Chapter 1: Return In My Arms
Pitter patter, tweedle-dumb; twiddling my thumbs as I sit back and observe the outside world. Wondering what everyone I had known is up to and doing. My circle: Cherry, Alabaster, Emilelisa, and Hazi. Four unique individuals; Cherry is obviously my best friend, and Al’ being my boyfriend. The other two I am unfamiliar with as much. All I know is their basics: Emi’ is a pop star/actress while Hazi is like.. Somehow Al’s step-cousin? Even though me and Hazi have our little relations we still manage to keep it a secret. But it’s weird thinking about it. It’s not my fault Alabaster’s brother doesn’t like me. Whatever though, I don’t pay attention to that little psycho and his asian bitch.
I can imagine the two busting out of some robbery or some shit like the little Bonnie and Clyde they are. And Al’s probably been smoking heavy as usual; no surprise if I see him with his eyes all red when I return... That little stoner. Cherry, counting her stack of hundreds from all the drug deals done in the past… well however long I have been out. Emilelisa is probably performing another concert as a soloist. Getting great green every day: I never understood why she was always upset all the time. Beautiful looks, gorgeous long black hair, amazing and talented voice. What possibly could she complain about? However, I did remember seeing something earlier when at their house but it’s probably just nothing. I’m more concerned about Hazi and how he is doing. I just wish I could hold him and tell him how important he is because before I attempted, he wasn’t doing so hot himself. Poor kid cuts himself up enough to the point where his family had to hide knives. His older brother isn’t helping either, Hazi is just a kid and he puts him through so much bullying…
I hope when I arrive I can see him and comfort the poor guy. I slowly lay my head back for a breather, trying to breathe out the utter frustration in the world, than myself. Soon a loud abrupt voice rings in my ear with its distinct tone: “ You feelin’ lucky kid?” It takes me a minute to answer as towards what he was meaning in that line. Sitting up straight, I answer what others find to be cocky: “ Does it look like I want to talk? Plus it doesn’t even matter so just shut up and drive already. That’s what my worthless father is paying you for right?” A silence masks the air but it cuts off short as the man begins scowling in laughter. Alas, laughing a bit too hard to irritable concerns so… I take care of it. The man begins coughing and squealing for a few breaths of air, causing a smile of mine to perk up. That is, at least until the vehicle steers out of control, swerving back and forth... So, I stop and give the man back his breath. Trying to gain patience is the hardest.
He quickly grasps a hold of his breath, taking minutes of recovery while trying to steer the bus on track again. ‘Only moments away from my home’, I think to myself as I close my eyelids to relax. Soon the driver steers himself back to normal, making sure to never open his mouth in fear of causing trauma. I take a deep breath and chuckle silently.
After a few moments, we arrive... Seeing the dark plated fiery town brought back old memories of life. Ah, yes, my closest sibling of mine (Anthony), us being so close we have encountered such drastic of things. I remember when we use to have to experiment with shrooms and made a bet on whoever did the most abnormal things would have to cut themselves for a week. Yes, I know.. Rather sadistic aye? Well, it is what happens when you force your children to have fucked up lifestyle. You heard me right, it was my father who gave us that order; and as children, neither of us knew any better. All our schoolmates would always look at us funny, but he did it supposedly out of a test. Now I mean, just looking at me and Anthony you see the different impacts.. Well you can. He’s turn into a blood drinking psycho, and then there’s me. However we aren’t the only children that our father forced to do inhumane things for his own benefit. There are eight of us, in total. Eight little children he raised to be pure clones of him. Or to carry out his sinister ‘doings’ as I should say. Almost none of us look a like, imagine that huh? But I shouldn’t dwell on the past I guess.. It just makes me want to die more.
The town is still nearly destroyed but it appears more built up than usual. The streets are tore but the tone a little less scratched. It hasn’t gone down quite as chaotic from what the normality of it is. So this behaviour is rather suspicious to me. How should this be defined: if they/specific person or being could take the sins of the world to a different perspective, this would be the core. Well, I mean it kind of is. Yes, you heard me right: Welcome to Sanctum Satan. But then again, humans have always had musky reputation for infamous desires. Hell, usually the only differences are us admitting our wrongs and upfronting our evils; as if slurping the hatred out of every being soul, but it doesn’t end there. We thirst and thrive on it to survive our day. This brings out a usual disgust towards the humans, well most anyways.
My body shivers, as my anxiety is closing in; engulfing me as the estate of where I live in draws near. Just 12 miles away, the tip of the black mansion is peeking outwards to haunt me. Soon a few flashbacks hit and I begin to freak out and panic with outbursts of trauma forced into. That one night, raining of course:
“ Good little boys, obey their father”
Tears begin to drip through my eyes as I glare at my trembling hands and begin to panic until I plant my palms on my scalp. Forcing my nails to claw into my skin and scream as more words and memories drown my being:
“ I don’t want to go swimming daddy-”
As my words are wrangled up are entwined as my casual “relaxing sit and wait” rock me instead back and forth, faster and faster. Until I finally begin kicking my legs, as if trying to paddle with sharp points of air. I hear the bus driver yell at me but it is all mute with the hearing of the ocean as the expression on my face go haywire, dripping sweat down my face. Then it all turns black.
Dead asleep, paralyzed in my own thoughts for awhile….
Until.. Something hits..
I wake up, lying on some type of cushioning platform. My eyes are battered open to the restless loud party music in the room, pounding itself into my eardrum. With the hard beat, my senses tingle as eyes squinting to the bright, multicolored room. Normal, purple, normal, green, blue, black, red, normal: a seizure infest of course on my sensitive pupils. What a bizarre of events as well.. Was this, a pill party?
I see teens drinking and dancing. Taking pills and doing heroin. Sitting up, I realize for I am now on an elegant, dark couch. Trying to get up but startled by the fastest grab- tackle- “ Hey f___ktard!”, they laugh in my ear; so close, creepy and seductive. I look to my side to see who it is. Oh god, it’s Anthony… okay, picture your typical white blonde pretty boy. Now imagine if he was psychotic. That is him, red eyes, short cut hair on the left side so it sways the right. Don’t let his charm fool you ever. He glares at me and bites his lip gently enough to see the tip of the fang brush off his bottom lip. I turn over to him, rather irritated, “ The f__k do you want?” He slaps his mouth shut calm as I observe his preppy boy appearance with a party crown. “ Wow are you that mad?” He giggles, “ You didn’t miss your fraternal twin brother? Or are you just mad that I got my d___k s___ked eight times.” “ Uhm, ew? Get the fuck off me Anthony.” I push him away from me and he pulls me back towards him with his hand tight on my wrist. “ Hey, chill the fuck out.”, he says in a threatening manner then puts his hands through my hair. “ Now where’s that smile at?”, he says jokingly.
I continuously stare at his hand as he removes it. God, he is so gay around me, it’s kind of disgusting but if I mention it I just know he will try to fight me. My voice reaches its words to assert itself, “ Uhm, how long have I been out?” “ Oh? Haha, long enough for Natsumi to draw a d__k on your face. But yeah, like-” “ Wait there’s a penis on my face?” I slap my head on my face to try to figure out where it may be. He laughs to his own amusement, “ Hah, I’m kidding, god you are so gullible, I erased it already”, he smiles and winks at me. I didn’t have time to hear him turn my mind around, I just needed to get up and figure out what the hell was going on. I push my body upward from the ground slowly, trying to get my sore asleep legs to follow up. Once standing up tall, I reach upward and stretch my nauseous body to explore the absurdity of the teens.
Wooden grey floor tiles, well decorated assortments; I couldn’t tell if this was my house or just another trip... Soon my world circles around me a little. Moving back and forth, pushing past unrecognizable people. Some with party masks or animal heads and human beings. Others are.. Demons I recall? It is hard to tell with everything happening so fast.
Am I, in a time-lapse? Yes, trying to speed up to the end I believe. As the ground shakes the members get wilder. Death Karaoke, Dare or Strip, Kiss and Tell: each phase would hit my head making things get dizzier and dizzier. Eyes searching for a reasonable stillness to comprehend what is all going on. Then I feel a sharp grab at my shoulder, shaking me, calling my name. “Damien, Damien”, for each time getting louder and louder to the point of lift my eyelids open once more.
“Damien, Damien!”, screeching at me continuously with it’s ‘bratty snow white’ voice-no...no can’t be..”Ch-Cherry?” My vision in scented back to the depths of reality as I can view her holding on to me. Waking me up in the, middle of nowhere? “ Oh my god, what are you doing here? What happen-” “ Cherry where am I? I’m asking you what went down?” Her pretty parted face went to a confused look. Asian-American girl with salman pink short hair and cat ears. Her lips were usually glossed with her favorite Red Rum Doll-Designer brand so it would make it pop more than what her lips already do. Her bust was rather small but her wide hips and derriere made up for it I guess. There is not a man in the world that hasn’t stared at it so far. Even I tend to have my share of fantasies with it. She’s always dressed preppy to show it off so it is not exactly a surprise to see her walking with gucci heels, leopard printed leggings, top-shirt, and a jacket. Something special about her luxurious white winter jacket, designed by one of the most famous fashion designers in Urban Europe. God, in all honesty I want her to shut up and ride me but, that wouldn’t work sadly.
“Uhm Damien, answer me!”, she commands me with those fat succulent lips. I try to open my mouth but it takes me a minutes for my words to come out. She sighs and stands herself up with patience. “ Here, let me help you up.” She reaches her hand down to me with her salon red nails and rings. I sit myself up, staring at her, then her hand, and reach out for her to help pull me upward. My legs are half asleep so I try limping and holding on to her arms. Smelling her lotus flower perfume to a close encounter-ment is ever so nice.
She sits me in the passenger seat of her custom designed pink barbie convertible. Slowly adjusting myself in, she uses the time to get in the driver’s and start the engine. Waiting patiently for me to shut the door and put on my seat belt. Taking a few more moments I do so and buckle up as she is ready to drive out of the dead-looking area.
Her short hair flowing to the wind of the desert, it takes around nearly halfway to the city of Mini Brazil in which Alabaster is waiting for me at his place, just for some small-talk:
“ Are you returning from your coma?”
“Yes, It amazes me you are even alive how long you have been out.”
“ What do you mean?”
“Well, we were starting to give up hope. Every night Al’ has been thinking of you, sometimes he cries but, a month ago he stopped. He stopped caring and gave up-”
“ A month ago? How the hell long ago was I gone?”
She sighs and replies slowly….
“ Seven months..”
I shutter in amazement as it dawns on me, the time I was gone.. Wondering even more what all has happened, or if Alabaster has moved on. Looking down, trying to hold in my tears she turns her head at me.
“ Damien, please don’t do that to us. You don’t know how much we want you to be around… Al’ can’t even move on right now because of how broken he is. Please do me this one favor, please.”
My tears begin to drip off my face as she stops the car and wipes the tears off with her soft fingers.
“There we go”, she smiles,” much better.”
She starts the car back up and continues to drive, stopping by some fast food joint to get me some food and take me shopping at Ruthless Strings, a typical clothing store for those into the more dark trends. She buys me cyber blue choker with black spikes and helps me find the perfect gift for Al’: a black tanktop with the hemp sign designed. She tips the busty goth chic at the register and head out on track on the road for a half hour: finally arriving at the red-head’s household. She smiles at me and walks out of her car. “ You ready to see him?” She opens my door anticipated. “ Uh, what do you mean?” She chuckles and pulls me out shutting the door. “ C’mon, answer the door.” I stare at her confused for a few moments and breathe into my hands.. Patting my pants down and finally walking myself near the door to the enormous tropical estate. So down to earth and well thought out of pavement. Looking up, then down on the welcome mat until finally viewing the wooden black door. Moments from knocking and I freeze.
‘ What is he going to say when he sees me, what if he isn’t even home?’, thoughts of such are rushing through my head making me anxious until I finally throw past it and knock as hard as I can. Indenting a bit of the door inwards. Silence increases the air to brush past itself, louder and louder until, I see the door knob begin to slowly turn open to my amazement. My eyes widen in wonderment and dream it isn’t his younger brother Sunshine and nobody else but him. Atlast, the door slams open-