Strange things happen in the new house of the Way family. Wow what a summary...*edited* please R&R?
So thins story is mainly to get me back into writing.
The first chapter's pretty cliche...nothing extraordinary, but I do hope you'll take time out of your busy schedule to drop me a review.
I love feedback :D
So, hopefully you'll enjoy this...
He Calls The Mansion Not A House But A Tomb-Chapter 1
A New Home
‘We’re here’ are the first words Gerard hears, previously having been absorbed in his thoughts. He is seated safely in the back seat of his mother’s car, staring out of the window with glazed over eyes, expressionless face squashed against the cold surface. Watching the transparent substance fog up as his moist breath hits its coldness distracts him from the rather urgent, pressing matters at hand, turns the nagging thoughts biting, scratching, tearing at the insides of his skull down a notch.
He gives a slight nod of the head to acknowledge the words directed at him, but otherwise shows no signs of interest. He looks more like a statue build out of stone than a 17 years old teenager nursing a unhealthily big caffeine addiction.
Not to mention the music blasting in his ears. His IPod’s turned up to full volume and the smashing sounds of drums mixed with the violent roaring of guitars and the anguished screams emitted by a raspy yet melodic voice form a blanket of sound engulfing him like a cocoon. Breaking through this barrier build up around him is not an easy task so naturally it takes a few times until he reacts.
The music is meant to block out his environment, stop the constant mind numbing sensations of the outside world from flooding his body. He can’t deal with more of these oppressing feelings. It is to strengthen the barrier he has build up between himself and the rest of the world so he can deal with the ghastly thoughts already threatening to take over his mind.
He’s been hiding those very well, considering he’s been trying to kill them at the same time. But they always come back with a vengeance right at the very moment he deems himself safe. They come back to haunt him, slaughter his reason, brutally maim and dismember his sanity, violate his soul until he’s dragged down into a pitch black abyss, all hopes obscured by a thick layer of disarrayed but prominent, stark despair. Yet he never gives up, struggles to surface again and keep a grip on his sanity.
But this neverending fighting has been constantly wearing him down and in the end someone had to notice. How couldn’t they?
He’s become awfully quiet over the last few months, withdrawing himself more and more. He’s stopped going out and exchanged talking to friends for entering the realm of his darkest thoughts. His inner demons are now his best friends and constant companions against his will.
But he is yet to succeed in destroying them.
And then his mother had the wonderful idea to move town, forcing him to cut the last sparsely threaded ties to fellow human beings he still had. With no more friends left, he’s started to zone out of real life completely, a vacant look evening out the pained look usually adorning his eyes.
Right now they’re on their way to their new home, located at the outskirts of a small town somewhere in godknowswhatthefuck. Secluded from the rest of the town their residence is said to be rather big, or so he recalls his mother saying.
Oh right, his mother.
He snaps out of his trance like state, removing his headphones from his ears and stuffing them into the top of his hoodie. Turning around he’s met with his mother’s disappointed yet aggravated face, annoyance and disapproval lacing her eyes as she glares at her oldest son. He pulls his lips up slightly to perform what he hopes to be an apologetic smile, but judging by his brother’s bemused expression it must have looked more like a grimace.
He can feel his mother’s glare hardening as he starts to stuff his headphones back into his ears, so he stops moving right there. Posture frozen he stares right back, catching his mother’s gaze and withstanding the fierce, yet in an odd way loving look thrown his way. The tension is almost palpable so he decides to pause the music blasting though his eardrums and turns his full attention to the death glare he is currently receiving.
Looking into her eldest son’s eyes Donna lets her expression soften and just smiles sadly. Gently she shakes her head from one side to the other, making a blonde strand she had pushed behind her ear fall into her face. She pushes the lonely curl back, using only her pointer finger. A nervous habit she has.
‘Just…give it a chance, please?’ she begs her son, trying to sound encouraging. As she get’s no response she just sighs resignedly and gets out of the car.
R&R please :) and tell me if it's worth continuing?