There are many things in his life that he regrets. As minutes pass, he understands how miserable his life had been at times. He regrets most of it. Empty promises, bottles of drinks, the screaming, the arguing, his life was a never ending circle of exactly that. Now he sits in the darkness and he has all the time in the world to remember all his expensive mistakes. His life is his biggest regret.
There are, though, some things he doesn't regret. There are few, it takes a while to name them. he didn't have enough fingers to count the regrets but now that he recalled the good times, five seemed like a high number. This is his life, a mistake that can never be fully regretted. He figures a lot of people have it worse than him. But not now. Now he's the unluckiest person in the world.
There is something covering his eyes, a black fabric, that is wrapped around his scull so tight-he fears that if he moves even a little bit his eyes will leave their position. His hands aren't tied up-he finds that a little bit late-but he doesn't bother untying his eyes. If something he's grateful that he can't see. He doesn't want to see.
Eventually, curiosity gets the best of him and he stands up carefully. His head hit the metal ceiling, whatever he is on is moving and he struggles to keep up straight. He extends his right hand and touches something metallic. As soon as his palm touches the metal, he feels a pain traveling through his spine. This must be what being electrocuted feels like. It hurts more than anything he could have ever imagined.
He screams.
(It's what he does best.)
.
"Dude, you looked awfully white." Spencer notices to which Jon nods. Brendon tries not to pay attention to them, his eyes still glued on Ryan whose hand is on top of his. The other boy looks worried, his gaze softens with every second that passes, Brendon really wants to punch him in the face. But how could he, when he stares at him like that?
"Bren, are you okay?"
He wants to say no.
He wants to tell him to fuck off.
He wants to tell the universe to stop playing games.
Yet nothing comes out but a weird noise that was supposed to be words. He finds the strength, and logic, to clear his throat and mumble a response."I'm fine."
He isn't. He is everything but fine.
"Your voice,"Ryan whispers with a puzzled look"are you sure you're okay? Does your throat hurt?"
It only takes Ryan's comments for the others to notice that something is off as well. Jon leans closer to Spencer but his eyes still scan Brendon from head to toe. If this is a dream, Brendon thinks, then he was never mixing vodka and tonic together again."It's fine, I'll just have some tea or something."
Ryan doesn't react. He just continues looking at him like that and Brendon is sure that the other can see his soul. Brendon stands up as quickly as he can and-completely avoiding Ryan's gaze-turns to Jon and Spencer."I feel a bit dizzy, gonna get some air."he announces very fast"Catch up with you guys later!"
He sprints outside their trailer and runs, not knowing where to go. Of course, Brendon was terrible at running so in about ten meters he fell to the ground. Knees weak and body aching from last night's alcohol, Brendon just wanted to lay down. He took a deep breathe and glanced at the ground where his hands were on. He had almost stepped on a gum which was another proof that God hated him.
Next to that stood a flower that had bloomed in a pavement's crack. It had a deep red to purple color and Brendon couldn't help staring it for a while. It was mesmerizing. "Who are you?"the voice made Brendon turn behind while mentally cursing himself"Cause you aren't Brendon, that's certain."
.
"I just want you to know that this isn't something personal."James announced as he continued dragging his prisoner"I honestly believe that this wasn't your fault but since that godly idiot is gone and someone has to pay for this mess, the blame has been passed on you.", he never receives an answer which makes him sigh. With one careful move, James presses his two hands on the torso of his prisoner.
"This won't hurt that much."
It's a lie because as soon as the procedure begins, screams echo in the woods. James stops for just some seconds and with a swing takes the black rope from his prisoner's eyes and wraps his arms."You got to trust me, I'm doing this as softly as I can."
Patrick scoffs.
James sighs and begins again. Now, a purple lights is slowly leaving Patrick's body, in the wave it takes many forms of small creatures but the route always ends the same; the purple light inside James' hand. When it's over, and Patrick's screams have stopped, they both know that the end is near. James unties Patrick's hands and pats his back.
"I'm really sorry."
"This wasn't supposed to end like this."
The wind howls. Horse steps echo from afar. James nods.
"Vale."
as the darkness is getting closer to Patrick, the regrets of his life die. He isn't scared of dying.
He's scared of the mess that has been created.
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Amaranthine ✿ | Ryden
Fanfictionam·a·ran·thine (ăm′ə-răn′thĭn, -thīn′) adjective 1. of or like the amaranth. 2. undying; everlasting. 3. of purplish red color. Or In 2008,Brendon loves Ryan. In 2017,he doesn't.