Darius Bowman Oneshots

FINE all FINE

...

''I'm fine, Brand, really.'' He's saying to his brother a day after the funeral. He can tell the exact moment, right then, that his brother wants to counter back. That he'll go into older brother mode, beginning with wise words, familiar advises he's heard more than once and that heart to heart at the end. But Darius can't take that, not now, he fears he'll break and never recover.

He knows the same goes for Brand and his mother also. They're all hurting.

And he'll finally have to take in the fact that his father is gone. He doesn't want that. Not now. It's wrong, unhealthy, he knows this. Too much people standing around him in black, way taller, older, wiser people have been saying the same thing. And sometimes he wishes to curse back. At all of them. What do they know, half of them didn't even know the man that was going 6 feet under yet they act like he'll heal within a week. It makes him dizzy with hidden anger.

But he's only twelve. What would they care what he has to say?

He's done telling himself he won't climb out from his dark thoughts. Convinced he'll rot in this darkening abyss that's sourced no light to escape. The one he's created.

So he glances at Brand, a silent thought with his brother, who quickly gets the idea and turns to leave, but not before, ''You know where I'll be.''

He simply nods and Brand is shutting the door as he exits. Darius is waiting, a minute or two. Then crumbles. Slowly melting into the bed as he hugs a pillow close to his chest. And finally he lets everything hurt.

If it's not the shower carrying away his tears in long striding streaks flowing along his skin, his body and swirling around his feet then it's the pillow on his bed soaking away his salty tears. And he would never break in front of his family. Even when the day is bleak and there are only dark clouds hovering. He'll have to stay as strong as possible. For them. For him.

...

Out within the one place he's beaten a video game to get to, there's no time for tears and no place to hide them away.

Here, up in their built but sturdy tree house, he was being haunted by not so fond memories. He's been haunted before, by his Dad. But now there was a new guest added to the oh so joyful ride.

He thought he'd keep it all together, be strong as the leader of the group. So moving on had to be done and over with and getting off the island (getting them all off the island) was top priority. So there was no time to grieve and have a break down on a place that couldn't hide way his sadness as best as he'd like. 

But there was always something having it out for Darius Bowman.

He's staying up to watch that night over the rest of the campers and his thoughts were just brighter than the stars above. He tried shrugging off the thought of Ben falling, over and over from his hand that gripped too hard, trying to hold on... then it slipped so slow and agonizingly. And his heart beats faster and the horror in those eyes as they parted from his view and went down, down, down...

Darius shifted and pulled his legs up to his chest, his bed squeaking. He turned and caught a glimpse of Yazmina, on a lower bunk shifting, but that was the only movement as he turned back watching the jungle dancing in the slow breeze that brushed past.

The feeling washed over him and then his back is shaking hard as he covers his mouth to stop from making any noise. He's shutting his eyes and willing himself to not drop a single tear. He's supposed to be at home, not here dying in his own mind.