Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27037434-20151206022045

A Day of Beckoning My girlfriend is the hottest girl I know. Any white male with sagging pants wouldn’t give her the time of day and that’s what made her perfect for such a dark and lonely soul as me. She sported bleached blonde hair that flowed over her left eye. Well, actually, flow would suggest that there was some sort of freedom to her hair, which would be inaccurate. Her hair was hardened by hairspray and other manmade products. The best comparison I could make would be a running hose with a human thumb pressed against the flow of the water. Her bangs were the consistency of knives and I fear that if I rested my head on her, a blade would pierce my cheek and my blood would be stiffened by the inhumane substances from her aerosol can. Her eyes buried under black dirt that she smeared down to her cheek. I liked the way it looked though. It was like she was already dead, and as a self-proclaimed Goth kid, I like dead things. “So my mom won’t let me go to the Rob Zombie concert. I swear, it’s like she’s begging me to run away.” My girlfriend said words to me, I think. “You’ll have to go next week alone.” I decided to experiment and find out if she was talking to me by replying with a grunt. She responded with an eye roll. “Are you listening to me?” she droned. I was, but I was too engulfed in my daily suffering and seclusion to say anything, so naturally, she tried to get my attention by shouting out obscene declarations that I knew weren’t true. She tried to get a reaction out of me. “Hey Draven, I’m pregnant.” I had left my body. My spirit was hovering above me and I had no desire to return. “I have cancer.” She said this a bit louder, “I got a fatal STD.” I don’t even think she knows which STDs are fatal. “I cheated on you with Beck.” Beck? I thought and then proceeded to plan a clever response to my girlfriend. “Beck?” I said. “Just kidding. Anyways, I can’t make the concert next week.” “Cool.” I replied. “Aren’t you going to ask why I can’t go, or maybe ask if you can sneak me out?” “I don’t want to get you or me in trouble. Sucks you can’t make it.” “Ugh.” She then left. “Why don’t you make a Facebook post about it?” Unfortunately, she left before she heard my clever remark. “Hey, man, that wasn’t cool.” I immediately knew the voice. “Beck.” I repeated. You know how I said my girlfriend was the hottest girl I knew? Yeah, well, Beck was the hottest creature to ever exist. He wasn’t as Goth as me, but he was on the right track. He had the face of an angel in earth-tone clothing. His pants were baggy, but they still hung onto his hip bones, where they belong. A shirt with a 70s band was draped over his upper torso. There were no products in his hair or makeup on his face. Actually, the only Goth characteristics he had was his piercings and musical taste. Sticking out from both of his cheeks were metal barbells. “Females deserve respect, you know? They’re our equals.” “She was the one being a shrew.” “Yeah, but when a female is heartless, she’s admirable.” “And when a male is heartless, he’s not worth your time.” I continued. Beck sighed. I loved it when he sighed. It reminded me that not everything in my environment is dead. It’d be worthless to recall exactly what we talked about for the rest of that time, for it was just pointless banter about Rob Zombie’s show next week. He was going to catch a ride with me so he could save on gas. Honestly, I wasn’t listening to Beck’s words as much as I was listening to the sound of his voice. It was airy and soothing, like a breeze. The words he spoke were irrelevant compared to the timbre. I thought about it as I crawled into bed that night, and reached under the covers to grab my laptop. I visited Vampirechat.com for two hours before I couldn’t take it anymore and I decided to message Beck on Facebook. “Hey” was the perfect three letter word. It resembled coolness and composure. It showed that you didn’t really care if the person responded, but you did care enough to send them a message. Beck replied with: “Hello!!” The excess exclamation points were too cute, but I continued to play it cool. I responded with the go-to of Facebook messaging. Me: whats up Beck: Working in my garden a bit and listening to some music, then I might take a shower. How about you? Me: nm I had to keep it clever. Apparently, though, I kept it too clever, because Beck stopped responding after that. I shut off my computer moments later and fell flat on my bed. I couldn’t sleep, so I spent the evening with my eyelids spread wide and unblinking. Tomorrow, I would had the privilege of seeing Beck’s real face, which will be plastered with awe. It was never about impressing my girlfriend. All of my word choice was based on impressing Beck and keeping him content while I would reveal my true devilish intentions behind the closed door of my room. I actually watched the sun rise. The light from the sky always succeeded in sickening me and giving my morning a bad start; however, today felt exceptionally agonizing. I felt like the last living part of me had died. Maybe I just needed caffeine. “Morning Drake.” My mom exclaimed as I rose from my coffin. “Mom, I told you. Call me Draven.” I plucked a Monster energy drink from the fridge. “I’m sorry, ‘Draven’.” She dared to giggle as she uttered my totally sweet Goth name. “Whatever. I’m gone.” I seized my backpack from the kitchen table and rushed out the door. I didn’t care to hear another word from that termagant. She’d probably ask me something stupid like, “How did you sleep?” or “Did you get all your homework done?” Just the thought of it caused my stomach to churn. Upon my exit, I immediately reached a point of excess in happiness. The sky was a dark grey and full of heavy clouds that were oozing with acid rain. It’d be a while since we’ve gotten any rain at all, so I was pleased. Perhaps today wouldn’t be so bad. When you enter my school, your nose will be instantly assaulted by a scent similar to Lemon Pledge. The walls are a noxious white; matching the floors, which gleam at the touch of the filtered sun. Students have painted faces and colored hair. When in such a sanitary world, most people end up as germiphobes. The sparkling appearance becomes the norm and anything less is polluted. Little do they know that we needed pollution to make everything so chemically fresh. Our world ignorantly carries on an abusive relationship with these chemicals. It’s clean and flawless, but with that comes unnaturalness. “Hey.” My girlfriend muttered, once she appeared next to me like a ghost. Her hair was ratted out in the back, but the famous blade bangs were still forced intact. Eyeliner was minimal, which made her look like she was sick or tired. “Hey.” “Are you mad at me?” It doesn’t always have to do with you. Maybe I just like being in a state of perpetual sorrow. “Where’s Beck?” I replied, thoughtfully. I had been in this building for a total of four minutes and I was already aching inside to see my one true love. “Maybe ditching or something? I don’t know—but are you mad at me?” “No.” And that was my last word for the rest of the school day. I spent the next few hours on my smart phone, attempting to contact Beck. It was too no avail, for he was not online at all today. I even messaged him a second time. I said, “Hey”—but he still didn’t give me the time of day. There was a part of my soul that was burning out. Soon enough, I would be permanently held captive in the darkness. So, that was it. I had to go to his house and find out why he was avoiding me. I excused myself from my sixth period class and booked it out the door before the teacher could ask any questions. I ran all the way down the stairs and out the door until I was wheezing uncontrollably. Yeah, that’ll happen if you’ve smoked since you were 8 years old. I decided to walk the rest of the way. Beck’s house was only a mile away and if I rushed, I could reach it in 30 minutes. The rain was even harder at this point. I didn’t mind. I just needed to see the dude of my dreams. I strategically ran in ten minute intervals, taking breaks in between; until finally, Beck’s house stood before me. I didn’t even knock on the door. I flung it open and rushed up the stairs to his room. “Hey Beck?” I called out, but my voice stayed cool, to assure him that I cared, without caring too much. “Why weren’t you at school today?” I heard no vocals besides my own and the sound of Rob Zombie’s Living Dead Girl, blasting in his room. I knew he was home, but perhaps he couldn’t hear me over the music. “Beck?” My voice was crumbling and cracking. Living Dead Girl ended, but luckily in was on repeat and so it started over. I had now approached Beck’s room. The smell of rust had put me in a trance that led me this way. He was not inside, so I then turned the opposite direction, facing the bathroom. At first, I saw only black. A canvas of darkness draped over my eyes, as if to protect me from the horror before me. It was a blindfold made of ignorance and so I let the canvas rest over my face for as long as possible. It was one of the few situations in my life that I wanted to remain without knowledge of the events around me. That’s when I realized, the lights were just off. The overbearing scent was enough to keep me from reaching that switch. It reminded me of a decaying car, which has lost its purpose. A car that can only decompose until it is dragged away, screaming as the corroded parts are scraping against the pavement. “Beck?” I called one last time, even though I did not expect an answer. I stepped forward into the aroma, which then guided me to the bathtub. I reached into the warm water and caressed what I believe was soft skin. I felt what seemed to be an arm, surrounded by cold, tattered flesh. It sent me into a panic and I finally reached over and turned on the light. In the bathtub, which filled just below the brim, was a familiar corpse. Two gashes rushed down Beck’s wrists like two great rivers rushing into the sea. The water was stained red, like Kool Aid. His brown eyes were still lazily open, but they looked hollow. The life was drained from them. His skin was bloated full of the bathwater. As a Goth kid, I’d picture my friends dying a lot. I pictured my girlfriend dying from lung cancer. I pictured a good chunk of my other friends over-dosing on heroine. Unfortunately, I did not picture Beck in a man-made pond of his own blood. I imagined a godly creature, resting between white sheets. He would pass in his sleep, at an old age. He’d be surrounded by loved ones. He would feel the warmth of a thousand hearts filled with a bittersweet sorrow as their favorite person on this trash planet passed away. Instead, he was deceased, in a bathtub, with his wrists slit open. I can also assume he did this to himself. This discovery threw me into a fit of rage and at the same time, it threw me into a pit of darkness. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull and I collapsed to the floor, like a pile of bones. When I woke up, I was outside of my love’s house. My body was sprawled out in the garage, right next to his car. It didn’t take long for me to realize what it was that startled my slumber. A barrier of screaming noise enclosed around my ears. It was bouncing against the walls of the garage, forcing the discord into my auditory organs. I had a low tolerance for such intense noise. “Shut up!” I attacked the cacophony with my own voice, which was now aggressive and irritated. The loudness subsided to a persistent whimper. Now I could pinpoint where the sound was coming from. There was a figure next to me. It was on the floor, sprawled out as well. I refrained from rising and instead turned my head. “Oh. Hey Draven.” The figure spit up a pile of blood onto the floor. “Hey. You’re all better.” I muttered and reached for the face. Attached to his cheek piercings were jumper cables that were then attached to his car’s battery. I prayed it was some sort of prank that he was pulling on me, until I glanced to his wrists. The slices were forced to be closed with stables. “Did you do something to me?” the revived Beck stammered. I assumed it was me who had done this. There was no one else sprawled out on the floor besides us. “I think, I made you better, darling. You’re not quite the same, but you’re better.” My words crumbled like a dam with too much water pressure, “If I didn't do this, someone else would’ve.” “Someone else would’ve reanimated my corpse?” “Everyone loves you. You couldn’t leave us. Too many people would miss you.” I was filled with anxiety on the inside, but I was not showing it externally. I wanted Beck to know I was cool. “That doesn’t give you any right to drag me out of a place I was meant to be in. You think you can corrupt nature just for your comfort and happiness?” “It’s not just for me, Beck. You benefit so many people just by being alive.” Beck yanked the jumper cable off of his cheek piercing. I now noticed the singed flesh surrounding the barbells in his face. Eh, I’d still fuck him. He touched the now neutrally charged barbell. The metal was red hot and once he reached it, the skin on his finger immediately turned a deep crimson. He didn’t seem to take notice of that, however. Perhaps, he would no longer feel pain. Perhaps, he would no longer be human. When my unconscious body was doing this to him, I had thought this would revive him and make him just like he was before; but perhaps in hindsight, I regret any decision I made. Perhaps. Beck screwed the piercing out of his face. A hole surrounded by charred skin was all that remained. He punctured my heart with his barbell. I made no attempt to stop him; I could hardly tell there was a foreign object penetrating my chest. It wasn’t even until he attached the jumper cable to the barbell and started up the car that I realized I was going to die. My body convulsed and flopped and made it so I could see out the window. When Beck spoke again, it sounded like water pouring into my ear canal. “When a male is heartless, he’s not worth your time.” From in here, the rain outdoors looked like regular rain, but I knew that out there, it was poisoning the flesh of everyone else. 