Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses

Where Do You Think You're Going?

by AxlsQueen 2 reviews

Billy didn't take the cigarette away, tho he felt the burning pain on his farearm, felt the burning ash scorch his skin. It was the pain that still kept him alive. His fear of dying that kept him h...

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2013-04-21 - 1143 words

-Where do you think you're going, don't you know it's dark outside?
Where do you think you're going, don't you care about my pride?-

This time it should have been forever, this time the door he shut quietly when he left should have stayed shut and he believed it would stay. 
Little did he know, as always when he once more decided it was time to throw the past in a trashcan. He hadn't been to make it to that point yet.
Something had stopped him from making it better and that something was pure fear. He had known fear for all his life but making it worse instead of making it better was the biggest of them all so he returned like a beaten dog before the break of dawn, curled up under his blanket like he had never left and cried until it was time for waking up. 
When he now stepped out into the cold february night he was sure of making it, when he turned his back to the house he had lived in for so many years he was sure of walking this street for the last time ever in his life. 

Billy had never had good memories of Lafayette, maybe there had been a few but all he could recall was torture, screams and beatings. He was soon to turn seventeen when he first found out the man he had believed to be his father all his life wasn't his real dad at all. His real dad was a truck driver, Billy had no idea where he was at this very moment. 

He wasn't William Bailey anymore, he was William Rose now, he used his actual fathers name to state he didn't want to belong to this family. But William Rose still couldn't escape his past, he had no place to go and no one who could possibly help him. 

His feet scraped on the gravel and the pouring rain wetted his clothes, cold water ran down his back, dripping from his hair. He had started to grow it, a little for protest and a little because he liked it. It was reaching his chin by now, still far away from how he wanted it to be.  
"Stupid asshole!" someone yelled and Billy jumped aside when he heard the sudden sound of a honking car. 
The driver gave him the finger and covered him in dirty water when he drove through a puddle on the ground. 
Billy had almost made it to the edge of town now, hands in his pockets and his head down, the furthest he had ever made it was 5 miles down the road from the bus stop at the general store.
What were those chains holding him here? 

The bus stop appeared in his sight, the lights of bars mirrored on the wet tar and brooks of dirty water ran to the gutters. His jeans jacket was anything but enough to keep him warm or at least dry but he honestly preferred it that way. It felt like the rain washed away what had once more been happening tonight. He never felt dirtier than after his stepfather abused him, he never felt as vulnerable, hurt and... Yes, worthless. 

He shed tears about it at night but he cried silently because he wanted him to think it wasn't affecting him.
Billy managed not to scream, not to cry and even to look into his father's eyes afterwards, hoped to make him feel bad for what he did. Deep inside he knew he didn't but at least it reduced the power he had on him. Looking into his emotionless eyes reduced the pleasure screwing his stepson gave him.  

Yet Billy had never spared a single thought about telling someone. Who would believe him though?
No one. He knew. 

He studied the schedule even though he had no idea what time it was and had no watch to look at. 

The bus stop had always been his favorite place in town because it was his portal to the world. The portal he would walk through just like he saw all the other people do it.

Billy slowly became aware that he wouldn't be doing it tonight. He would once more return to his own private hell. 
When that sunk in he just sat down on the one and only seat and rested his back against the glass wall behind him.
Cars flashing by lit up the thick, overwhelming darkness every now and then when he searched all his pockets for a cigarette and a lighter. He found both and angrily smashed the lighter on the wet tar after he took his first pull. 
Billy kicked it on the street and watched how it was overrolled by the next car going by. Destroying things gave him a little satisfaction, a small feeling of power. 

He sunk down on the seat again, supported his arms with his knees and morosely chewed on his cigarette while he stared into the darkness. 
Even though he had only turned seventeen a few days ago, Billy appeared so much older. He felt much older, too. To him it was like so many years had passed, like he had spent decades in this wrecked dump he was to call home. Billy exhaled through his mouth and blew rings of smoke up into the air. He could barely see them against the dark sky which was only lighted up by the trillions of stars sprinkling it. He still watched as smoke rose up into the air and eventually vanished into the night.

He let his train of thought run free for a while. Why even was he alive in the first place? Life had only brought him torture and it didn't seem like it was getting any better. He wasn't even able to get out of here, what was he even doing, where was he heading with his life? Who would even miss him? He was a loner, a freak, no one even tried to understand him and no one knew. 

He closed his eyes and gasped when he felt the well known burning pain on his forearm. Though he could feel the burning ash scorch his skin he didn't take the cigarette away. 
The pain reminded him of how afraid he was of dying. In fact, his fear of dying was the only thing that held him in this world. If he wouldn't think on how much it must hurt to end one's life he would be long gone. 

A tear ran down his face when he finally threw the dog-end onto the ground. He left it there, it was gleaming when he got up and once more returned home, tears streaming down his cheeks mixing with the still pouring rain. He cried silent, bitter tears and hated himself for his weakness. 
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