Who Will Fix Me Now? » fransykes

Waiting For A Friend

"Will you forgive me if I tell you why I'm here?". My eyes darted to him, he was looking at the bed covers with furrowed brows.

I stood awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I didn't know what to do with myself. I was so desperately holding myself back from Josh.

He looked up at me. "You can sit down if you want" He said with a laugh, but the laugh was...empty, is that even possible. We were obviously not in a laughing matter, but the air seemed so thick that any action would of been suitable.

I tip-toed my way to the bed and sat as far away from him as possible. I crossed my legs and picked at my nails.

He let out a shaky breath and started blinking repeatedly. He constantly ran his fingers through his sex hair. "I've been here since I was thirteen, so three years" he started. "I was born into a normal family, nothing was wrong with them and nothing tragic had happened in it. When I was younger all my friends had like divorced parents or one parent in jail or even dead. And I was grateful for that.

But my family were perfect, my mum and dad owned their own law firm and were both extremely successful. They were extremely clever, overprotective and bragged about it. At a very young age, they paid for me and my sister, Elissa to have a tutor. A tutor that wasn't even needed we were three, only just learning how to read and write. They wanted us to be top of the class in everything, they wanted us to have one hundred percent on every test. Our lives revolved around school and when we weren't at school, we were doing homework, and if we had completed our homework or didn't have any our parents would give us some of their law cases. I had learned how to solve various cases out by the age of five.

I didn't have a proper childhood. I was never allowed to go out and play with other kids. I never made friends easily anyway. At school I'd most likely stay in the classroom, doing extra work, because nobody talked to me, apart from the teachers. Elissa was a few years older than me, so when we were in the same school, i'd sometimes try and stay with her and her friends, but they didn't like me either. She sort of rebelled against our parents, she didn't do well in school but lied about it when asked, in her teens she sneaked out alot, to parties, to just go out drinking, to go fuck a few guys. So i got extremely lonely.

I remember one night when I was five, I sat at my windowsill, and all the streetlamps outside had turned off. The street was pitch black, but no one seemed to notice, it was like only I could see, everyone just carried on as normal. The lights then kept flickering on and off in random patterns, until each bulb smashed to the ground, the night was filled with loud glass hurtling to the floor and smashing into tiny little pieces, but still no one but me noticed. Everyone carried on as normal. The cars drove by without a second glance, families stayed in their houses glues to the soaps on TV, my parents sat at the table downstairs talking about the endless work. That's when I saw him. My first friend.

He was a man of maybe forty years. He wore a long black, leather trench coat. He always had mucky hands, like they were covered in soot, with dirt wedged under his fingernails. His face was mangled, burnt by fire and the effect was devastating. His skin on his face always looked raw, red and wrinkled, one of his eyes was swelled and permanently shut, whilst the other was filled with blood and sometimes fell from it's socket, he also never looked directly at me. His nose was broken in several places. He had no eyebrows, they had been burnt away, and the hair on his had was thin, grey and airy and also most of that had burnt away. His lips were thin and he only had a few teeth, but they were rotting and close to dropping out.

He stood on the remains of a broken bulb. He stood and just stared at me, in the dark. He held a gas lantern, that first night in his outstretched hand pointed towards me. With his other hand he waved slightly at me, and being only five and a polite little boy, I waved back.

He suddenly dropped the lantern and the whole street went up in flames. The broken bulbs were now bones and hanging from each street lamp was a body. They hung from their necks but didn't die from the hanging, the flames engulfed them and they burnt to death.

I remember watching the flames for about an hour, all I heard was the cracking as each flame danced and whipped in the air, and the torturous screams of the people hanging. The flames soon were put out, disappeared like they were never even there. The people had disappeared and the street lamps were shining, each bulb in perfect condition once again.

I walked away from the window, to see the man that stood on the street in my room, blocking my exit. For some reason though, I didn't scream in terror, I didn't cry for help, I was never scared of the man.

He visited me alot, every night, he would make the same entrance of burning the bodies. He told me they were getting what they deserved, he told me they had made him like he was, it was karma, he said.

As I got older though the man appeared more, he appeared in daylight as well, he appeared even whilst my parents were in the same room, but they never noticed them. Even though he visited me in day he never liked the sun, so he always stood in the darkest corner of what ever room I was in, then at night he roamed around freely.

One night, when I was seven my mum came into my room, whilst I was talking to the man, she shouted at me, saying I was too old for imaginary friends. But I carried on talking to him, to me he wasn't imaginary.

Then when I was nine, the man hadn't seen me in about a week, it confused me but I didn't think much of it. My family and I were watching the news, that's all we watched. When this breaking story came on, about a man who had hung three generations of a family from the streetlamps in the countryside and sat the grass on fire below, the flames soon engulfed them and the family were burnt to death. They said the killer was still on the loose, but I fuzzy picture of him was displayed on the screen, it was the man, my friend. I made some sort of weird reaction to it apparently because I was rushed to hospital and was in a coma for about a year.

I woke up not long after my tenth birthday, nobody was in my hospital room. It was dark and pretty cold. I buzzed for a nurse to come in. But the only person who came was the man. He told me, he had come to see me everyday, he told me my family hadn't, he said they had forgotten about me. He then went on to tell me about the people he killed the year before. He told me how he felt as he watched them beg for mercy, as he watched their skin shrivel up and them burn to a crisp, as there remains, their ashes blew into the air.

A bunch of people then took me away, they kept me in the hospital and locked me in a padded room, with a stray jacket on, for three years I was there. They then finally moved me to Norwood. I was diagnosed with extreme Schizophrenia.

I have not seen my parents or sister since I was ten, they really did give up and forget about me. As for the man, I haven't seen him since I came here." 

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Title: Waiting For A Friend by The Pretty Reckless

Okay so I based Josh's childhood on a few dreams I have had, shit, you're all going to think I'm some insane psycho killer, oh well.

Hope you enjoyed it, finally told you about Josh.

Song on the side... firstly can I just say Taylor Momsen is the sexiest women alive! Right, I am not gay or bi or anything like that, I'm straight okay, but I would never say no to her, I pretty sure I would fuck her raw, so we both wouldn't be able to walk for weeks (bit TMI) so long story short she is my mother fucking woman crush! And I love her band so fcuking much and her voice it's just pure sex and ugh I need to stop now!