The House of Wolves ( boyxboy )

Chapter One : We All Fall Down

Picture of Rennie in the side bar :)

Chapter One

 

The question asked in order to save her life or take it

The answer no avoided death and yes would make it

•

All heads are bowed in silent reverence

The floor is wet with tears of sorrowful remembrance

The alter is filled with hearts of repentance

Perfect love kills all fear; rejoice in this deliverance

 

Cassie – Flyleaf

 

***

Serenity (Rennie) Moore

            I have a stuttering problem. That should explain the reasons why I don’t like to talk – why I don’t talk in general. I guess ever since my mother died, I stopped talking because the thought of hearing my voice disgusted me. My voice just reminded me – and my father – of what we’ve lost and what we will never have again. I sounded like her when I talked, when I sang, and I looked just like her too. Except, I’m a guy…and she was a woman. People tend to mistake me for a girl; my name is Serenity, I’m short, and I’m feminine looking. Plus, I’m gay…but I don’t think that has to do with anything.

            Even though I sound like my mother, I never stopped singing. I stopped talking, just not singing. I felt comfortable when I sang; I felt at home, at peace, like my actual self. For a few months, I was happy with who I was; I was in a great band, had a few great friends, and my Dad actually stayed home for, the most, a week. Life was better all up until my Dad started going on business trips again, leaving me home alone. I was sucked back into a depression; therefore, kicked out of the band, which caused all my friends to move on to other people. But it’s not worth fussing over, I guess.

             The air around me caused my body to shudder, the feeling of the winter’s cold seeping deep into my bones, resting my body at peace. I loved the cold, for I could remember being a toddler, playing in the snow with my mom and dad, being able to smile, to laugh, actually feeling genuinely happy.

            I smiled at the small memory of my mother, the way her long, dark, chocolate brown hair felt into soft, gentle curls that framed her face, sculpting it into a beautiful work of art. I remembered the way her deep, violet eyes sparkled from the blue sky, the way her perfect teeth shined when she smiled, and the bright sound of her musical laughter.

            Unshed tears stung at my eyes as I forced myself to walk into the local coffee shop. The strong, inviting smell of coffee and tea welcomed me inside, as the warmth of the heaters enveloped me into a soothing embrace. Walking over to the counter, the girl who worked behind it smiled, “Back again?”

            Grinning slightly, I nodded.

            “The usual, then?” She asked, her blonde fringe swooping across her eyes, soft waves shaping her face into a beautiful heart. When I nodded again, her deep brown eyes sparkled with longing and a happiness I could never behold. I knew she was attracted to me, but she also knew I was gay, for the first time I met her, she had flirted with me and I had murmured a rude, “I’m g-gay.”