Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > As Your Nightmare Comes To Life

Sometimes Only Paper Will Listen To You (Chapter 2)

by XxxFallenAngelXxxx 3 reviews

It was at a very young age I had learnt that sometimes only paper would listen to you…

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG - Genres: Angst,Drama - Published: 2011-11-03 - Updated: 2011-11-04 - 1486 words

Hey, So this is the second chapter. I know that it still doesn`t sound very killjoy-ey, but it will soon. Okay? Anyway, hope you like this, please let me know if you do.
Everyone has a fear.
Most will never admit it, they are the ones that pretended to be brave, but in reality were foolish, extremely foolish.
What are you afraid of? More than anything in the world?
Death? Monsters? Ghosts?
What frightens you most in this world, what monstrous terrors keep you awake at night, keeps you in its icy, evil grasp?
The striking, unusual pale skinned girl sat at the glass table in her run down flat on this rather dismal, damp April day had many fears. She had secrets too, dark ones, mystic ones that she and only she could ever know about. She had hopes too and dreams, but many, if not all of them she was certain would never come true. Her nightmares on the other hand, her deepest, darkest fears she prayed would never see the light of day.
That girls name was Dakota, Dakota Nyx. A different name, one that was unique as it was confusing. It described the black and blue haired girl well. Very well indead.
She was an outsider, she wasn`t normal, not right in the brain so they said. She was a mystery, something that many of her old peers had been afraid to get close to, in case of angering her or getting involved with something out of the ordinary. She had seen worlds that didn’t belong, heard the poisonous whispers of creatures that shouldn’t be allowed to exist and yet somehow did. In her twisted, not quite right mind at least….
Nobody really knew her, or why everyone one in the small, boring town in the middle of the unspoiled, English countryside ignored her. It was just something that had been done ever since the now twenty three year old girl had been born on that dismal, dreary october night. She was strange, there was no doubt about it, the way she always hid herself away throughout her early teenage years, immersed in books, in fantasy worlds that were not real. The way that she would stare right through you with her emerald eyes as if you weren’t there, and on the rare occasions she did speak, it would be in a clam, melodic voice that still somehow managed to hold some kind of authority, despite her young age.
The town people had came to the decision that she was different, wrong even, many years ago. And she had accepted that long ago as well. She pretended that it didn`t bother her in the slightest, Dakota wasn`t like most other girls, she didn`t want to be center of attention. She didn`t care about being popular or fitting in. But it would be nice for just once in her life to have soemone who understood her, to be able to fully understand herself would be a start.

The simple fact was that Dakota Nyx was not living in the real world; she was living in a fantasy world, her own little world she had created to block out the harsh, cold reality. She was living alone, in a twisted yet colourful place that was full of beautiful dreams that were tainted, only by the dismal and bleak reality.

Dakota`s pov
“Dakota are you in?” a harsh knock at the front door brings me back to the dismal real world, plucking me from my day dream.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” I ask using the same tone I always did with her, an emotionless one. She was used to it by now, after twenty three years of it. It did not bother her, I knew. Just like I knew she was sonly really pretending to care, just for the sake of the upkeep of her reputation in this small, gossiping town.
“I have come to check on you, you know that your father and I dislike you living here all on your own in this flat, with no living soul for company.”
I frown at this statement, my perfectly painted red lips curving downwards as I watch my over controlling mother barge her way into my flat, tutting and making faces at the condition it was in.
Used cups and dishes were piled up in the sink; others lay on the drying board still not put way yet. The brush stood lopsided in the corner, a pile of dirt yet to be swept up into the bin beside it; the disgusted look my mother was giving me could have turned me into dust.
“I see you have been bust since you so stupidly left Law School.” She mutters bitterly, placing her designer leather handbag down on the small glass and wood table, before hesitantly taking a seat on the couch.
“Of course I have.” She narrows her eyes, taking in the disaster zone that was my rented, one bed room flat with distain.
I stay silent, waiting for the bitter outburst that was sure to come about my dropping out of university earlier this year, where I had been studying for my law degree. I had always planned on being a lawyer, a barrister. Well, to tell the truth it had always been my parent’s idea, they had been absolutely livid when I had informed them I had left.
But my heart hadn’t been in it, not from the start. And I firmly believed that if your heart wasn’t in it, then there was no pint in doing anything. If what you were doing didn’t make you happy then why do it?
Besides, law was just yawn boring, and I wanted excitant, and a real sense of adventure, I craved it. I needed it like the air that filled my lungs, like the blood that coursed through my veins. And as I was never going to achieve that in this boring little insignificant town I had begun to write and draw, to do anything that would let my imagination flow and to let me create my own adventure.
Mother hadn’t approved.
“Honestly, Dakota,” she picks up a piece of a4 white paper with the rough outline sketch of my latest drawing. When it was completed it would show four men, each with rather bright, rebellious clothing, one with bright red hair and another with messy curls. I knew little about these men, but they were the main characters of a new story I had been writing over the past few weeks.
The Fabulous Killjoys.
“What is this?” Mum places the drawing down, and picks up my favourite notebook the one I kept all my character information in and begins to flick through it, ignoring my protests.
“Kobra kid and Party Poison?” she asks a confused, irritated look on her face.
“They are The Fabulous Killjoys,” I mumble under my breath. Seeing the confusion thicken I begin to explain further, not seeing why I was bothering really.
“They are in my new story, the main characters.” I shuffle my feet awkwardly, hating the way my own mother could still make me, a twenty three year old woman feel less than a centimetre tall in my own house.
“Dakota Nyx,” she says my name sternly, spiting she only did when she was very mad at me. “You need to stop this endless day dreaming and get your head screwed on right and get back into reality and out of the fucking clouds!” She spits at me, slamming the black notebook shut and hurling it across the small room. Then she grabs her bag and leaves, slamming the door shut behind hr.
I stare shocked at the door, tears pricking my eyes I was determined would not fall.
“How dare she treat me like this, even now?” I ask myself, though secretly not really blaming her. I was a disappointment and I always head been, I was far from the perfect daughter that they had always wanted. Like she sad I always had my head in the clouds, something I found myself unable to stop. It wasn’t as though I even knew how to stop it, it wasn’t even always pleasant, my day dreams were often nightmares as well.
I walk slowly across the room and pick up the notebook, gently stroking the page where it had torn.
My stories were personal to me; the blank paper had comforted me on many dark, lonely and painful tear-filled nights. It had listened when nobody else bothered to; I had been able to get all of my wretched feelings out without having to embarrass myself in front of my uncaring parents.
It was at a very young age I had learnt that sometimes only paper would listen to you…
Sign up to rate and review this story