Anathema | KLANCE

FOUR: Let It Go

Snippets of the past couple of weeks remained in Lance's mind, particularly the ones where beatings and stress were involved. No November has ever been as brutal to Lance as this one, and the mid-autumn gloom devours his mood in waves, frustrating him to no end.

"Get out of the fucking bed and clean the kitchen, you useless piece of shit!" A gratingly-hoarse voice shredded his eardrums apart, as the familiar stench of cigarette smoke was alarmingly close. All he wanted was a peaceful weekend after the grave punishment yesterday for skipping his medication once again, but with how much the witch was screaming at him for the past fifteen minutes, it looked like it would be another laborious day for him.

There was a dip in the bed after he was groaning in response, along with the sound of blowing out the flames on the butt of the cigarette. "Let's get going, shithead. We have church in a few minutes – if the house isn't fuckin' spotless before we come back, there'll be no dinner for you tonight. Capisce?"

With another disgruntled moan, the witch finally left his room, but not without discarding the extinguished toxic stick on Lance's carpet.

This has become the typical Saturday and Sunday morning for Lance, whether he asked for it or not. Instead of waking up to the comforting fragrance of French toast and coffee, his days usually started with billion micro-toxins floating into his room from the two smokers, wails bouncing off his walls, and sometimes a punch or two to 'wake up.' Making jokes and play-fighting with his brothers was replaced with serious insults and discolored patches of skin.

The daily twist in his stomach was there again this morning, and tugged tight onto the core of his being. As empty as he feels these days, the despondency and desolation never ceased to leave him.

Before either of them could berate him again, Lance drowsily got himself out of his bed, tying the blanket around his neck as if it was his personal cape. Once he found his phone after fuddling behind his pillows for it, he put his iTunes on shuffle to get himself hyped up for cleaning so he would have more time to sleep afterwards.

"This is the first song for your mix tape, it's short just like your temper..." Lance plugged in the nearly-broken earbuds to his phone, and swung the broom across the hallway to the beat. His grandfather and the actual demonic girlfriend bid a silent farewell, and left him alone to make the house spotless. The kitchen was the room that needed the most cleaning done, and Lance always saved the dirtiest place for last.

However, he wasn't expecting somebody to be out on the front porch while he was sweeping, let alone the very neighbor that has been causing him problems since the day he arrived. "What the hell – Keith?" Lance tore out the earbuds and let them dangle down onto his thigh, hand clutching the stick of the broom with intense ferocity. "Can you please leave? I have work to do," With a surge of pettiness, he swept some dust and dirt in Keith's direction, still not over what happened the last time they spoke. The beanie Keith usually wears was blown off from the forceful movement, and Lance had to take a step back from shock from the sudden change in appearance.

What Lance noticed first on the quivering boy was the ocean-blue hair, freshly cut to the nape of his neck, curled up from wearing a hat for a prolonged period. The next was a belt of deeper blues and purples around his neck, baring a grim resemblance to the very same contusions askew across Lance's own body. The ebony hoodie was rolled up to his elbows, a couple of nail marks embedded into the tattoos around his wrists.

An uneasy chuckle emerged out of Keith, unsettling the very being of Lance's conscience. "Sorry for irritating you again, I was just enjoying the scenery-"

"You live right fucking next door, Keith!" Lance screeched at the top of his lungs, making the fellow boy wince from the impact of the scream and the broom crashing down onto the wooden porch. "Don't... don't keep lying to me. I'm tired of being deceived by you... and your stupid dyed hair. Tell me the real reason why you're here, bastard."