|
01/15/2021 02:04 PM
 |
the end. | drabble MMM
part one. * please read part one first before continuing!
The show went better than I ever thought it could. Even though it’s been three years since the last time I had been on stage, it had felt like I never left. The crowd cheered and sang along to every line, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was home.
Once the fans piled out of the venue, and it was just me, Teddy, and the band, I cried. I couldn’t tell if I was just severely overwhelmed, or if it was the alcohol that now warmed my body, but I couldn’t stop.
“Don’t be such a baby, Sonny,” Teddy teased as he slapped my arm. It made me laugh, and I shoved his arm away in a playful manner as my free hand reached up to wipe away the last pieces of evidence that I had in fact, been crying.
“Shut up,” I muttered with another laugh, allowing myself to decompress for a moment. “I’m just.. Really happy, dude. I didn’t think anyone still cared.” It was a confession that Teddy had heard many times before. When he first tried to get me to write music again, I swore up and down that no one gave a sh*t about Hudson King and his music career. For a while, I believed it. I had assumed that once I lost myself in my demons, others would forget about the good that I had once created. Being on stage, soaking in the energy of the crowd - it reminded me of a time where I felt alive.
Teddy offered a sympathetic smile, before walking to the side of the stage, pulling a case of beer off of one of the podiums. “Here, you look like you need one,” he said with a laugh, pulling a can out of the cardboard box, holding it out in my direction. “You killed it, Sonny.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours had passed, and my body swayed with each step as I made my way towards the back of the venue. Teddy followed closely behind with a few groupies in tow, and the four of us were headed home to do only god knows what. I knew that I shouldn’t be driving, but out of the group of us, I was the most sober, and waiting for a taxi in Covetous Valley at this hour was not something I’d want to live through. We decided to part ways - the girls in one car, Teddy and I in another; I would have offered to drive all of us, but the backseat in my car was piled high with equipment, and I couldn’t be bothered to move it. Keys in hand, I waited as Teddy kissed his nightly trophy goodbye, and laughed at his promise to see her in a few minutes. “Teddy, you’ll literally see her in less than a half hour. LET’S GO!” I shouted, Teddy’s middle finger extending in return as he kissed the blonde one more time.
I tried my best to stay focused, my hands resting at ‘10’ and ‘2’ like we’re told to do when learning to drive. My vision was blurred, but not enough for me to be concerned. Admittedly, I had driven intoxicated more times than I could count - it was part of the reason I went to rehab. It wasn’t something I was proud of. I exhaled a sigh as Teddy finally stepped into the car, and I tried my best to fake a smile. I was nervous. “You okay?” Teddy’s voice caught my attention and shook me from the overthinking state I had allowed myself to succumb to.
“I’m fine, sorry. Just spaced out a bit.” I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Fifteen minutes, Hudson. It’s just fifteen minutes. You’ll be fine, I tried reassuring myself, but the feeling deep within my gut told me this wasn’t the best idea. Instead, I ignored it, took the car out of park, and let it roll out of the parking space, my foot barely touching the gas pedal.
“Man, tonight was awesome,” Teddy’s words slurred, his grin spread from ear to ear.
I tried to match his enthusiasm, but my heart raced as we hit the freeway, the speed of the car creeping up on me with each passing second. I should slow down, I thought to myself. The speedometer inched closer to 100mph. “Heh, yeah it was awesome. I can’t wait to-”
My words were cut off as my foot hit the brakes, the tires screeching against the wet pavement. I lost control of the car, and over correcting it caused the vehicle to flip. I tried counting how many times, but lost track after three. My brain was spinning, and my hand’s were glued to the steering wheel, refusing to move. After what seemed like forever, the car finally came to a rest. My vision is still blurred, and my head is pounding. I can feel warmth trickling down my face, and it’s only when I reach up that I realize I’m covered in blood. “T-Teddy?” I finally say something, looking over to the passenger seat. Teddy’s face is covered in blood, his body laid limp in the seat. I can’t tell if he’s breathing, but I panic. “Teddy! T-Teddy… wake up, man…” I say as I shake his arm. I try unbuckling his seatbelt, but it won’t budge. “TEDDY!” I yell, though my voice isn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear.
Frantically, I shake him more. “Teddy please!! Wake up, dude.. Please..” I realize I’m sobbing, but I can’t tell if the adrenaline has worn off, or if it’s the sudden realization that I could have killed my best friend. I try everything to wake him up, but he won’t move. My heart is racing, the ringing in my ears grows louder.
And then suddenly, everything went black.
|
|
|
01/15/2021 02:02 PM
|
grief | mini drabble
Loss has a funny way of changing people - you grow a thicker skin to shield you from the wounds that are left unseen, you prioritize the ones you love over your own needs, and you learn to cherish every tiny detail about a person, no matter how unimportant it may seem to others. You study their mannerisms for so long, and somewhere along the way, they become a part of you, and the realization brings a smile to your face.
But loss also has a way of knocking you off your feet, leaving you scatter-brained and breathless. You suddenly search for any ounce of that person in everyone else you meet. This one has his laugh, that one has his smile, and the one over there shares the same sense of humor he did. You’re left yearning for anything that reminds you of the home you once had, of the people you once loved, of the people that left too soon. You dig and dig, until there’s nothing left to search for, and it works - for the most part. You get a little bit of satisfaction knowing that there’s pieces of everyone you’ve ever loved left behind in the people that you’re lucky enough to still know.
But then the day fades, and it hits you all over again - they’re never coming back.
And so, the cycle continues. You wake up and start the day with a cup of coffee, and look over to the empty chair across from you, wondering what life would be like if they were still here. You look over to your child, and wonder if they question where their daddy went and why he doesn’t love her anymore. You try your best to live life like you once had, but you search for him in everyone you cross paths with, disappointment seeping through your veins when you no longer find him. The grief comes in waves, but the ache of losing someone is always there; it demands to be felt, screaming at you until you’re left screaming too.
|
|
|
01/13/2021 03:27 PM
|
the beginning of the end. | drabble MMM
The Roxy Room - it was where all musicians in Malvada went to try and catch their big break into the music scene, and in most cases, failed. I was one of the lucky ones, though. I had been coming to the Roxy since I was old enough to do things on my own. It was the place I had my first kiss, the place I had my first beer ( underaged, of course ), and the place where I lost my virginity. I ate, slept, and breathed at the Roxy, and when it was time for me to put my music out there, I had no doubt in my mind where I would start.
My career picked up a lot quicker than I had anticipated and by the age of 21, I was living out my dream. Playing shows every week, all the booze and cocaine I could want, enough groupies for there to be an ongoing rotation of who I saw each night. By 23, I had a multimillion dollar record deal.
I struggled with fame for a long time; I let it get to my head, and shortly after my 25th birthday, I lost everything I had worked so hard for. I found myself in and out of rehab, succumbing to the demons that lived within me, continuously injecting myself with drugs to keep them ( and myself ) level headed.
The only constant I had ever known, was Teddy.
Teddy was the epitome of a ‘right-hand man’. Where I went, he went. Where he went, I went. He never questioned my loyalty, just as I never questioned his. Teddy was the first friend I had ever made, and when he saw I was struggling, he did his best to support me through it. He dropped me off at Crescent Springs Rehabilitation in Rapacity, and picked me up three weeks later when I checked myself out, no questions asked. When I needed a place to stay after leaving my dads, he opened his door for me without hesitation. When I gave up on my career, he pushed me to keep going. And because of him, I’m where I am today.
In a few hours, after too much time away, I’ll make my comeback to the Roxy. The show sold out in less than a half hour, and to be honest, I’m terrified. I feel like I forgot how to perform, and my anxiety is through the f***ing roof.
I try to drown out my feelings with another beer, the liquid coating my throat with satisfaction when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I yell, taking one more sip before setting the can down.
Teddy walks through the door, grin spread from ear to ear. “You ready for tonight? There’s SO many people out there, dude. Like, SO many,” he plopped down on the couch across from me, and I could tell he was just as excited as I was. I watched as his slender fingers reached for the guitar he’d use on stage, admiring the way he turned it by ear so effortlessly. “Hey Sonny?”
I lifted my head to meet his attention. “Yeah, I'm ready," I lied. "What’s up, boss?”
“I want you to have this guitar. To remember the night.” He offered another cheeky grin, fingers strumming a couple of chords.
Truthfully, I was taken back. That guitar meant everything to Teddy; it was a gift from his grandfather before he passed, and I swear, Teddy took the damn thing everywhere. I couldn’t accept it. “Nah man, that’s yours. It’s important to you,” I said, shaking my head as I took another sip of beer.
“It’s just a guitar, Hudson,” he said, shoulders shrugging. “Besides, we used it to write your new album. I think it holds some sentimental value to you.”
“You’re an idiot,” I laughed, exhaling a sigh. Only Teddy would think writing an album was more imporant than the sentimental value it held to himself. “I’ll think about it, alright?”
“Whatever,” he said, shrugged shoulders settling back into place. “Pass me a beer, will ya? I have first show jitters.”tr
|
|
|
01/12/2021 07:47 PM
|
hudson king. mmm
Hudson sat quietly as he stared at the guitar in front of him, a glass filled to the brim with whiskey brushing his lips. The liquid burned as it invaded his esophagus, but he accepted it eagerly, and his body relaxed as the warmth settled in his stomach. It had been six months since the accident - six months since the last time he picked up that very same guitar to play a show at The Roxy Room. He stared at it every day, watching as it collected dust. He would pass by every time he left his room, but couldn’t find it in him to play a tune.
The accident was still a blur for the most part, one that he tried to desperately erase from his memory, but the details came in flashes. The sound of his car’s brakes screeching, the flashing lights that nearly blinded him as he came too, the blood trickling down his head… He could still hear the screams, though he could never differentiate if they were his own or someone else's. To his right, his best friend laid limp in the car seat. Hudson tried to reach for him, but the further he reached out, the further Teddy slipped away.
The cause of the crash was still unknown to the general public - it was considered a ‘freak accident’ to most. But Sonny knew that wasn’t true. The empty beer cans in his back seat said otherwise.
Hudson King was a murderer.
At this very moment, he should be sitting in a jail cell.
Instead, he sat in his bedroom, just like he had for the last six months, letting the guilt eat away at him with each passing minute. The guitar, a gift from Teddy, would continue to collect dust, just as he would continue to drown his sorrows in the very thing that caused them.
|
|
|
[ This blog post is private ]
|
|
|
01/10/2021 08:37 PM
|
escaping death | drabble
The gun feels heavy in my hands - as if it weighed a thousand pounds. The once cool metal now burned against my palm, and I almost threw the damn thing away, cursing myself in an exhaled breath. It was the first time I had ever held a gun, and the adrenaline that rushed through my body was exhilarating enough to make my hands shake ( maybe it was the fear, but I had hoped that would subside ). In a few hours, I would be free from all of my problems. In a few hours, my father would be dead.
There was a lump in my throat that didn’t seem to go away, and the more I swallowed, the more apparent it became. I knew that this was risky, but it had to be done. I spent months of my life being tossed around like a ragdoll, used at his expense, and if I didn’t get out now, I’d be dead in another month or two. I couldn’t wait that long - I wanted to live.
Making myself comfortable on my bed, I tucked the weapon under a pillow, leaving it within arms reach for when the opportunity presented itself. If I knew my father, he’d be walking in the house in no less than thirty minutes, go straight to the fridge, drink at LEAST half a bottle of whiskey in one sitting, and make his way to my room. It was a routine that I had fallen accustomed to. The silence allowed me to think over the plan thoroughly, but also allowed me to grieve the relationship we once had.
My father wasn’t always a monster; when I was a child, he was my best friend. Anywhere Walter went, so did I. Things only started to change when my mom got sick, and suddenly daddy’s little girl became daddy’s favorite punching bag ( my mom had become too weak to take his hits so his frustrations were taken out on me ). My once favorite person quickly became my mortal enemy, and eventually, when my mom died, things escalated, and I was left to clean up my own blood more than once. He didn’t care, either. He laughed at my pain, told me to ‘suck it up’ and act like a big girl. And most of the time, I did. But I couldn’t handle it anymore. Walter Grey was the f u c k i n g devil, and I wanted to send him back to hell.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walter’s footsteps grew louder as they got closer to my room, and suddenly any plan I had was tossed out the window. A shaky hand wrapped around the handle of the gun, still concealed by the pillow on my bed.
“Lennon! Get your ass out here!” I could tell he was angry, but I stayed still, refusing to move. “Lennon!!” It grew louder, and suddenly Walter was standing in my room, his strides moving in closer to where I sat. “When I call you, you f***i-”
A loud ‘BANG’ surrounded the air around us, echoed off the walls, and cut off his words. Warm liquid splattered across my face, the deep crimson taking me by surprise. I don’t even remember pulling the trigger, but the hole in his chest had made it apparent that I had. I felt frozen in fear as I watched Walter stumble forward, his hand clutching the open wound. I pulled the trigger again, this time to make sure he wouldn’t survive.
My eyes glued to his face as he fell to the floor, blood pooling around his limp body, and only then did I scream.
|
|
|
01/10/2021 05:03 PM
|
Free. | drabble
2018
The quiet seemed louder than usual.
The streets of Limbo were empty for the most part, Lennon and a few other patrons scattered amongst the sidewalks, their feet taking them wherever they had pleased. She kept to herself, only offering a half assed smile to strangers if she passed by. It was her first week in Malvada, and she was still getting used to navigating the towns, still unsure of how she even ended up somewhere no one seemed to know of.
She had hoped that a fresh start would erase the images of her father’s dead body from her mind. Or at least, the image of her hand wrapped around the handle of the gun that had killed him. But sometimes, it seemed like the nightmares followed her now more than ever. He had it coming, Lennon reminded herself, but the guilt still ate at her.
Lennon had spent months, hell - even years, taking abuse from her father. Mentally, physically, and most of the time.. Sexually. She became a shell of a human; her once bubbly personality refused to shine, and she often thought of ways to kill herself to save herself from the misery she ensued on a daily basis. She had come close once or twice, a handful of pills landing her in the hospital. But Lennon always 'miraculously' pulled through ( that's what the doctors had said, anyway ), and was set right back into her own form of purgatory.
The gun was hidden in her father’s stuff, locked away in a safe in the back of his room. The code had always been the same: 5-3-6-6, LENN. The irony made Lennon laugh. When she was born, she had her daddy wrapped around her finger, but then life happened, and her mother died, and her father started drinking more. And now.. Here they were. Taking the gun out of the safe, she checked the chamber, making sure there were enough bullets to get the job done. The thought sent a shiver down the girl’s spine, but she knew there was no time to change her mind.
Limbo held an escape from the life she had once lived, though she couldn't escape the sound of his screams from that fatal night, or the sound of the gun... They played like an old vhs tape that would rewind itself, and start all over again. But, she was free. The streets gave her new places to explore, the people were friendly (aside from a few - she had an unfortunate run in with Delia Deschaine her first night in town), and for the first time in her life, Lennon was thankful to be alive.
|
|
|
01/09/2021 05:40 PM
|
home - part three.
It was insane of me to think that word wouldn’t get around that I had been seeing my *dead* husband. Whispers had a funny way of traveling around Limbo, most of them claiming I was crazy, or that I had lost my goddamn mind. And maybe they were right, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity of being a family again.
It was the first Christmas since Stone had left. I had dreaded this day for months now, unsure of how to fully articulate to Lilah that her daddy wouldn’t be with us this morning. I had panic attacks on top of panic attacks, my mind raced, and I almost gave up on the holiday all together. Until I realized that I could give her a present that would mean more to her than any toy, book, or bicycle ever could.
We spent the morning at our apartment in Salacity, listening to Christmas carols in our matching pjs. I watched as she tore the wrapping paper off of every box, her face illuminating with glee each time she got something off of her wish list from Santa. For the first time in a long time, my heart felt full knowing that Lilah was happy.
But, there was still an ache in my chest, knowing that there was one thing on her list that she couldn’t necessarily have anymore, and that was her Daddy. Sighing, I offered her a small smile, before walking over to the coat closet in our living room, pulling out two jackets - one for me, one for her. “Lilah, baby, come put your coat on okay? There’s one more present I have for you.”
“Otay Mommy!” The excitement in her voice alone was enough to leave tears in my eyes, and I had hoped that she would still be excited when she saw Stone. This felt cruel, to tease my baby with the image of her dead father, but if Stone wanted to be a family, I was going to have to come clean sooner rather than later.
The car ride to the apartment seemed longer today; my mind raced, and I almost thought about turning around and abandoning the idea all together, but I didn’t want to disappoint Stone. I already told him we would come the night before, and I didn’t want to break a promise.
After parking outside the old apartment, I gathered Lilah and a few of her toys from the back seat, and set her down on the sidewalk, kneeling in front of her after closing the car door. “Baby, do you know where we are?”
“Home!” Lilah said, her smile bigger than ever. It made me smile, too.
“Yeah, baby, we’re home.” I leaned in and placed a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her arms gently before I continued. “We’re going to go inside, and there’s going to be.. Someone who wants to say hi, okay? C’mon, let’s get going.”
The inside of the apartment was dimly lit, though this time by a small Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, presents scattered around the bottom. I had spent an hour picking out gifts that Stone had wanted to give Lilah, and came here after work to wrap them and set them up for this morning. Excitedly, Lilah ran to the pile, scoping out to see if Santa left her anything good. “Mommy look!! Presents!!” She said, her giggle echoing off the walls.
“I know baby,” I smiled again, though tears gathered in my vision. The familiar scent of my husband appeared shortly after, a sense of warmth washing over me, and finally, I saw him. Standing in the hallway just out of Lilah’s vision, Stone smiled. “Lilah, I have a really important present for you,” I said, walking over to where Lilah stood. Reaching my hand out, I waited until she placed her palm in mine, and squeezed it gently. “Now, this might be a little scary and confusing, but I promise it’s real, okay?” Her little head nodded, though I’m not sure she quite understood what I meant.
Turning my attention to Stone, I nodded my head gently, and slowly, he made his way around the corner. Lilah was silent for a few moments, and I could tell she was processing what she was seeing. And in a few short moments, her hand left mine, and she ran so fast into her Daddy’s arms, and in that moment, I felt whole again.
|
|
|
12/17/2020 09:50 PM
|
home - part two.
I sat in the uncomfortable silence for what seemed like hours. The sun had slowly begun to set by the time I finally stood, and Stone’s scent had faded almost as quickly as it hit me. Though he’s been gone for weeks now, it was almost as if time had stopped and he was still here; his clothes still hung in the bedroom closet (I made sure to grab my favorite shirt of his before I moved), his boots lined up near the wall closest to his side of the bed. His leather jacket slung over the armchair in the far corner of our room, it’s patches now faded from being over exposed in the sunlight. “I wish you were here,” I said out loud, my chest heavy again.
I slowly walked through the apartment back to the front hall, my fingers trailing in the dust that had accumulated over time. Something caught my attention from the corner of my eye, and for a split second, I thought I saw him. Stop it, Lennon. Don’t let your mind play tricks on you, I thought to myself, shaking my head to clear the thought. It was impossible - Stone was gone, and I had to accept it. I almost walked away, when I saw the movement again, and this time, I turned my head, and stopped directly in my tracks.
“S-Stone?” My voice cracked once I saw him. He sat on the corner of our bed, a grin on his face. He looked exactly like I had remembered him, long locks of brown hair tucked behind his ears, beard hugged to his face. My heart stopped, and I swore I was f***ing dreaming. “Stone..” This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.
“Hey baby..” he said, voice soft.
“How- how are you here? You’re… you’re gone.” Before I knew it, I was already back in our bedroom standing in front of him. I so badly wanted to reach out and touch him, but I was too afraid to try; part of me feared that this was my mind’s twisted way of letting me remember him, and another part of me feared my hand would reach right through his chest like they do in movies. But I also knew that this could be the only time I’d see him again. Hesitantly, my hand raised, and I reached out slowly.
Stone must have noticed my hesitation, his hand reaching out to meet my own. His once warm touch was now ice cold and unfamiliar, and it sent shivers down my spine. I pulled back, but he pulled me in closer, placing my hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry..” His voice was quiet, head hung low. “I’m sorry for leaving you and Lilah. I didn’t… It was an accident,” he said, looking up now.
“I can’t do this,” I pulled my hand back again, slowly backing away from the apparition of my dead husband. The air felt heavy around me, and I wanted to scream, but it was as if my body wouldn’t allow me to. “You left me, Stone. You left when you promised you wouldn’t. I can’t.. How am I supposed to live without you?” Tears slowly trickled down my face, but I couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. “And Lilah… she f***ing loved you and you just left her!”
“Lennon please… I know, I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m so f***ing sorry..” Stone said, standing from his spot on the bed. Slowly, he walked closer so where I stood, his hand reaching for mine. His other hand reached up, cold fingers brushing away my tears. I wanted to shake him off and tell him to leave, but I couldn’t. “I’m still here though.. In the apartment. I’ve been waiting for you to come home, but you never do. I didn’t think I’d see you again, and then you walked through the front door, and for the first time in a long time, I felt whole again.. I felt.. Alive.” He tried to smile, but the corners of his lips tugged to a frown. “We could still be happy here. We could still be a family.”
|
|
|
12/17/2020 09:49 PM
|
home - part one
Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? So much of it can pass, and yet you can still feel like you’re trapped in your own secluded bubble, where the sun never sets, and the clocks on the walls stop ticking. That’s how it feels to be back in Limbo; when Stone died, I packed a few bags for myself and Lilah, and moved to a sh*tty apartment in Salacity, and swore I wouldn’t return unless I had to. There were plenty of places for me to shop and get diapers in town, there was no need for me to travel unless I really had to, so I stayed put. I built my own little bubble in Salacity, and I was happy… at least, I pretended to be.
It’s been six weeks since I’ve lost my husband, and I couldn’t fight the itch anymore. I needed to feel him again, I needed to be home. The air in Limbo smelt exactly the same as the day I left, musty with a hint of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air and never seemed to disappear. The air felt heavier than it did back in Salacity, but I welcomed it with open arms.
The walk to our old apartment took no time at all, my feet practically ran down the sidewalk and up the stairs to the front door, and it was almost as if the bare walls were calling my name, begging me to come back. I hesitated once I reached the front door, though. My hand shook, and I could feel sweat dripping from my palm. As much as I missed this place, I wasn’t sure if I was ready. The one place that was supposed to bring me solace was also the place that brought me the worst pain.
After a few deep breaths, I opened the door, surprised that my key still worked. Though I technically had never sold the place, I expected the town to take it away from me since I stopped paying the rent. My heart felt heavy as the lock twisted, and I really wanted to turn around and go back to my actual home, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t allow myself. So instead, I put on my big girl panties, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me.
The living room was dimly lit by the cracks in the curtains, and everything sat just the way I had left it before leaving town; dishes still sat in the dish rack, though once clean, they now collected dust. The house plants that scattered around were mostly dead, though the ones closest to the window still thrived from the slight amount of sunlight. I didn’t make it too far inside though before I caught his scent. The mixture of bergamot and rosemary invaded my nostrils and knocked the wind right out of me, and suddenly I was on my knees, hand clinging to my chest.
I didn’t realize how much I had missed it, or how much I had missed him. I masked my pain for so f***ing long that I never properly grieved his untimely death, and being engulfed in his scent for the first time in a month and a half hurt. It hurt so f***ing bad.
*author's note: I never write in first person so this might be terrible and I'm SO sorry if it is, but I wanted to get something new out. xx thanks for reading, if you do.
|
|
Back to Posts
|