Dying In LA ||Frerard/Ryden/Petekey||

Mr. Brightside

A/N: Trigger warning!

- 15 years ago-

"Goodnight darling." My mothers hazel eyes peered into mine as she pressed a kiss to my forehead and switching off the dark blue and white bedside lamp on my nightstand.

She stood up from kneeling at my bedside and left the room. I rolled off of my side and looked up at the ceiling. On my 6th birthday my mother and father had gotten me glow-in-the-dark stars to put on my ceiling.

"All you ever do is work! You never have time for me or our only child!" I hear my mother scream at my father.

They have fought like this forever.

"Well, if you would get off of your lazy ass and do some work, I wouldn't have to slave away all day in my office to support you and our son." He screamed back.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang that shook the walls of my house.

Heavy footsteps came up the stairs.

The white door to my room flew open.

"Since your mother is weak and pathetic, it looks like you'll be getting her punishment." He said, pulling tge blanket off of my frail body.

He undid his belt and pulled the leather accessory out of the belt loops of his jeans.

He pulled me from my bed and threw me onto the ground.

"STOP." I shrieked.

He whipped me relentlessly with his belt, leaving red irritated markings over my body.

He picked me up and I wrapped my thin arms arounf his neck, my tears soaking into his grey t-shirt.

"You know I love you, right?" He whispered, kissing the side of my head.

"Mhm" I mumbled before falling asleep in his arms.

-

-7 years later-

Today was the day. After countless years of my mother and me being beaten by my father, I was going to do it.

Today, he will die.

Today was fathers day, and my mother told me to make the son of a bitch a cup of coffee.

I have been planning it out for months.

I would put peanut powder into his coffee. They would thing it was an accident, or if I really wanted to I could stage it as a suicide and write a lovely little note explaining how he "couldn't handle it anymore" and how much he "loves" his family. I don't know much about love, but I know that you don't hurt the people you love.

The coffee maker began beeping, signaling that it was done.

I pulled the coffee off of the coffee maker and sprinkled the ground peanuts into the coffee. He was extremely allergic to them. His throat will close up and he wouldn't be able to breathe.

Perfect.

I added a splash of creamer and made my way ouy of the kitchen and down the all to my oarents room.

"Happy Fathers day Dad!" I yelled.

"Oh, you made me coffee? Thank you sweetheart." He said, taking the coffee from my hands

He took a sip of the coffee and I smiled.

"Yo-you bastard!" He attempted to squeak out.

"Pathetic." I said, laughing to myself.

I walked over to my mothers makeup stand and looked at her curling iron.

"Wow, it would be a shame if someone, oh, I don't know. Turned it on and left it on the carpet. Alone." I said, giggling.

I plugged it in to the outlit and turned it up to the highest level.

I threw it to the ground, moving over to my fathers bedside.

"Sto-stop." He said, chocking on his own words.

"I hate you." I growled.

I left the room, locking the door from the inside.

Suddenly, my mom walked in through the front door, so I figured I should put on a little show.

"MOM!" I sobbed.

"Oh sweetheart, whats wrong?" She asked, sounding very comcerned.

"Dad locked himself in his room." I said between sobs. "An-And he hid all of the phones."

My mom looked shocked.

Suddenly, the house was filled with a loud beeping.

The fire alarm.

Perfect timing.

My mom took my hand and led me out the door. We walked to her far and sat. My Mom leaned her head against the steering wheel. Hot tears streaming down her face.

You know the term "cry me a river"?

Well, from the looks of it she basically cried a river.

A river that lifted up the car and sweeped us away to some deserted island in the middle if nowhere. A place where we were safe. A haven with everything needed and wanted.

Paradise.

But in reality, everything was broken.

My father is presumably dead considering the house is on fire and he is having an allergic reaction to peanuts.

And the fact I super glued the windows shut.

Oops.

And my mother is just the shell of a women.

Her smiles hollow and empty, her eyes dull and depleted of the sparkles they once held.

Now, I do believe that my parents were in love at one point, but now, its sick and twisted, like vines intertwining with an old abandoned house, slowly decaying throughout the years until there is nothing left.

And there were happy memories, like putting up the starts that were now on my burning ceiling. I remember sitting on my dads shoulders and randomly sticking them around my room. I would look at them whener I was sad. Sad about anything really.

When I would stare at them, I would try to drown out my morher and father screaming. Screaming words of such profound hatred for each other.

At least the voices have stopped

You're not good enough

This is all your fault

They would scream. I would scream back at them, until my throat was raw.

My world shattered around me, and I feel like it's my job to pick up the pieces.

The world is a horrible place. Horrible people. Rapists, Murderers. Kidnappers.

Maybe I could do some good.

Sirens blared around me, one of our thick skulled neighbors must have called the firefighters because they saw smoke. Or heard screaming.

But they never heard my mother being beaten, or her head slammed into walls. They never saw through their windows me being whipped with a belt. Tears burning my eyes.

I am pathetic.

I am useless.

I am nothing.

I am broken.