Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > This Is What It Means To Fall
Brendon easily took care of the body and returned to find that Juliette was still asleep. He’d given her some very strong sleeping pills so that didn’t come as such a huge surprise to him. He just needed her to sleep. When he saw her face he realized his mistake. He never should have let her witness Anne’s death. He just thought it would be easier for her to see so that she could accept it. He was wrong.
Juliette shifted in bed and let out a small cry.
Brendon shook her lightly, wanting to wake her from her obvious nightmare.
It took a few shakes before Juliette began to wake and then she pushed Brendon away. At first he thought it was because of Anne but then she stumbled past him to the bathroom and he could hear that she was sick.
Brendon wasn’t a stupid man.
Things fell in to place quickly for him.
There was a very real possibility that Juliette was pregnant, seeing as how Brendon had never used a condom with her nor given her any form of birth control.
… but again, she could just be sick because she just saw someone she cared about murdered right in front of her.
Brendon sighed as the options swirled in his mind. He wasn’t the father type, nor the husband type. He was a killer, and a sadist.
Finally he shut his thoughts down and went to the bathroom to check on Juliette.
**
(Juliette’s POV)
Seconds passed, turning in to minutes and as the minutes passed they somehow turned in to hours which seemed to blend in to days.
I watched the sun rise and fall and still nothing made sense to me. The thoughts swirling around in my mind didn’t start magically making sense, and the pain didn’t disappear. It was shoved back but I could still feel it. It was barely there, like a word tickling the tip of my tongue.
Brendon didn’t bother me much.
He tried to talk to me for the first few minutes, which were probably actually the first few days, and then from there he left me alone- most of the time anyway.
It didn’t matter though, nothing really mattered.
He wasn’t good, and I wasn’t good and together we weren’t good. I was the reason that Anne was dead. I could have gone for help. I could have saved her. Instead I went back to Brendon and risked her life. I made a dumb decision and now I was paying for it.
The door creaked open but I didn’t look up.
Brendon’s voice shocked me. It felt as if it had been years since I’d heard it. “How are you feeling?”
When I looked up at him I could still see the blood and taste the fear. It was weird how things like that stuck in your mind, forever polluting your soul. I didn’t think either of us would ever be the same, and I sure as hell knew Anne would never be the same. She was dead. Death was so final, and I was so guilt ridden. Why couldn’t Brendon just kill me? Eventually he probably would. I was losing my worth as I slipped away. I was just a shell, and who wanted that? “Cold.” I finally answered.
His lips parted and he breathed out.
My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and so I continued speaking though my words carried no value. “I am cold.”
Brendon stepped forward gracefully, pulling the blanket that was behind me forward. “Now I’m warm.” I lamely continued.
Brendon smiled gently, making me feel as if I were on my death bed with some unknown illness. “I miss you. Do you think that I could sleep next to you tonight?” Where had he been sleeping? I hadn’t thought much of it actually.
“I’m tired.”
“Would you like me to lay down with you?” Brendon asked. I didn’t care much for sparking his hope. Whatever had been between us felt dead. I felt dead. He just hadn’t killed me yet.
“No.” The word was simple yet carried so much weight.
Brendon awkwardly shifted. “Well, let me at least make you something to eat. You haven’t been eating. You have to be hungry.”
“I’m not going to eat.” It felt good to talk, now I wanted to yell. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to have a full blown temper tantrum. I wanted Brendon to pay for how he was making me feel, and for what he’d done to Anne.
“You have to.” Brendon pressed the issue in his newly found gentle tone. I hated it. And he reeked of alcohol. I hated that too. I hated everything about him now, and everything about me.
We were two pathetic excuses for human beings, and Anne had gotten screwed over by having to spend the last of her days with us.
“If you make me eat anything I will simply make myself throw it up.” I promised Brendon in a quiet tone.
He let out a string of curse words and left the room, loudly slamming the door behind him. I felt the vibrations and sighed, unable to find myself upset at all.
I was dead inside, and it was all because of my own decisions.
**
(Brendon’s POV)
The cold air stung my skin but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. At this point I needed a release and I’d gotten too attached to Juliette. It wasn’t healthy, but nothing about my lifestyle was healthy.
Love was a different kind of pain though, and Juliette had me in a world of hurt.
“I love your music.” The stripper beside me purred. Every single one of her assets were on display as she sat as close to me as she possibly could. The cold wind blew past us but she wasn’t bothered in the least.
“Do you?” I murmured carelessly. She was just a simple fix, for such a complex problem.
“I do…” Her finger trailed down to my zipper and even I didn’t give a fuck about my music at that point. I just needed release with this fucking slut, and I needed it now. I needed to use her because I was dirty scum- there was nothing pure about me besides Juliette, and I had already broken her.
I would never be a good person, ‘cause there was nothing good about me.
**
(I swear things will be picking up relatively soon!)
Juliette shifted in bed and let out a small cry.
Brendon shook her lightly, wanting to wake her from her obvious nightmare.
It took a few shakes before Juliette began to wake and then she pushed Brendon away. At first he thought it was because of Anne but then she stumbled past him to the bathroom and he could hear that she was sick.
Brendon wasn’t a stupid man.
Things fell in to place quickly for him.
There was a very real possibility that Juliette was pregnant, seeing as how Brendon had never used a condom with her nor given her any form of birth control.
… but again, she could just be sick because she just saw someone she cared about murdered right in front of her.
Brendon sighed as the options swirled in his mind. He wasn’t the father type, nor the husband type. He was a killer, and a sadist.
Finally he shut his thoughts down and went to the bathroom to check on Juliette.
**
(Juliette’s POV)
Seconds passed, turning in to minutes and as the minutes passed they somehow turned in to hours which seemed to blend in to days.
I watched the sun rise and fall and still nothing made sense to me. The thoughts swirling around in my mind didn’t start magically making sense, and the pain didn’t disappear. It was shoved back but I could still feel it. It was barely there, like a word tickling the tip of my tongue.
Brendon didn’t bother me much.
He tried to talk to me for the first few minutes, which were probably actually the first few days, and then from there he left me alone- most of the time anyway.
It didn’t matter though, nothing really mattered.
He wasn’t good, and I wasn’t good and together we weren’t good. I was the reason that Anne was dead. I could have gone for help. I could have saved her. Instead I went back to Brendon and risked her life. I made a dumb decision and now I was paying for it.
The door creaked open but I didn’t look up.
Brendon’s voice shocked me. It felt as if it had been years since I’d heard it. “How are you feeling?”
When I looked up at him I could still see the blood and taste the fear. It was weird how things like that stuck in your mind, forever polluting your soul. I didn’t think either of us would ever be the same, and I sure as hell knew Anne would never be the same. She was dead. Death was so final, and I was so guilt ridden. Why couldn’t Brendon just kill me? Eventually he probably would. I was losing my worth as I slipped away. I was just a shell, and who wanted that? “Cold.” I finally answered.
His lips parted and he breathed out.
My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and so I continued speaking though my words carried no value. “I am cold.”
Brendon stepped forward gracefully, pulling the blanket that was behind me forward. “Now I’m warm.” I lamely continued.
Brendon smiled gently, making me feel as if I were on my death bed with some unknown illness. “I miss you. Do you think that I could sleep next to you tonight?” Where had he been sleeping? I hadn’t thought much of it actually.
“I’m tired.”
“Would you like me to lay down with you?” Brendon asked. I didn’t care much for sparking his hope. Whatever had been between us felt dead. I felt dead. He just hadn’t killed me yet.
“No.” The word was simple yet carried so much weight.
Brendon awkwardly shifted. “Well, let me at least make you something to eat. You haven’t been eating. You have to be hungry.”
“I’m not going to eat.” It felt good to talk, now I wanted to yell. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to have a full blown temper tantrum. I wanted Brendon to pay for how he was making me feel, and for what he’d done to Anne.
“You have to.” Brendon pressed the issue in his newly found gentle tone. I hated it. And he reeked of alcohol. I hated that too. I hated everything about him now, and everything about me.
We were two pathetic excuses for human beings, and Anne had gotten screwed over by having to spend the last of her days with us.
“If you make me eat anything I will simply make myself throw it up.” I promised Brendon in a quiet tone.
He let out a string of curse words and left the room, loudly slamming the door behind him. I felt the vibrations and sighed, unable to find myself upset at all.
I was dead inside, and it was all because of my own decisions.
**
(Brendon’s POV)
The cold air stung my skin but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. At this point I needed a release and I’d gotten too attached to Juliette. It wasn’t healthy, but nothing about my lifestyle was healthy.
Love was a different kind of pain though, and Juliette had me in a world of hurt.
“I love your music.” The stripper beside me purred. Every single one of her assets were on display as she sat as close to me as she possibly could. The cold wind blew past us but she wasn’t bothered in the least.
“Do you?” I murmured carelessly. She was just a simple fix, for such a complex problem.
“I do…” Her finger trailed down to my zipper and even I didn’t give a fuck about my music at that point. I just needed release with this fucking slut, and I needed it now. I needed to use her because I was dirty scum- there was nothing pure about me besides Juliette, and I had already broken her.
I would never be a good person, ‘cause there was nothing good about me.
**
(I swear things will be picking up relatively soon!)
Sign up to rate and review this story