District Six felt nearly dead. Quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop or a mouse breathe, but I heard nothing. Sometimes, people say that the moments before death, you lose each of your senses, even before you know it’s going to happen.

An arm pulls me around to see a face, head full of dark brown hair, with eyebrows arched in anger.

{“I told you, Lucien Grey, you’re marked for death.”} Piercing words are paired with an excruciating pain near my stomach. {“You broke the Bro Code, you lost undying love. Now, you can just have dying love. So… die.”}

He leaves the blade he stuck in my body tucked in neatly to my shirt before running off.

I wait for a minute, then two, until he’s out of sight. My heart breaks as I let out a shocking scream for help, but all I can think is did I love him?

~~Fuck.. did I really love him?~~

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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fatal attraction {cameo} Sept 12, 2018 19:10:21 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Sept 12, 2018 19:10:21 GMT -5

https://files.elle.se/uploads/fly-images/265054/Alba-August-685x360-c.jpg

Thalia Court

Eyes glance at her from every person passed; whether a nurse filing papers at a desk, another Doctor traveling by, or a patient healing within a room, their irises shine at her just to be swiftly transferred elsewhere as if eye contact with her may turn them into stone. Words would hush as she approached down the hall, and whispering gossip follow as she continues down the path. Similar events were consistently witnessed when she’d notice one of her parents venturing through this very hospital that they own, while within her experience of such it’s still far different - the intimidation everyone pertains for her parents is quite different from the kind they hold for her. Disgust glistens from their brief stares upon her, exactly how her Siblings would gaze at her years back when her mind caved in a jumbled mess of confusion to her parents interrogating quizzes. She’s no longer just the blonde Failure to her family now, but that to everyone who knows of her.

The Gossiper of nurses halts the Blonde’s walk of shame to her storage closet of an office, urgency consuming her features. “Ms. Thalia, you’re needed in room 104 now.” Hastily instructs within a ramble of desperation. Room 104, first level of the Olympus, section for the emergencies - an area Thalia swore she’d refuse to enter, though she’d prefer to never step into this unforgiving building altogether.

“Find Collin, he should be in the clinic section performing followups.” A melancholy response mutters from the Blonde, neglecting the imperativeness of the nurse’s tone.

“He’s been unable to be located.”

Of course Collin’s vanished into another one of his disappearance acts, though it’s never been at such a crucial time. Often he’s no where to be seen, but appears just in the nick of time to save the day - and another patient…. Except for now. “A ER doctor? My parents? Why are you coming to me? I’m not even scheduled to work the ER!” Frustration coils from her voice in a seemingly selfish panic to not be needed, assuming this unknown patient has a better chance of surviving without care then with her’s.

The Nurse grabs a hold of her wrist and begins pulling her to where she’s required, as if she were a child refusing to do a chore. “Your parents were in prep for surgery when the patient came in, and demanded that you take it. Now stop whining like a damn baby.” Hesitation consumes Thalia though, as she pushes back from the yank to go. But furious eyes of surprising confidence strike back at her when the Nurse turns back around to face her. “Maybe you wont be able to save this boy. But if you don’t try, he’s definitely going to die! You’re his only chance.” And with those words, Thalia caves and complies.

“Stab victim. He’s already lost three pints of blood. Knife is still intact.” Is the final information delivered before Thalia’s thrusted into the chaos she despises.

“Stop!” She screams at a nurse who’s a mere second away from removing the weapon. Gloves spread upon her pinked hands from sanitization in nearly boiling water and scrubbing a layer of skin off. Often a calmness collapses upon the room when a Doctor enters the emergency, while here breaths are held at the sight of Thalia. “Don’t remove that knife. Hook him up to a blood transfusion now.” And then she notices why she was called personally for such an endeavor. The mere texture of his pale skin, the raggedness of his attire, and unkemptness of his hair, delivers all the information needed - he’s too poor to deserve a better Doctor.

“But we don’t know his blood type…” Cation spews from an assisting nurse, explaining the inexcusable reasons for not injecting him with a life saving necessity.

“Then get some damn O negative blood in here, NOW! Are we all a bunch of amateurs in here?” Scolding words bark from her lips, in a disgust usually given to her and not from. Hesitation objects the nurse from following her instructions, infuriating her even more so. Such blood as O negative is held for solely the wealthy who can afford such - not a victim who just so happened upon their facility. But with the owners occupied, unable to refrain their daughter from doing as she pleases, she doesn’t refrain from doing what’s needed. “I said now!” The control of her voice finally forces the nurse to do as she seeks.

A mere moment halts time as she studies the boy’s face in wait for blood to begin replacing the mass that he lost. His features are so innocent and pure, youthfulness placing his years of life around her own, while they express no reasons to why someone would stab him. What did he do? “The Victim appears conscious but unresponsive. Begin a drip for anesthesia and antibiotics. Let’s get this knife out of him, & get him stable enough to wait for someone who can take better care of him.” Instructs from Thalia’s lips as if she’s been doing this properly for years.

“Removing the knife in three…two..” Immediately following two nurses apply pressure upon the opening, holding for the excruciating minutes that pass by ever so slowly.

“The blood loss is thinning.” A smidgen of good news is gifted by one of the nurses, before such a luxury instantly shrivels to nonexistence with the beeping machines that follow. “His heart race is slowing…” And once again the tables turn drastically.

There’s no time to even request another Doctor’s assistant, let alone wait for it. “Angle the table for the wound to be raised at an elevation three inches higher then his heart.” Instructs from Thalia in a rash of emotions, anxiety rattling her fingers.

“But that’s not protocol…”

“Do it!” She nearly screams at the one tempting to advice her in an aspect she’s studied her entire life… but only ever did merely that, studying. A rushed gesture instructs the nurses to move, and with those shivering fingertips she shakily enforces a clot to form with a clench in determination for him to not lose any more blood. The machines continue to sing an undesired beat, though somehow never screech in a flatline. And with a clot, comes a steady carol of beeps. A breath finally releases from her lungs at the sound. Minutes pass excruciatingly slowly while the rest of the repair takes place.

A hand rests upon her shoulder after her collapse upon a chair. Had she just sat down, or has it been hours? How did she even get here? “You did it Thalia. You actually saved him.” The nurse, who retrieved her in the first place, whispers in her own disbelief.

“No, I didn’t. He’s just stable.” She denies the reward of a compliment when still so much information is unknown. An organ could have been hit, and she was in too much of a panic to stop the blood loss to examine such. There could be internal bleeding. The machine may breach of another warning song at any second. “And once my parents find out about him, he’s going to be sent to a clinic that doesn’t have the means to save him. If anything, I just took away his ability for a peaceful death.” Because that’s all that’s given to the patients who are unfortunate to find themselves in her care.

Last Edit: Sept 12, 2018 19:11:27 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

So Many Different Personalities

mat
Retired Staff

2,404 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 18, 2024 14:54:08 GMT -5

fatal attraction {cameo} Jan 2, 2019 0:22:58 GMT -5

Post by mat on Jan 2, 2019 0:22:58 GMT -5

Lucien Grey

There’s a ringing in my ear and a dark tint in my eyes that forces my entire body motionless against the brick walls of the alley. Sounds escape my lips like a clash of a metal pipe, echoing in the enclosed walls of the area. Time stood still and I was sure death was at my side. Dad and I imagined the fight between good and evil to come to a close at the end of every life, when one side claims dominion over the soul. It wasn’t like anyone could know, especially since most people don’t give a play by play of their death moments before it happens, nor do they live to tell the tale. But one side of my chest succumbed to a piercing pain while the other fell victim to a numbness, nothingness. I was a bad person, I knew it from the moment I saw tears in my best friend’s eyes. Evil took control of me, filling every ounce of my blood with an empty and unsolvable pain: regret.

I could have made him feel better- I could have consoled him. I could have avoided my attraction, I could’ve prevented this. But I didn’t, and I must suffer the consequences.

The castle of my dreams fell to dust and left me locked inside a blackness of my own consciousness.

I did not feel dead but I certainly had no inclination of life, either.

Just darkness.

--

My eyes don’t open, but I hear a woman yelling orders at others, and with each command my body shifts a bit. I was moving, and everything hurt like a motherfucker, but I was alive.

Thank ripred.

“Stable,” I hear come from the girl who gave demands. There’s other words lost in transit, but I hear that one, and it brings me calm.

“And once my parents find out about him, he’s going to be sent to a clinic that doesn’t have the means to save him. If anything, I just took away his ability for a peaceful death.”

Taking away my ability for a peaceful death.. quite honestly, the opposite of stable.

My eyes opened to see a bright light and tables all around and it was like I was brought back to life. I shouldn’t be here, no, I didn’t deserve to be here after what I did to Redd Wilson, my betrayal.

The flinching and pain force my lips to let out uncomfortable noises, each one trying but failing to relieve some of the pain. The “Ahs” and “Ows” played through my head like a broken record, and I tried to move as best I could to make my body feel better, but I couldn’t. The dream world I had created in my head still left me locked in the rubble of the castle, vines entangled the damage and leaves blowing in the purple air’s wind.

“Make it stop,” three words fall out of my mouth, coming to as much surprise to the other people in the room as myself. Tears well into my eyes and I try to turn on my side again but it’s no good. I’m locked in, but the knife that was once in my chest was gone.

It was a hospital, and they were saving me.

Heaven and hell did not yet get to choose who received Lucien Grey. Not yet.

“I don’t want to die.”