INSTABILITY | M.C | COMPLETE

002

There was an old bridge. It was made of wood and it was in the oldest part of town. It was beautiful. But it was forgotten. The only people he would see there were an old couple. They would walk and close to the bridge and laugh. Like they were teenagers. But it was too dark now. They wouldn't be there.

It would be alone and empty. Like it often was. His boots touched the ground roughly as he walked in a fast pace towards the only place he felt all ease. The music blared through his ears again. Helping him relieve some of the emotions he held. When he reached the old bridge, he walked to the center the highest point. And stared down as he watched the water flow. He breathed in deeply. And he exhaled, he felt his body relax and the shivers began to stop.

He had no reason to live anymore. Nothing was enough for him to want to keep living. But he wouldn't kill himself. Not because he didn't want to.

He did.

But he didn't deserve to escape. He needed to live with the pain. The pain of what he did. He couldn't take the easy way out. He needed to suffer. After all, it was what he deserved.

The thoughts inside his head went to dark places. They mixed together and they try to manipulate his brain. He sat down and stared at the water. He pulled his knees towards his chest and rocked slightly backward and forward.

Why?

Why do bad things happen to good and innocent people?

People had always wondered what really happened that night. He would see the curious glances or afraid stares.

"Maybe he did it." They would think.

How could they?
No.
How dare they?

The stupid people in town knew nothing more than to gossip.

The night was cold. It definitely didn't help that he wasn't wearing a jacket. After a few minutes, he got up and started walking back home. To his other nerve wrecking hell.

~

Maybe it was the fact that his parents were yelling at each other yet again.
Maybe it was the fact that he only repeated her voice over and over again.

"Michael help!"

"Mikey, I'm scared."

Maybe it was the fact he could do nothing about it.
Maybe it was the fact that he had too much emotion inside of him.

But he started drawing. Now, what could be so extraordinary about this? A teenage boy with a hidden talent. Nothing new. Except this was the first time he drew in the past year.

When his parents stopped fighting and noticed his light on, his mother opened the door slightly to reveal her son painting at 2:46 am. Every instinct told her to tell him off and send him to bed. But she couldn't bear the thought of interrupting him. So she gently closed the door.

~

It had been a while since Michael had woken up exhausted, and with paint all over his fingers. He stared at his new painting.

Of course

He painted her.

Her rosy cheeks. Her brilliant smile. Big and loving eyes. Brown silky long hair. Round perfect young face. Her favorite long blue dress. And so full of... life

Just like she had once been.

His heart clenched and his body felt anger.

How dare he draw her like that?

He wanted to throw the painting. Burn it. Burry it. Rip it apart.

But it displayed her so, perfectly.

He had no choice. He got up, he turned it so it was facing the wall, and looked at it one last time, before going in the shower. He hoped the water would take away his heartbreak and hatred. 

This is an incredibly short chapter but I just wanted to show his emotional state. His thoughts and parents relationship. The next one will be more eventful. And since the story just started, its kind of hard getting to the topic. But I guess you might have a general idea.

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