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| Pretty Tied Up; A Guns 'n Roses story; Izzy/Axl (slash) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: June 11, 2012, 7:40 pm (2,330 Views) | |
| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 15, 2012, 8:13 am Post #16 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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That was very horrible...poor William and Amy I don't know what the law was like in the '70s but I wonder if they could get the cruel dad arrested and sent to jail?
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| Lilith | June 15, 2012, 1:32 pm Post #17 |
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♥ Jaimelicious ♥
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;_;Oh, poor William! His father is a monster. Poor kids!! ;_; |
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| Dave's Girl | June 15, 2012, 8:55 pm Post #18 |
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Sanity is entirely overrated...
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Just letting everyone know that we're back to Izzy's POV for this chapter. ![]() @Wishful: I know, isn't it horrible how the mom acts oblivious to what her husband does? It's horrible and true. :S Thank you so much for reading! @The Cosmic Gerbil: I feel very bad for them too. D: I don't really know what the laws were in like in the '70s either...unfortunately, Mrs. Bailey didn't do anything about it though. Thank you for the review! @Lilith: I know, the father is a bastard! I hate people like that. :S Thanks so much for reading! ^^ Chapter V I walk up to the bright red door of our house and open it quietly. Mother always keeps the door unlocked. I guess when you live in a small town, you get to know your neighbors and start to trust everyone around you. Silently, I step into the house and shut the door behind me. I set my school bag on the ground and pad through the hallway to the kitchen. Before entering, I wait a few minutes and listen to what my grandmother and my mother are talking about. "How has Jeffery been?" grandmother is asking my mom. I peek around the corner of the hallway to see that she's sipping tea and eating one of my mom's freshly baked cookies. "I worry about that boy, you know. He's a good student, but he doesn't seem to have anything he enjoys doing. Has he made any friends around here?" "Well, I don't like to pry into his life too much," mother replies vaguely as she takes a sip from her own tea cup. For some reason, my mom has always been a big fan of tea. I think she inherited that from my grandmother. Mother goes on, "I think Jeffery likes to spend time by himself mostly. He's not the most social boy." "You're right. He's not," grandma says, taking another bite of her cookie. "Still though, I'd like to see him doing something he actually enjoys doing or perhaps he could find a few friends he could enjoy spending time with. He started at Jefferson High School today, didn't he?" "Yes, he did," mother nods. "He should be home at any moment. I told him he could walk to school since the school is only five minutes from here." As I listen to the conversation, I realize that it is going in my favor. Grandmother thinks I should spend more time doing things I enjoy doing. Would this be a good time to mention playing the drums? I'll have to wait for the perfect moment, but perhaps tonight is the night to ask for a drum kit! With high hopes, I step around the corner and walk to the empty chair by the table. I sit down between mother and grandmother and give them both polite smiles as I say, "Hey, I'm back from school." "Ah, Jeffery, there you are! Your mother and I were just talking about you," grandma tells me, obviously unaware that I was listening into their conversation. Grandma smiles at me and says, "You're silent as a fox, you know that? I didn't even see you come into the room. How was your first day of school?" "It was alright," I shrug, not feeling all that excited about school. It had been a pretty boring day for the most part. In fact, the most exciting thing from school had been watching William try and frustrate the teachers. Seeing that grandma is waiting for more, I add, "I had four subjects today." "Do you have any homework?" mother asks. Although she doesn't typically pry into my school life, she does like to make sure I do my homework. "Just a little," I admit reluctantly. "It's algebra homework. I don't like algebra so much." "When I was your age, I didn't like algebra either. I just thought it was a whole lot of nonsense," grandmother says, handing me the plate of freshly baked cookies. "I remember how much more interested I was in music. It always seemed like I was accomplishing something when I was creating music. I wasn't just scribbling random numbers on a piece of paper." I take a cookie, but forget to eat it as my heart starts beating a little faster. Would now be the right time to ask for a drum kit? Grandmother has just mentioned how much fun she had playing the drums. I open my mouth to say something, but mother is already speaking. "Did you recognize anyone from middle school? Maybe some of your old friends?" mother asks me. "Oh, um, one boy. His name is Brian. We're not really friends though," I shrug, thinking of the way Brian had been teasing William earlier. I didn't like that. "It's not good for a boy your age not to have friends," grandma frowns as she takes another cookie and chews it slowly. I honestly don't know why everyone is making such a fuss about whether or not I have friends. I'm shy and quiet. You can't expect someone like me to have lots of friends. That's just not the way things work. I've never had friends and probably never will have more than one or two close friends. It doesn't bother me though. Unable to keep it inside anymore, I burst out, "Mother, may I have a drum kit?" Mother jerks her head up and gives me a dubious look. Grandmother smiles at me approvingly and chuckles softly. Still looking like she thinks she hasn't heard me right, mother gives me a queer look and asks, "What did you just say, Jeffery?" "I asked if I could have a drum kit," I say. "I've wanted one for so long. I'd love to be able to play music. Ever since I was six, I've wanted to play music. Please? Grandma plays the drums!" "The boy is right," grandma admits, still smiling. I see a twinkle in her eye as she adds, "I think a drum kit could be a good thing for him. Perhaps he'll be part of a band someday." "A band? What sort of band?" mother frowns, clearly thinking that she'd rather not have her son grow up to be part of a rock band. However, her face softens when she sees the way grandmother and I are both looking at her. Finally, she resigns and says, "Well, we'll see." I know my mother well enough to know that her answer translates to a yes! I set my uneaten cookie back on the plate and throw my arms around mother's neck, saying, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I can't wait to start playing!" Mother looks a little taken aback by my enthusiasm. It's not often that I get so excited about something. Surprise written all over her face, mother says, "Well, I didn't actually say yes, Jeffery! I said 'We'll see'. There's a difference between that and yes! However, we may be able to work something out. Go work on your homework for a bit, alright? I'm going to think this over." Not wanting to push her, I nod quickly and run off to my room to do my homework. It's hard to concentrate on algebra when thoughts of a brand new drum kit are running through my head. Even though my mother didn't give me a straightforward answer, I'm pretty sure she'll still get the drum kit for me. I don't ask for many things, so when I do happen to request something, she usually says yes. After what seems like ages, I finally manage to finish my algebra. It wasn't insanely difficult, but it wasn't super easy either. Once it's finished, I carefully fold up my piece of paper and put it back into my schoolbag to keep it from getting lost, wrinkled, or who knows what else. After that, I climb into bed and stare up at my ceiling. For some reason, a pixie face with long red hair comes to the front of my mind. I don't know why I'm thinking about William. I guess maybe I'm feeling sorry for him after Brian and his gang were teasing him earlier. Although I had been the quiet, shy one, I had never been teased before. Regardless, I have always thought teasing was a cruel thing to do to a fellow student. As I lay here in bed and stare up at the dark ceiling, I wonder what William is doing right now. Is he too in bed and staring at his ceiling? Maybe he's thinking of that gangly dark-haired boy who helped to save him from getting into trouble at art. Well, probably not, but there's always a possibility. The more I think about William, the more I feel bad for him. He looked so sad when he overheard Brian and the gang making fun of him. I can still remember the way his dark eyes widened at their comments and the way he bit his lip to keep all the pain inside. Unlike me, he actually needs a friend. He needs someone to talk to and someone to support him. Maybe I can be that friend. I decide to try and talk to William in the next few days. I'm not so great at talking to strangers because of my shyness. However, if the opportunity arises, I'll make sure to take advantage of it. With those thoughts swimming around in my head, I fall into a peaceful slumber. "Jeff? Jeff, wake up. It's time to get ready for school," my mother calls from the doorway the next morning. My eyelids feel heavy as I force them open. Is it really time to get ready for school already? I feel like I just went to bed! Maybe I stayed up too late thinking about William and my drum kit. Concealing a sleepy yawn, I sit up in bed and push dark bangs out of my eyes. "Jeffery, please hurry! You have five minutes," mother calls from outside the bedroom door. Five minutes may not seem like much, but it's enough for me. I change quickly and throw on a pair of dark jeans and a random T-shirt. Trying to comb my hair is pointless, so I don't bother with that. For some reason, it always seems to lie down pretty flat anyways. In only three minutes, I am at the door and am ready for school. When mother sees me, she frowns and says, "You didn't eat any breakfast! Make sure you eat your lunch, alright? I can't have you starving." "Yes, mother," I say obediently. I contemplate bringing the drum kit up to her again, but decide not to push it. I highly doubt she's forgotten about it already. After waving goodbye to my mom, I step out of the doorway and out into a warm September morning. It's humid outside and I'm glad I didn't wear a coat. This time, I don't bother to check both ways before crossing the street. Nobody is going to be there. Nobody ever is. As I walk along, I start thinking about the drum kit again. Is there a possibility that mother might go out and buy me one soon? I know I should stop hoping so I don't get too disappointed in case I can't get a drum kit, but it's hard to help the excitement pulsing through my veins. Not much later, I arrive at the school. It looks exactly like it did yesterday. As before, everyone is sitting outside of the school and is clustering around the school entrance and the stairs leading up to the school. I can see Brian and his gang laughing loudly at some joke Brian must have just made. I know I'm welcome in their group, but I don't really feel like talking to them. Instead, I walk unnoticed to the opposite side of the stairs and stand there by myself. As usual, I end up staring at the ground again. Instead of concrete, I am looking at the grass today. It's dark green and lush because we've had a lot of rain around here recently. Mother always goes on about how she's glad it rains so that she doesn't have to bother watering our plants. Unfortunately, I lose interest in the grass pretty quickly and end up looking around myself. A couple is making out directly to my right. I take a step away from them and notice a skinny figure shuffling down the road to the school. The figure catches my interest and a moment later, I see red hair. It's William! William trudges up to the school, but stands a little distance away from everyone else. Today, he keeps his eyes on the ground. He glances up at Brian and the other boys out of the corner of his eye. I can see him glaring at them. It's like he's daring them to try to make fun of him again. It's funny because even though I decided to make an effort to talk to him yesterday, I can't seem to walk over to him and make the first step today. Saying hello shouldn't be so hard, but for some reason, it is. Ring, ring, ring! The bell to the school suddenly rings and everyone starts stampeding through the doorway. I don't know what their hurry is. Although I don't want to be late to class, I'm not about to run over everyone else in an attempt to be the first one there. As I follow the large mass of students inside, I keep my eye on the red-head to my right. He keeps his eyes on the ground and shuffles along. Unlike yesterday, he seems to have lost that fiery attitude of his. He just looks depressed and quiet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brian whispering to Sam and Paul. All three of them have evil grins on their faces and are staring at William. I don't know what they're up to, but this isn't going to go well. I need to warn William before they try and do something nasty to him. I try to get to William before Brian can, but it's too late. Brian can shove people out of his way and shoving just isn't something I do. William is paying no attention to Brian and keeps his eyes on the ground. With a gleeful smile on his face, Brian sticks his foot out in front of William in an attempt to trip him. William isn't going to see Brian's foot until it's too late. He's going to- Crash! William trips over Brian's foot and tumbles to the ground. Brian smirks down at him and says, "Watch where you're going, freak!" William glances up at Brian through stringy red hair covering his face. If looks could kill, Brian would certainly have been dead. William has that fiery look back in his eye as he gets right back up to his feet. I try to reach him to ask him if he's alright, but William's already gone. However, I do notice something different about him. There are bruise marks on the side of his face. His hair covers them for the most part, but they're visible if you look close enough. I chew my lip as I walk to algebra. William either got into a fight with someone or he's being abused. I don't know what his family circle is like, but I have a bad feeling about it. William needs help and I might be the only one who can help him. Screw my shyness. I'm going to talk to him later today. To be continued... |
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| Wishful | June 16, 2012, 8:00 am Post #19 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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That's it Izzy extend an olive branch William needs u! He needs a way to escape the monster! |
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| Lilith | June 16, 2012, 2:47 pm Post #20 |
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♥ Jaimelicious ♥
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:3 God, I love Izzy! I hope he and William find a way out.
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 17, 2012, 2:23 pm Post #21 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Izzy's gran is cool I hope that Izzy's mom will buy him a drum kit. Brian is mean though...I think he's a bully
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| Dave's Girl | June 17, 2012, 9:36 pm Post #22 |
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Sanity is entirely overrated...
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Hey everyone! This chapter is back in William's POV...@Wishful: Exactly! William really needs a friend right now and Izzy may be the only one who can help him. Thanks for reading! ^^ @Lilith: Hehe, me too. He's so cute! Thank you so much for the review!@The Cosmic Gerbil: I agree! I wish my grandma was like that. xD And yes! Brian is definitely a bully. I hate people like that. :S Chapter VI I slink through the hallway brushing up against the walls and trying to make myself unnoticeable. Just as I had expected, it had only taken one day to make me the official freak at school. Already the fuckers in class were picking on me, calling me names, and tripping me in the hallways. What would be next? Were they going to pick a fight with me? I could fight fight. They could shove me into a corner, but I'd fuckin' fight back until I'd given them all bloody noses and black eyes. Revenge. That word seems to be pasted to the front of my mind as I pad quietly down the hallway. All my life I've wanted revenge; revenge on my bastard of a father, revenge on my bitch of a mother, and revenge on God 'cause if he really exists, he's obviously abandoned me. I let my feet lead me wherever they want to go as I try and think of some way to get back at the guys who had fucked with me earlier. People don't screw with me and get away with it. Well, okay, that's a lie. My father has gotten away with it for almost fourteen years. The kids at school are not my parents though. They're my equals. You know what they say. It's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. I'm the one who should make the next move. I'm not much of a fighter, but I'm sure I can come up with some way to get back at Brian and his gang. Looking up, I come to a sudden halt and realize that I almost just walked into a wall. Feeling extremely stupid, I come to a halt and glance around murderously, daring anyone to laugh at me for almost walking into the wall. Nobody's looking at me though. Brian is gone and everyone else is minding their own business. Good. I try and forget about those assholes for a few minutes while I try and remember where I'm suppose to be going. Oh right, I have choir this morning. Yeah, I know you're probably thinking it's weird that we have choir at school, huh? Well, we do. I guess that's what happens when you live in a small town with lots of churches around. Despite the fact that I know where I'm suppose to be, I have no clue how to get there. I shuffle along and listen for singing. The hallways have pretty much been cleared out and I seem to be the only one wandering about. This doesn't really bother me though. I'm not in a hurry to get to choir even though it's probably going to be the best class of the day. Art and algebra have already proved to be nothing but a bore. "Mr. Bailey, what are you doing wandering the hallway at this time of day?" a sharp voice asks me. Glancing up from under red bangs, I see a dark-haired teacher with piercing dark eyes. I don't know her, but she already knows my name. I guess my reputation precedes me in this place. The teacher goes on, "Class started five minutes ago. "I know. I was trying to find my class," I mumble, not looking the teacher in the eye. "Well, let me help you then," the dark-haired teacher sighs, looking like someone has just forced her to offer her help to me. "Where are you trying to get to?" "Choir," I reply simply, shoving my hands in my pockets and waiting for her to lead me to the class. The woman in front of me blinks and looks shocked. I know what she's thinking. She's wondering what the hell someone like me is doing in choir. Just as I suspected, she frowns and repeats, "Choir? Are you sure that you're supposed to be in choir, Mr. Bailey?" "It's Bill," I blurt out, hating it when people call me Mr. Bailey. That's my father, not me. I'm nothing like my father. We're complete opposites! Glaring at the teacher in front of me, I add, "Yeah, I'm sure I'm supposed to be in choir. You got a problem with that?" "Watch your attitude, Mr. B-" the teacher tries to catch herself as she turns and starts in the direction of the choir room, saying, "I mean, Bill. I just want to make sure you get to the right class." I stick my tongue out at the teacher's back and trudge reluctantly after her. I know that she's lying to me. She doesn't just want me to get to the right class. God, no. She probably thinks I can't sing to save my life. Well, guess what? She's wrong. I can sing. As a matter of fact, I've been singing at the church with my brother and sister for as long as I can remember. People call us the Bailey Trio. After a few minutes, we finally reach the room where choir practice is taking place. The teacher opens the door for me as if she thinks I can't even open a fucking door on my own and then she waves me inside. I don't thank her. She's been getting on my nerves. Instead, I slip her a snide look before I trudge into the classroom. Someone is singing and although they're horribly out of tune, I feel a momentary peacefulness from somewhere deep inside me. Music is what gets me through each day. It's what gets me through all the beatings and abuse and it's what gets me through all the sleepless nights when I hear my sister crying out from the room adjacent to mine. When I step into the room, silence falls. An average-sized woman with shoulder-length brown hair turns to look at me. I think she's in her forties, but I'm not a pro at judging peoples' age. The woman gives me a funny look and says, "Who are you?" "Bill Bailey," I mumble, looking around the room to see if I recognize anyone in the class. Thankfully, they're all just a sea of unknown faces staring curiously out at me. "Hm, Bill Bailey..." the teacher murmurs as she picks up a sheet of paper from next to her and glances at it. At least she's not yelling at me for being late to class. If another teacher calls my father, he'll kill me. Honest to god, I have no doubts that he'll kill me. The teacher goes on, "I don't have any Bill Baileys on my list. I do have a William Bailey on here though..." "Yeah, that's me. It's the same thing really," I reply, wishing that I didn't have the name William. I hate that name. "I see. Well, Bill, you can join the rest of the students in one of the back rows. I will listen to you sing in a minute," the teacher tells me before she introduces herself, "I'm Mrs. Prince." I nod and make my way to the bleacher-like seats in the back of the classroom. Not wanting to have anyone sitting behind me, I climb to the top row of seats and sit on the edge of them. The dude next to me is giving me an annoyed look. Fuck him. I haven't even talked to him yet and he's already treating me like shit. "Matt? Will you please continue from where you left off?" Mrs. Prince asks the boy who was singing terribly out of tune when I walked into the classroom. Everyone falls silent, and for once, I find myself paying a bit of attention. The boy starts singing once more and this time, he's even more out of tune. I'm tempted to start singing myself. I could sing louder than him and drown out his terrible out-of-pitch tune. I open my mouth and then shut it once more. The kid next to me will probably burst out laughing if I start singing. Luckily, I don't have to wait long for my turn to sing. As soon as Matt has finished his song, Mrs. Prince turns to me and says, "I would like to hear you sing next, Bill. Do you have a song in mind that you would like to sing for me or should I choose something for you?" "I can sing something I choose," I reply in a quiet voice, having no idea why Mrs. Prince thinks I can't pick out my own song. She gives me a suspicious look and murmurs, "Hm. What are you going to sing?" "I dunno," I shrug, trying to think of something I've sang recently at church. One song comes to mind and I suggest, "Amazing Grace?" Mrs. Prince nods in approval and waits for me to sing. I take a deep breath and then just let the words flow from my lips. I put my heart and soul into that damn song and let all my repressed emotions flow into it. When I sing about salvation, I can't help but hope that someone will come and save me. I need help; lots and lots of help. Someone needs to have grace on someone like me. Someone needs to pull me out of the pits of hell and help me to see the light again. I know God's forgotten about me, so I pretend I'm singing for help to someone else. Mrs. Prince lets me sing the entire song. She doesn't stop me in the middle of it like she did with Matt. I'm allowed to sing the very last note of the song without feeling pressured to hurry up and finish it. I hold that last note and put as much emotion into it before I open my eyes and look at Mrs. Prince. Silence falls in the room. Um...okay. I would like at least some sort of reaction to my song. Even if Mrs. Prince thinks it was shitty, she should just say so. No comments are worse than being bashed in my opinion. More silence falls. Is she gonna say anything or not? Just as I'm starting to get embarrassed, Mrs. Prince finally says, "Bill, that has to have been the most beautiful version of Amazing Grace that I've ever heard! Your voice is wonderful. I'd love to give you some solos to sing if you don't mind. You have a talent for singing." A small smile turns up the corners of my lips, "Yeah, you can give me a solo if you want." Mrs. Prince gives me an approving smile before going on to listen to someone else sing. I can feel eyes staring at me. I flick my gaze over to my right and notice that the kid next to me is looking at me in a different way now. He looks jealous. Ha! Serves him right! I smirk in his face and watch him glare at me. I like making people angry. Don't ask me why. I just do. Choir ends much too soon and it's time for Spanish class. As I trudge down the hall, I wonder what's the point of Spanish. My goal in life is not to move to Spain or Mexico, so why the hell am I learning Spanish? All those illegal immigrants keep clogging up our community and forcing us to learn their language since they're too damn lazy to learn English. Hmph. If you ask me, they should just go right on back to where they came from. I have an easier time finding the Spanish classroom than the choir room. As soon as I'm in the room, I'm tempted to groan aloud. Guess who's sitting in the middle of the room with a big grin on his much-too-big lips? Brian. I ignore him and hope he's going to ignore me as I walk to the back of the classroom. Unfortunately, I get no such luck. Brian whistles loudly as I pass by his desk. Unable to help it, I turn and look over at him to see if he's trying to get my attention. Brian smirks and says loudly, "Oh, sorry. I thought you were a girl. Have you ever considered being in a shampoo commercial with that girly hair of yours?" Literally the whole class erupts into laughter. Why is the whole world always out to get me? I chew my lip and hiss, "Fuck off." Brian keeps laughing and so does everyone else. I go to sit in the back of the classroom, knowing that everyone's laughter is directed at me. Even when Ms. Evans, the teacher, enters the room, I can still hear the raucous laughing echoing about in my ears. Spanish doesn't take too long and next it's lunch. I don't feel so great though. In fact, I feel like shit. My thoughts are swimming in my head and my vision is blurring slightly. I'm not sure if it's from being whacked on the head over and over again last night or if it's from not eating anything at all today. When class is over, I slowly get to my feet and feel my head continue to spin. My stomach feels empty and protests to me as I sling my bag over my shoulder. I don't usually bother to buy lunch from the cafeteria, but today, I think I need it. As I walk to the cafeteria, I pull my lunch money out of my bag and hold it in one hand. I'm too distracted to realize that someone is walking right behind me. Smack! A foot collides with the back of my leg and I'm sent lurching forwards. I put my hand out to stop my fall and in doing so, I drop my lunch money. Brian reaches out and grabs the money. He smirks evilly at me with his two partners laughing behind him. I glower and watch as my lunch money walks away from me. Fuck. Having no choice, I continue walking towards the cafeteria and ignore the painful knotting in my stomach. I'm used to pain, used to aches on every inch of my body. I'll get through the day and then maybe mother will give me something for dinner. Even if I have to sit by my father, eating something will make it worth it tonight. To be continued... |
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| Jik Hyun | June 17, 2012, 9:51 pm Post #23 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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poor axl. intresting fic so far. is nice to see some new slash fics. |
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| Wishful | June 18, 2012, 6:04 am Post #24 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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Ffs! Poor Bill I hate bullies so much! GRRRRR
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| Lilith | June 18, 2012, 1:53 pm Post #25 |
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♥ Jaimelicious ♥
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Oh, poor Axl! Just when something good seems to happen to him, it has to betaken as another way to bully him.
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| Dave's Girl | June 19, 2012, 7:15 pm Post #26 |
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Sanity is entirely overrated...
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Thanks for the reviews, guys! This chapter is also going to be in William's POV. @Jik Hyun: I'm so glad you're liking this fic so far! Thank you for the review!@Wishful: I know, I hate bullies too! They're awful. =/ Thank you for reading! ![]() @Lilith: Yup, poor guy! His day is going to get even worse too! Thank you so much for reading. ![]() Chapter VII I hate school here. It's only my second day and I'm already positive that high school is going to be worse than middle school. Already I've been labeled as the freak. Everyone passes me snide looks in the hallways and whenever I catch someone looking at me, they quickly turn away and start giggling. I don't belong here and everyone knows it. Sometimes I think about running away. I'm not wanted here, that much is obvious. Father would be glad to have me gone and mother probably wouldn't give a shit. I continue mulling over the running away possibility as I walk through the hallways until I force myself to have a reality check. Where the hell am I going to go even if I do run away? I've never been outside of Lafayette before let alone out of Indiana. If I run away, I'll have to avoid all search parties and anyone who might come searching for me. Sighing, I realize that running away would be stupid. I'm not stupid enough to do something like that. No, I'll just stay here in Lafayette and count the days as they drag by and pray that someday God will remember me and will deliver me out of the hands of evil. My leg hurts. Brian had kicked me pretty hard earlier. I'm definitely going to have a big bruise on my calf later. Fuck. Just what I need is another bruise to add to the collection of black and blue marks already sprinkled across my body. Father is relentless. Before long, my entire body will be black and blue probably. Still making my way to the cafeteria, I suddenly am aware of someone walking right behind me. I immediately stiffened and clench my jaw. Brian might be able to steal my lunch money, but he's not going to screw with me again. Only Brian or one of his friends would be stalking after me like this. Not wanting to give away the fact that I know I'm being followed, I continue walking along, but keep my body tense and ready for a fight. Just like I suspected, a hand comes out and fingers tap my shoulder. I act impulsively and immediately whirl around, slamming my fist into someone's face. Anger pulses through my veins and I drive my fist forwards, not caring if I break the fucker's nose. Panting, I pull my fist away when I feel something wet and sticky dripping onto it. Looking down, I see dark red blood splattered all over my hand. Ick. It's one thing to be covered with your own blood, but it's a lot worse to have someone else's blood all over your hands. A bit on the disgusted side, I wipe my hands on my shirt and then look at my victim. I mostly expect it to be Brian, so when I see dark hair, I'm puzzled. Innocent brown eyes peer at me from under scraggly black hair. Oh, so it's not one of Brian's gang members after all. It's Jeffrey. I'm still not sure what to think of Jeffrey. I've seen him hanging out with Brian, but he doesn't seem to be like Brian and the others. Still though, you're never safe in this relentless world. Everyone's out to get you. "Why the fuck were you sneaking up on me?" I glare at Jefferey, not feeling the least bit bad that blood is dribbling from his nose. Jeffrey takes one look at me and steps backwards as if he's just seen a ghost. Alright, so I'm not heartless and I'm starting to feel a bit bad for punching him in the nose. I'm not feeling bad enough to apologize to him over it though. If he had wanted to save his pretty little face, he shouldn't have snuck up on me. It's his fault, not mine. Jeffrey opens his mouth to speak and takes one look at me standing with my arms over my chest and wearing a defensive look on my face. Obviously changing his mind about speaking to me, Jeffrey just shakes his head and turns before retreating down the hallway with a hand over his nose to try and catch the blood streaming all over the place. For some reason, I find myself rooted to the spot as I stare after Jeffery. Part of me wishes he had stayed and talked to me. I want to know why he was sneaking up on me. Had he become part of Brian's plots to humiliate me? Had he been going to shove me or try and steal something else from me? Glaring at the wall, I turn and start back to the cafeteria. I quickly put Jeffrey out of my head. Why should I give a shit about him? A little voice in the back of my head reminds me that Jeffrey is the only one in this entire school who has actually been somewhat nice to me. He did stop Brian and the gang from gossiping about me the other day and he did save my ass during art... Still though, I can't make myself feel bad for punching him. I toss my hair over my shoulder and enter the cafeteria. I'm immediately engulfed in a chaos of noises and a mass of people. Everyone is chatting over lunch or trying to find a table to sit at. I look for somewhere to sit, but all the tables are occupied. Since I don't dare to sit at a table with someone else already sitting at it, I go to the corner of the cafeteria and sit on the ground. Nobody seems to have noticed me and I'm left in peace for the moment. Looking down, I see that there's still blood on my hands. My nose wrinkles and I realize for the first time that I absolutely hate having someone else's blood on my hands. Am I turning into my father? I know exactly what he looks like after he pummels me in the face and ends up with my blood all over his hands. God, what the hell is happening to me? I'm not going to let myself turn into my father! I'm not! I'm not at all like him...or am I? I struggle with my inner demons throughout all of lunch. Meanwhile, my stomach continues knotting within me and I start feeling really weak. If only Brian hadn't stolen my damn lunch money! Then maybe I could at least think straight and pull my thoughts together. Ding, ding, ding! The ringing of the bell signals that lunch has come to an end much too soon. Sighing to myself, I get to my feet and sling my school bag over my shoulder. My next subject is history. I follow the crowd streaming through the hallways and eventually find the history classroom. The rest of the school day passes by rather quickly despite my faintness. I manage not to pass out although I have no idea what we learned about in history today. I do, however, notice that Jeffrey does not come to any more classes. Did I really hit him so hard that he had to go home? I had never thought of myself as strong before. Still though, where else would Jeffrey be? I manage to avoid getting into trouble with any of the teachers the rest of the day, but if word gets to my father about me punching Jeffrey, I'm going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. My stomach seems to flip over and I gulp as I imagine his angry face and his devilishly large fist. I don't think Jeffrey is the tattling type, but one thing I've learned in this life is that things are never one hundred percent certain. Now that school's over, I'm going to go straight home. I want to get away from this school and away from all the glares and pointing fingers of the other students. It doesn't take me too long to reach home and I find myself at the familiar door not too much later. Once there, I hesitate. Although I don't want to be at the school, I don't really want to be here either. Finally, I summon up the courage to open the door. I pray to God that father won't be angry today. I feel sick and can't stand any more of his abuse. Maybe I can handle it tomorrow, but not tonight. I reach forwards and turn the door handle. Very slowly, I step into the entrance of my house and shut the door. My eyes find the living room and what I see makes me sick. Amy is kneeling in front of the couch in a little ball. Her face is flushed and I know exactly what father's been doing to her. Speaking of father, where the hell is the bastard? He's not in the living room with Amy. But if he's not in the living room with Amy, then where is he? Smash! A fist collides with the back of my skull. Father must have snuck up on me. I'm too weak to resist the black dots flying up to greet me. I slump against the wall and feel myself sliding to the ground before all goes black and I feel nothing more. Tick, tock, tick, tock. When I wake next, I hear the sound of a clock ticking. Where am I? My head is spinning and I feel lost. My senses don't seem to be responding like they normally do. Even though I'm touching something, I can't tell what it is. Even though I'm looking, I'm not seeing. Am I dead? I groan and close my eyes, trying to remember what happened to me. Oh, right. Father was raping Amy when I walked in from school. Since I was invading their privacy, father had punched me and I had blacked out. Now I am lying somewhere in the dark. I open an eye one more time and decide to try and figure out where I am. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I suddenly recognize my bedroom. Ugh, did it really take me five minutes to recognize my own bedroom? Apparently so. It's not my fault though. My head is spinning and I feel so dizzy. All I want to do is lie down. Wanting to get to my bed, I try to stand up and come crashing right back down to the floor. My leg throbs where I was kicked earlier. Thanks a fucking lot for making my life just that much harder, Brian! Feeling pitiful, I crawl across the floor until I reach my bed. Once there, I grab the covers and yank myself onto the small bed. Quiet whimpers suddenly break the silence in my bedroom. I frown and glance around, trying to detect where they're coming from. My bedroom door cracks open and a tear-streaked face can be seen there. Amy looks like hell. Her face is sweaty, her hair is a mess, and the look in her eyes is haunted. Without saying a word, Amy crosses the room to my bed and puts her hand on mine before our eyes meet. I give her a sympathetic look. I'm not sure what to say to her. There's nothing to say really. Nothing I can do will make a difference in her life. I can't tell her that it's going to be okay because it's not going to be okay. We both know that. "Bill? Are you alright?" Amy finally asks, feeling the need to speak. I'm not okay, but I'm not gonna tell Amy that. Instead, I give her a small smile and pretend to be strong as I say, "Yeah. You?" Amy bites her lip and nods. I know she's lying too. Neither of us are okay. There's nothing we can do about it though. Even if we tell mother what father's doing to us, I know she won't do a thing about it. She loves him and he's the only one who supports her since she barely makes any money herself. Amy crosses the floor and starts to leave. She's almost to the door when she suddenly stops. She turns back towards me and suddenly she's in my arms as she cries her heart out. I'm not much of a comforter, especially since I'm about to pass out again, but I hold Amy against my chest and try to smooth her hair as she sobs. If I was a parent, I would never ever treat my child in this way. Children should be cherished and protected, not abused. After a few minutes, Amy's sobs quiet and her breathing becomes rhythmic. I glance down at her and notice that she's sleeping. Good. Maybe her dreams will be sweet. However, as I look down at my wreck of a sister, tears fill my own eyes. Nightmares always haunt my slumber. I suppose it's probably the same for Amy. Glancing up at the ceiling, I decide to say a prayer. I know that God has probably abandoned me, but I'm going to give it one more shot. After taking a shaky breath, I murmur, "God, it's me. I can't keep doing this anymore. Amy and I can't keep this up. We need help and you're the only one who can help us. Please give us a way out of this." I wait for an answer, but nothing comes. Yup, God's abandoned me after all. I adjust Amy against my shoulder and lean against the pillow. Before I know it, we're both asleep. To be continued... |
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| Wishful | June 20, 2012, 4:07 am Post #27 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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God I just wanna cry I really do!
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 20, 2012, 10:47 am Post #28 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Sorry I missed a chapter...I haven't been on for a couple of days Poor kids I really don't understand people who abuse kids and teenagers...it's just so horrible ![]() It was great when William sang really well though and impressed everybody I really hope he fights Brian soon and wins.
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| Lilith | June 20, 2012, 2:29 pm Post #29 |
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♥ Jaimelicious ♥
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;_; This chapter is so sad. ;_; I hope God listens to him, and saves Axl and Amy from that pain... Moar!
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| Dave's Girl | June 20, 2012, 7:52 pm Post #30 |
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Sanity is entirely overrated...
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Hey everyone! Thank you all for reading. ^^ This chapter is back in Izzy's POV. @Wishful: Me too, poor William had such a hard childhood. =/ I hope you like this chapter! ![]() @The Cosmic Gerbil: That's alright, I totally understand! Thank you so much for catching up though. I don't understand people like that either. =/ And yes! Hopefully, William will recognize his singing talent soon. ^^@Lilith: I know! Axl and Amy both need lots of help. Thank you for reading! *hugs*Chapter VIII Blood pours out of my nose and I'm feeling stupid. Why did I ever talked myself into attempting to be friends with William? I had approached him in the hallway just before lunch and guess what the little bastard had done? He had whirled around and slammed his fist into my face. I could understand it if he wanted to punch Brian, Paul, or Sam, but why me? What had I ever done to the little redhead besides stand up for the him? Oh well, there's no point thinking about this now. What's done is done. I've spent all lunch in the bathroom as I try to clean up my bloody nose. Unfortunately, I don't know anything about how to stop a bloody nose and just stand over the sink, trying to wipe the blood up with gobs of paper towel. I think I'd gone through a whole roll of paper towel by the time the bell rings, signaling me to go to my next class. Sighing, I decide to try and forget the bloody nose as I wander the hallways in an attempt to find the biology classroom. I haven't had biology yet. Drip, drip, drip. Looking down, I'm distracted by more blood dribbling onto my clothes. The pain from being punched in the face has already receded, but the blood just continues to pool and pool. "Hey Jeff! Jeff, wait up!" I hear a familiar voice from behind me calling. I have a feeling that it's Brian. I come to a halt and wait for Brian to catch up to me. Hopefully, he won't make a big deal out of my nose or ask who punched me. If he asks, I'm going to lie about it. I know, I know, it's stupid to continue protecting William's ass especially after he punched me, but still. I can't help but feel bad for William. There's something strange going on in his life. "There you are, Jeff!" Brian exclaims right in my ear, almost making me go deaf. I try not to flinch as he strides along next to me without actually looking at my face and says, "Where were you during lunch? Sam and Paul were looking for you too, but none of us saw you in the cafeteria. What were you doing? Making out with a hot chick in the hallways or something?" I blush slightly, wondering why Brian would think I have any interest in girls. I'm really not all that interested in them right now. With their shiny hair, long lashes, and coy look smiles, I think I can do without them right now. I'm more interested in playing drums or learning music. "No, I wasn't with a girl. I was in the bathroom," I state truthfully. "You were what? Why the hell did you spent all of lunch in the bathroom...oh my god!" Brian finally takes a look at my face. From his horrified expression, I'm pretty sure that my nose is still bleeding. Brian stops walking and says, "Jeff, we've gotta get that taken care of!" "I know," I reply wryly. "Any idea how to do that? I've never had a heavy nosebleed before." "Um, let me think while we walk. The biology teacher really should let you go home after she sees your nosebleed. Hm..." Brian continues trying to think of something for me to do to stop the incessant bleeding. Suddenly, his blue eyes light up and he says, "You know, I think I heard once that you're supposed to lean forwards and pinch the top of your nose." "Okay, I guess," I say as I follow Brian to biology. Hoping that he knows what he's talking about, I lean forwards and squeeze my nose between my thumb and index finger. The blood doesn't stop immediately, but I do think it is dripping a little less quickly. "Here we are," Brian sighs with relief, pushing the door to the biology classroom open. He marches in like he owns the place and asks, "Where's the teacher? I need to talk to her!" An older woman with glasses squints in our direction. She's hunched over and can't seem to straight up even as she turns towards us. Fixing Brian with a dubious stare, she says, "Yes, I'm the teacher. Is there a problem?" "Yeah. My friend has a bloody nosy. Can he go home?" Brian asks for me. To be quite honest, I'm glad that Brian is talking for me. I'm too shy to ask to be able to go home. The teacher takes a step closer to me and then frowns when she sees my face. Nodding, she says, "Yes, you may go home. Are you sure I shouldn't call for you to be taken to a doctor?" "Oh no, I'll be fine," I say, not wanting to cause a scene. Taking a step backwards, I give Brian a grateful smile and mouth him a "thank you" before I turn and hurry down the empty hallways. Surprisingly enough, Brian's method of stopping a nosebleed is actually working. It's almost stopped now! Not wanting to feel like I should still be in school since my nosebleed is stopping, I quickly run outside and start home. Only five minutes later, I burst through the doorway to find mother baking as usual. I have to admit that I'm slightly disappointed to see that there's no drum kit anywhere in the living room. Just in case it's hiding somewhere, I find myself peering behind the couch. "Jeffrey?" mother says my name in surprise as she pokes her head out of the kitchen. "What are you doing home from school so early?" "It's kind of a long story," I admit before saying, "I got punched in the face earlier and my nose started bleeding. It's almost stopped now though." Mother immediately drops whatever she's working on in the kitchen and rushes to my side. She brushes my dark hair off of my forehead and takes a look at my face. Frowning, she says, "Sit down, honey. Is there anything I can do for you? I'm not sure what to do for a bloody nose. I could take you to the doctor though if you'd like." "No, no, that's okay," I reply. There's only one doctor in our small town and nobody likes him much. Doing what mother tells me to do, I sit at the table and lean forwards with my fingers still pinching the bridge of my nose. Mother disappears in the kitchen and reappears a minute later with a plate of peanut butter cookies and a cup of hot cocoa. Mom seems to think that food is the cure for everything. Well, I'm certainly not going to complain about it. As I take a cookie, mother narrows her eyes and asks, "Why did someone punch you? Do you know who it was?" I hesitate and decide to lie. The peanut butter cookie makes it hard for me to swallow and it takes me a minute before I can reply, "I don't know who it was. Just some random kid, I guess. I walked by them and they turned around and punched me. I guess they thought that I was someone else." "Hmph!" mother mutters indignantly. "Well, if this happens again, I'll be speaking to your principal about it. There's no need for a quiet boy like yourself to get beaten up! Honey, I've got to finish working on dinner, so I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Help yourself to the cookies." I nod and watch mother disappear into the kitchen. She needn't worry too much. I'm not planning on getting punched again. I'm going to stay far away from William and keep my face in one piece. The last thing I need is a broken nose. Who knew such a small boy could throw such a hard punch? Since I don't have any homework or anything else to do, I sit at the table for a bit and stare out the window. About two hours later, I see a small figure trudging down the road. The figure immediately catches my attention and I run to look out of the window. The figure is small and has red hair. I know you're thinking that I shouldn't care whether or not it is William, but I'm already flying towards the door, calling to mother, "I'm going outside for a bit! Be back soon!" Before mother can reply, I'm outside and am following William at a distance. Stalking someone is probably not such a good thing to do, but I'm curious as to where William lives. It can't be too far away from me if he's traveling down this road. Being as quiet as I can, I continue following William down the dusty road. He trudges along, not expecting for an instant that someone might be following him. I suppose that's good for me. The last thing I need is another punch. After we walk for another five minutes, William approaches a small white house. Apparently, he doesn't live too far away from my house at all. I hide behind a tree in William's yard as he walks up to the door. Once there, he hesitates before opening the door. I find that weird. Why doesn't he just go inside? Is he afraid of something inside the house? Click! Finally, William turns the doorknob and disappears inside of the house. Hm. There's nothing left for me to do now. The curtains are drawn and so I can't peek in the window even if I wanted to. Sighing, I abandon my hideaway and trudge by William's door. However, before I get too far along, I hear a deafening crash and a loud scream. I stop in my tracks and turn around to stare at the wooden door leading to William's house. I'm mostly tempted to turn around and pound on the door until someone opens it and lets me see what's inside. Of course, I'm far too shy to do that though. But what if William's hurt? Someone obviously hurt him. Figuring that my mother will know what to do, I turn and race the wind back to my house. Once there, I fly through the door all hot and sweaty. Pushing stringy black hair out of my eyes, I look around wildly for mother and call, "Mom! I need help!" "Yes, Jeffrey? What is it?" mother appears out of the kitchen immediately. "There's someone from school. I...uh...think he's being abused," I admit, staring at my muddy shoes. "Oh my," mother exclaims in surprise as she sets a bowl of some unknown substance down on the counter. "Tell me more about this situation, dear. How do you know this person is being abused? Is it one of your friends? Did he tell you about being abused?" "Um, well no. Not exactly," I mumble, shifting from foot to foot as I explain my story. "I followed him home from school. After he went inside, I heard a bang and then a scream. I think someone hit him. He's always showing up to school with bruises. He's not really a friend though." "Oh," mother replies, making no other answer than that for a few minutes. I frown irritably, wishing that she would at least say something more. Finally, mother says, "Unless he's a friend of yours, I really can't do much about this. If you want to invite him over after school, you're more than welcome to. You haven't had a friend over to the house for ages." I frown and stare at the ground. This isn't really the answer I was looking for. William will not want to come over to my house. He doesn't want anything to do with me. How can I help him if he won't let me help? Frowning, I say, "Isn't there anything we can do?" "I'm afraid not," mother admits with a sigh. "Ten percent of children are abused. Well, at least that's what I hear. It's not exactly an uncommon thing. We can't interfere in every abused child's life, you know? Just appreciate the fact that you're in a family where you have parents who love you and would never hurt you. Besides, you don't know that this boy is being abused necessarily. The bruise marks could be from something else and maybe the bang from inside the house was something falling from the counter. I know I drop things all the time." "But what about the scream?" I add. Mother can say whatever she wants, but I'm almost one hundred percent positive that William is being abused. Mother has nothing to say in response to the scream. Sighing, she just shrugs and suddenly changes the subject. Smiling at me, she points to the living room and says, "I know you're feeling bad about the boy at your school, but I have a surprise in the living room that might cheer you up." I forget all about William for a minute and hurry into the living room excitedly. When I reach it, I come to a jerky halt and my jaw drops to the floor. Standing before me is a new, beautiful drum kit! I had hardly believe my eyes. After praying and hoping for one for so long, this is more than I had ever hoped for! I immediately turn and go flying into the kitchen. Throwing my arms around mother, I exclaim, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" "You're very welcome, Jeffrey," mother says as she ruffles my hair. "After your bloody nose and rough day at school, I thought this might help cheer you up." "Yes, it's amazing! Thank you!" I nod vigorously. "Why don't you go mess around with it for a bit? I still need to finish dinner," mother says. I smile and nod, zipping back into the living room before I tap tentatively on one of the drums. It makes a low, deep sound that makes shivers go down my spine. Before I can help myself, my hands are all over the drums and I'm experimenting with everything. Guess what though? Even the drums can't distract me from William. I'm not sure why I care so much about this boy, but I just do. I guess I can't stand to see others in pain. It hurts me too. Sighing and figuring that I'm just digging my own grave by doing this, I make a promise to myself to try and befriend William one more time. To be continued... |
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I don't know what the law was like in the '70s but I wonder if they could get the cruel dad arrested and sent to jail?







I hope that Izzy's mom will buy him a drum kit. Brian is mean though...I think he's a bully
GRRRRR

8:50 PM Jul 10