Ashes on your pale skin ~ Chris Motionless

Chapter 1:

Her eyes go wide with fascination as she walks through the door of the venue after the long wait to get in.

Music that she recognises and connects to deeply fills her ears, and making her smile as she looks around, seeing people who all look so interesting to her.

Intricate makeup, studded and chained up outfits, and people clad in black; people like her.

She can't help feel inadequate compared to everyone that she is passing though, her faded and ripped beyond repair black jeans, her mums old band tee from her youth faded and present on her chest underneath her leather jacket that she'd thrifted and brought to life with patches that she'd made herself, as well as pins that her mother had spared to her.

She's not the greatest at makeup, and doesn't own enough of it to practise. All she has is a pot of her mums old black eyeshadow that she'd thrown out one day, that she'd managed to pinch from the trash.

She messily applied it with her fingers, and whilst it's not perfect, it does the job, and makes her feel that tiny bit more like herself.

They all look so cool, and she wishes she was able to look like the beautiful alternative men and women parading around the venue in their effortless, messy perfection.

Her mum, despite her addiction, has pulled out a strong effort tonight, black hair with blonde streaks running through its curled ends, winged eyeliner adorning her pale face and matching daringly with her cherry red lipstick.

Her mum had pulled out her old leather jacket from back in the day, customised perfectly with patches and pins, her tight fitted crop top showing off her slim physique, her skinny jeans clinging to her curves perfectly, with her black combat boots finishing off her outfit.

She forgets how effortlessly pretty her mother is, it's no surprise she was able to get with Chris really.

She knows bits and pieces of their history, and she's seen some old pictures that her mothers held onto.

Her mother and Chris had been in a relationship throughout school, high school sweethearts. She's see the pictures of them at prom together, the look that Chris had on his face; pure adoration. She doesn't understand what went wrong, or why her mum left, when it was clear he was just as in love with her as she was with him.

It's clear to her that her mother had always missed Chris, and the way that the two were together, the connection that they had.

From the aggressive rampages and intoxicated murmurings, she'd made out her mother going on about missing him, regretting her choice, and most importantly regretting not aborting her.

She knows how her mother feels, and she wishes that she had been aborted a lot of the time. She never asked for this, and if it meant that things could've gone the 'right' way, and caused so much mess hurt and pain for the three members of the disjointed family, she would definitely go back in time and change things.

Tonight is a strange occurrence to her, mainly because Motionless in white have been in their city before, but her mothers never gone, let alone taken her with her to go and see them.

She'd caught her mother getting off her face to a different degree every time she knew that they were in the city; trying to forget.

She'd always been quick to leave the house when they were in their area, knowing that things could get ugly quickly, and it was best if her mother didn't see her face, the reminder, that the love of her life got away.

She'd travelled down to the venue they'd played at once before, by herself, when she was around ten years old, and had just sat around nearby, listening to the incredibly loud musical sounds from inside of the venue and smiling to herself.

She knew that she wouldn't be believed if she'd tried to talk to Chris, so she'd departed the scene incredibly quickly after they'd finished playing.

It hasn't been a lot, but it had kept her happy for a little while. It hadn't taken long for the wound to sting, and she knows after today it's going to hurt even more, after she's seen him in person.

Todays been different though, her mothers been 'happy', something that she's rarely ever seen or witnessed as a thing that could even come from her mother, especially on the day of, and going to an event that's caused her so much pain in the past.

The kindness is a new feeling to her, but she'll take it while she can get it.

The pills that she'd been given recently to fight off her disorder have been a lifesaver, and she hopes that she can keep having them, even after tonight; she knows she won't be allowed to.

Hope runs thickly through her veins, the hope that her mums a changed woman, that after tonight things will be different. Her childish naivety always get the best of her; she knows she won't change.

Casting her gaze up, she notices a table set up, T-shirts and hoodies set up with prices next to them, the merch stand.

She'll never be able to afford a shirt, but seeing her dads face on so many of the shirts, looking back at her, makes the growing feeling of euphoria mixed with anxiety run through her veins once again.

It's real; it's happening.

She's really in the venue, and it's not some sick fever dream.

For the first time in her life her dads been in the same building as her.

A hand grabs onto her and yanks her along, not horrifically aggressive, but nowhere near calm and compassionate either.

Casting her gaze away from the merch stand, she follows along with her mother quickly, who weaves them through the crowd as quickly as she can, pulling them closer and closer to the shining silver of the barricade.

Her mum was quick enough, and they'd been there, waiting outside, early enough that her mum had managed to secure them the spot at the barricade, for once in her life actually pushing her in front of her body so that she could touch the barricade, before taking the space next to her quickly, worming her slender form in place next to her tiny daughter.

They were practically front centre, and the thought of it makes her heart want to explode from her body from the way it's thumping against her chest.

As her hand grips onto the cold metal, people pressed up close behind her, her eyes fixate on the microphone fixed to the front of the stage.

-

Sorry for the short-ish chapter, I couldn't see any point in making it any longer and it felt like a good point to stop lol

The chapters on this I plan to make a tiny bit longer than this in general!