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"Hallelujah" -Panic! At The Disco -
September 18th, 2002 1:34am
The charcoal like scent roamed, its sulfurous notes entering my nostrils. His dark eyes focused onto me with a cigarette dangling precariously from calloused fingers as your conversation carried on.
The warm air was thick with the scent of a hundred dying flowers, and full of the gentle, soothing whisper and murmur of insects.
"Hey, grab me one." Your voice rang out to the male sitting comfortably beside the log, to which he threw a cancer-stick in your direction.
"Thanks, Tim." You pull a lighter from your pocket, the white mechanism emitting an orange flame from the top of it, child-lock nowhere to be seen.
Brian plopped next to you, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, towards Tim. The dark-haired male scoffed, forking out a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.
"I told you that y'all would get along." Brian snatched the money from him, shoving it into his own jeans pocket. His hands reached for a beer in the cooler, a few other bands reaching for one as well.
A teenage girl with a Polaroid camera in her hands walked up to the log you sat on. "Do you guys want a picture?"
"Oh hell yeah." Brian snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close—cheek to cheek.
She snapped the picture, handing it to us after shaking it for a bit.
"Thank you." You smiled at her before gently putting it in your pocket. Brian fished into your pocket for the picture, looking at it. "Oh, I look so good." He laughed, handing it back to you.
Brian hadn't informed you how many people would be here, though you aren't complaining, for there was a great bit of people here.
The bonfire ate at the firewood, crackling in the bustling teenage hangout spot. Chatter emitted throughout the night air, your coat hugging your frame.
Your cigarette dangled from your mouth, eyes flickering throughout the people that littered the field.
You stood up, waltzing over to where Tim now stood with a few others. "Dude, did you guys watch the Spider-Man movie back in May? The one with Tobey Maguire?" One of them asked, his baseball cap keeping his hair from flinging out in the cold wind.
"Hell yeah I did." Another responded, a laugh following his words. "I went and watched it with Diane."
You turn to Tim, him obviously uninterested in the conversation. His eyes met yours as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Damn, isn't that like your fourth one tonight?" You laughed, taking a drag of your own.
"Yeah, yeah." He nonchalantly said, his usual sarcastic demeanor seeping through, though a little lighter than usual. "I gotta stop before my dad finds out." He repositioned his feet in the dirt.
"My dad couldn't care less." You scoffed, memories of your father either being drunk or being absent filling your mind. "My moms too worried about other things to care, honestly."
"Fair enough." Tim's words lightened up definitely as you spoke, the two of you finding your way back to the bonfire logs.
Brian leaned onto your shoulder, absolutely wasted as a giggle escaped his lips. His sandy hair was messy, strands fraying out.
"Bri, how many drinks have you had?" You questioned him, a light sheet of red layering your cheeks as he nestled into your neck further.
"I feel like an egg."
"Elaborate?"
"Goopy on the inside."
His words made you laugh, his arm snaking around your waist whilst still half-hugging you. "I think we gotta head back." You slowly began to stand up, his body coming with you.
"N..n.-noo." He whined as he still held onto you. "It's getting late, Bri." He stood up, steadying himself in his hazy state.
"Just go with her; Brian. You and me both know it'll be best for you in the morning." Tim said, leaning on the log.
Brian stood, beginning to walk with you. His footsteps are unsteady and shaky, his hoodie in need of a wash from him playing football with a few guys earlier.
A shriek emitted from you as an ear-piercing sound came about, seemingly coming from directly inside your ears.
Brian seemed to hear it too; him falling to his knees.
The feeling of pure dissociation. Drowning in emotions you can't help. Fingertips numb. The feeling you have when you sit at the top of the stairs listening to your parents fight.
Dread.
It felt like the world is fades into grey, being surrounded by the piercing static. It's stature haunted you. The pale, blank face of what you considered to be the fucking devil.
Though one thing takes you out of it.
Brian latches onto you, his arms pulling you up to help you run, despite his intoxicated state. He still knew better—how to think on his feet.
October 7th, 2009 10:34pm
The tapes flew by you, processing each and every one of them in your mind. Jay sat next to you, both of your sanities depleting as you watched the tapes over and over to piece together what happened.
You found yourself observing footage with yourself in it that you would've never remembered filming at all. Your expression of confusion seemingly caught Jay's attention.
"You get used to it."
"Huh?"
"Seeing yourself in footage you don't remember being in or filming, I mean." He shuffled in his seat. A few tapes consisted of Brian in them, sometimes the two of you paired together as per usual.
It hurt you.
Though the sinking realization that, what Jay refers to as the 'Operator', had slipped your memory from your teenage life for some time until you reached college when it spiked up again. Only to then slip away into the forgotten memories.
You knew damn well that you wouldn't have forgotten it on your own—something as fucking horrible as that. The tapes made you remember the things it made you forget.
