Secrets//Josh Brooks

01/ ten thousand miles

Soraya's POV:

"I've never been this lost before. I've never felt so cold. It's like somewhere inside of me someone has reached inward and stolen the last broken remnants of my soul. I have nothing left. And if I stay, I'll be dead by tomorrow. I have nowhere to go, but I can go anywhere. Escape is over 10,000 miles away from me, 10,000 miles away from home. But what is a home to me now? I run from all I have left. And I will run all over again. I will chase my shadow around the earth until I'm free of my enclosed pen. And all they will see is footsteps, because I will not be there, and soon they shall find that I'll never be there again."
- August 2, 2016

I unleashed a defeated sigh and forced the holding band around the edges of my leather bound journal. This book, filled with my memories, with the details of my sombre past, was all I would be taking with me. All that had meaning, anyway. There wasn't a great deal in my life that had meaning anymore.

I laid back on my bed and listened to the light rain pitter patter softly against the tin of the roof. I knew it would come crashing down soon, just as my life had, just as I had since my father died. And then it came. The crashes of rain against the roof were almost soothing, they blocked out the screams of the neighbours as they partied another meaningless night away, and fought about who won the last game of ping pong. They placed bets on such things, you know.

I had spent so long wishing that my own life was so simple, but nothing about me was simple at all. I was a stark exception to the norm. Nothing about my life had ever been kind. God, it seemed, had not favoured me very much. And that was when I began to wonder, for not the first time in my bitter life, if God truly existed as it was. It had never felt as if anybody kept their eyes on me, well, not in guidance anyway. I was disposable, and I was worthless. I know because they told me so.

My past had always been a topic I neglected to talk about, unless I was alone, unless it was to myself, in the etchings of black ink stretched across the faded paper inside the leather journal. Nobody knew who I really was, nor did they know what I had been through; and if they did, it had not surfaced from my mouth. In a way my life was like a movie, only it was one of the depressing ones with a sketchy ending, leaving everything untold.

I rose from my bed again and opened up my battered suitcase. I didn't think anybody would miss me here. I suppressed an amused chuckle at the thought that I could not remember what it was really like to actually be missed. I reflected upon my youth, I'd always been the one circling around the outside of the innermost circles, trying to find a way in. But as it seemed, the paths in and out of real friendship had always been closed to me.

My father was the only one who had ever loved me, and his love was at times questionable if not limited. He would have been the only thing that could have made me stay, but he was underground now, just a rotting pile of flesh and bones. As for romance, I unrelentingly avoided thinking about it. I hadn't thought about it at all, not since the incident.

I diverted my attention to gaze around the suddenly bare room. There was nothing left in the space that I owned. I had already discontinued my rent. I'd been saving up some money to get myself to London for the last three years. I was a writer. London, in my eyes, was the ultimate appreciation point of literature. Perhaps being submerged in the art of my passions would give me some comfort. I didn't think I would be any more lonely than before. I didn't even know if it were possible.

I got up and walked around the room for the final time, absorbing the sweet wintry sent of mid-year Melbourne, and lugged my heavy suitcase out of the door behind me and locked it with a nimble turn of the thick silver key.

~

"I arrived in London yesterday. Sometimes I feel as if I've made a terrible and completely illogical blunder by moving to the other side of the world, and yet I feel free and so conflicted all at once. This feeling is strange and completely foreign to me. This is the first taste of freedom with which I have ever been dealt. It feels like some sort of abstract ration. I'm staying with a girl about the same age as me by the name of Lottie, or Charlotte, if one would prefer. She seems kind, but I don't know how to respond to kindness in the rightly expected way. My lack of social capability and inability to exhibit any hint of trust is already seeping through my facade of normality. She'll likely think me strange soon. But alas, some things cannot be avoided. I start work tomorrow, so hopefully my obvious awkwardness will level out some. If not, the pen I grasp with my right hand will remain my only friend in all the world, as it has been for as long as I can remember."
- August 4, 2016

I closed my journal with a familiar thud. It gave me some sense of constancy to remind myself of where I was each day, perhaps this way I would not lose touch with reality completely. It was 8pm in London, and for the first time in a long time, I felt tiredness swirl inside of me, making my body stiff with the suddenly gruelling effort to remain standing. I couldn't remember the last time my mind let me get to sleep so early. I usually fell into a state of  unconsciousness at 3am from sheer exhaustion and necessity, and woke three or four times beyond that point tormented by  hot sweats and my own fearfulness.

I turned off the bedroom light and swung myself onto my bed, curling into the soft covers. The space around me looked barren, even in the dark. I thought I would have to personalise it in some way later, but for now I needed to sleep whilst my mind was prepared to let me do so. I had a long day ahead of me when dawn rose over the horizon, which was suddenly jagged with the tips of tall buildings holding mysteries that were yet to be uncovered. I closed my eyes to the sounds of sirens and the bustle of barely-dark traffic. So, this was London.

That was the first chapter of 'Secrets'! I've never written a Fan fiction before so bear with me please, but I felt strangely inspired to begin one today. I'm not going to personally comment on the twins situation regarding their being axed from The X Factor because I don't know what really happened, but this story is going forward nonetheless. It's no right of mine to pass any judgement, everything in this story is entirely fictional. I never thought I would write a Fanfiction but Josh and Kyle, especially Josh, just worked for this story on a huge level that I couldn't ignore. If you liked it, don't hesitate to reach out to me and give suggestions for the direction of the story. I know this chapter was a bit boring but I'd love to hear your comments. Anyway, I'll stop rambling. The next chapter should be up soon, and yes, Josh will be in it this time lol

P.s- Yes, the picture I have included is supposed to be Soraya, I do not claim ownership of this image. All rights go to the original owners.