Categories > Original > Drama

Blue

by Estrikit 1 review

Sometimes, Vern wishes that the blue sky would just swallow him whole.

Category: Drama - Rating: R - Genres: Angst - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2010-06-14 - Updated: 2010-06-14 - 814 words - Complete

1Ambiance
Vern likes the blue sky, reaching up to the heavens with a hand wide open and just barely touching the fluffy white clouds as they soar above. There is something about the endless abyss upwards that captivates the usually restless male. Sometimes, he just wants to be swallowed whole by it.

All Vern sees now are dirty, dirty walls which are not blue like the sky but dark and stained and wrongwrongwrong. In fact, he hasn't seen the sky for months now, and he thinks he's forgotten how much he's missed it. Unfocused blue grey eyes only stare at these horrible obstructions because otherwise, he is looking at the masked face hovering above his naked body and that does no good.

The mask is plain, not dirty but not blue either, and Vern thinks he may feel a bitter twinge of grief in a heart he's not sure works properly anymore (because there is no more love, only loathing for everyone else but mostly himself). The mask isn't smiling, but neither is he. The mask doesn't laugh, but neither does he. Maybe he and the mask aren't so different after all; Vern wears a mask all the time now because he's afraid of what people would think if they saw what was under it.

He knows the blade is there before he feels it, can hear it being slid slowly out but can hear it better as it slices along his hip. Slowly, slowly, no need to rush. That scream doesn't belong to him at first and his furry ears ("Cat," the masked man whispers, feeling along the edge of one twitching appendage and it isn't right) are ringing but that scream really is his and he knows it when a filthy clawed hand slaps him dizzyingly. And all he can do now is whimper and choke on a sob, though there are no tears. Vern hasn't cried in a long time and one booboo won't make him start.

It takes forever, cold steel gripped in a filthy clawed hand dragging across his hip to his waist and up up in an arc across his ribs. White and black peppery spots dance in front of those hazy unmindful eyes and he thinks It's over he'll stab me or I'll bleed to death and nobody will miss me. and this thought saddens the ebony haired man with the kitty ears more than ever. Nobody will miss him because he misses nobody. Except for the sky. He'll miss the blue sky and that's almost enough to make tears well up through the scorching pain.

It's over too soon even though it feels like forever, but the masked stranger who neither smiles nor laughs appears to be in a hurry. Vern is left alone, bleeding, with a knife still resting neatly in a bloody crevasse that goes from his hip to his waist to his ribs to his diaphragm, curved gently and oh it hurts so much but all he wants to do is live for another day. He doesn't think that he wants to, but his body says otherwise and he's already choking back bile as he gets up to find something decent to cover himself with.

The blood still drips but Vern seems not to notice, instead pulling himself out into a sparsely occupied hallway. He feels shamed, more than ever, because people are glancing to him in pity and he glances back with a cold rage because they didn't help him and it's all their fault. But there's the door, and Vern knows he won't get away from these stained and dirty and horrible walls but he wants to see the blue sky before he either drops dead or is dragged back in by one of the burly men in coats much like the one he sports now (Vern will never wear one again and it feels dirty just to be in his ratty and torn trench coat).

With the last of his strength, he pushes open the door and stares up into the clouds. These clouds are too dark and not white enough. There is not even a hint of blue, and Vern vaguely realises he's standing out in the cold rain. He's glad that the water streaming down his face mixes with his tears, because then nobody will know that he's crying so hard and it hurts but he can't stop and the blood just flows thickly to the ground.

Vern collapses to his knees, head bowed as he sobs and feels much more lightheaded than before. Too much blood. Perhaps if he dies now, he'll be able to see the abyss once more and reach up with a hand wide open barely touching but that's good enough for him. There is no such luck, and Vern finally passes out with tears in his eyes and endless blue skies on his lips.
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