Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Just Playing Dead
He could see the commotion inside his apartment and he felt a thick sense of bile rise up in the back of his throat. They were in there, looking through his personal things, looking through the secrets he had kept from all of them. He hated the thought, despised the idea that they would know something about them that he didn't want them to. He wanted to run in there and order them all out, never see their faces again, never have to face this kind of intrusion. Hadn't he been invaded on enough? Was he also supposed to take this from the people he kept close around him as well?
He couldn't do any of that though, couldn't order them out or be angry because he had Harlow in his hold. His arms were already numb with her weight and his eyes were burning with unshed tears. He'd gotten plenty of looks from around the streets but he had walked up here from downtown LA he was sure a lot of things had happened in downtown that would make his walking around in that state pale in comparison. He wasn't sure if she was still alive, not giving himself a moment to check her pulse and even if he had he wouldn't be able to tell if it was just wishful thinking or something far different.
He had to think of it on his way back here. What would happen if she was dead? Would they blame him? Would they look at him and demand why he hadn't saved her sooner? He couldn't even begin to think of that, couldn't bear to see the look of despair on everyone's faces at the news, couldn't bear the hole inside of him that would stretch him furiously apart. He was nothing without her, she couldn't let go now.
Slowly he walked to the front door, shivering at the sight of the broken locks. They must have forced their way in, only he knew where the key to all of the locks was. With his foot he pushed at the door making it slowly creak open and a hush fell upon the commotion inside. No one moved though as if they had frozen in time, like they had all held their breaths in unison. Were they expecting him back? Or were they just going through his things to prove that he belonged where they had put him?
His place as a mess, his papers were strewn everywhere. People had dragged dirt onto the clean floor. There were trays of food set everywhere, empty cups, coffee cups. There were even people sleeping on the couch, in his bedroom. The place looked like a hangout and his insides slowly began to boil. This was what they did while he was gone? Go through his things and make his place a living area? Didn't they see that this place had been immaculate? Didn't they see that this place was his own and no one else's? They were ruining the one place that still mattered to him.
He didn't make a move though, he just stood there, Harlow's body in his arms, holding her close against his chest as he watched them all. He sought out his brother but he couldn't find him. At least not here in the living room or in the kitchen. He caught sight of the ceiling beams and he sucked in a breath. That waiter, where the hell had he disappeared to? Bodies just didn't disappear, it was impossible. This wasn't some stupid movie and crap like this didn't just happen in real life. There was always an explanation, always a reason.
He noticed that everyone's eyes were on Harlow. Her limp body in his arms, the blood dripping from her wound onto the carpet beneath him. Her dress was a mess, her hair tangled and stained. She was seemingly lifeless and everyone just stared at her in that state as if they were watching a ghost. Not a single person moved, not a single person spoke. He wasn't sure if that meant they didn't care or simply because they were afraid of what they would find if they did speak, if they did ask about what had happened.
Slowly, carefully he knelt down on the ground and carefully laid her on the carpet. He made small comforting sounds to her as he gently slid her head off his arm and brushed her hair out of her face even more. The smell of perfume was mingled with the intense scent of her blood, that dark smell of death that had fallen around her. She was so beautiful, even lying there lifeless. She was still the angel that had found him in his locked prison, still the heart that had filled his soul with life.
He left her laying there, brushing away- or trying to- the looks that everyone sent his way. He was so tired, so exhausted from the walk, from the time in the hospital. God, how long had he been in there? He wasn't even sure. How he had survived until he had finally escaped. His prison. It was like everyone was trying to lock him into one. Was his release so hard for anyone to accept? Why couldn't he just be free for once? He'd gone through too much already, gone through so much. There had to be an end, for once there had to be an end.
He moved away from the body ad headed towards the basement where he had noticed the door was opened. He took a heavy breath as he descended the stairs, his bare feet torn and blistered against each step. He heard hushed voices begin from the living room as footsteps began to move around. They were contemplating taking her to the hospital, someone finally shouted to call an ambulance. Someone had their senses about them, someone actually gave a damn. He wanted to rush back up there and make them all promise that they would take care of her but he needed to know who it was that was down in the basement.
The first thing he saw was his bin, sitting on the table's surface. Its lid was open and its contents were set on the table, other papers being shuffled through. Shannon was standing there, a look of sadness and disgust written on his features as he sifted through the evidence there in the box. Jared was frozen watching him, his insides broken as he watched his brother search through the evidence of the darkness he had found himself suffering in the past few months.
"Why is everyone in here?" Jared was surprised at the harshness of his own voice, his eyes watching Shannon carefully as he slowly made his way towards him. It was like he was carrying with him a sense of spite, a suspicion everytime he looked at his brother. This wasn't what he had expected from people. Help, maybe? But not this invasion, he couldn't even stomach it.
Shannon turned to him. A look of anger, relief, worry, concern and complete sadness washing over him as he stared at Jared. "Jared." He breathed out as he approached him and carefully put his arms around his younger brothers small frame.
Jared stood stiffly in Shannon's embrace, wanting to push him away but not finding the strength to do so. It offered a bit of consolation to his already bleeding heart, standing there broken in a desperate embrace. He felt the burn of tears in his eyes, his body began to tremble until finally he nearly collapsed onto his brother, his arms clutching weakly onto him. He could've screamed, could have hit something, could have done anything to release the despair filling him so painfully. But all he did was clutch onto Shannon, his breathing shallow and weak, hard and heavy.
He wasn't sure how long he had stayed standing there but soon enough he heard the sound of sirens echo from outside. Shannon broke the embrace first, his eyes squinting lightly with concern as he watched Jared, the sound of sirens reaching his ears. "An ambulance?" He questioned, his own tears having fallen from his dark eyes.
Jared nodded slowly, almost reluctantly."Harlow." He whispered and that was all that he could whisper, all he could say. Shannon didn't say anything and Jared knew that he would have to explain. He sucked in a breath and moved over to the table where the contents were laying out. He touched his hand over several items, several papers before lifting his eyes back to Shannon. He took in a breath, his eyes darkening and yet also somewhat brightening.
"I killed him." He whispered in a hoarse, tear stained voice. "It's over."
He couldn't do any of that though, couldn't order them out or be angry because he had Harlow in his hold. His arms were already numb with her weight and his eyes were burning with unshed tears. He'd gotten plenty of looks from around the streets but he had walked up here from downtown LA he was sure a lot of things had happened in downtown that would make his walking around in that state pale in comparison. He wasn't sure if she was still alive, not giving himself a moment to check her pulse and even if he had he wouldn't be able to tell if it was just wishful thinking or something far different.
He had to think of it on his way back here. What would happen if she was dead? Would they blame him? Would they look at him and demand why he hadn't saved her sooner? He couldn't even begin to think of that, couldn't bear to see the look of despair on everyone's faces at the news, couldn't bear the hole inside of him that would stretch him furiously apart. He was nothing without her, she couldn't let go now.
Slowly he walked to the front door, shivering at the sight of the broken locks. They must have forced their way in, only he knew where the key to all of the locks was. With his foot he pushed at the door making it slowly creak open and a hush fell upon the commotion inside. No one moved though as if they had frozen in time, like they had all held their breaths in unison. Were they expecting him back? Or were they just going through his things to prove that he belonged where they had put him?
His place as a mess, his papers were strewn everywhere. People had dragged dirt onto the clean floor. There were trays of food set everywhere, empty cups, coffee cups. There were even people sleeping on the couch, in his bedroom. The place looked like a hangout and his insides slowly began to boil. This was what they did while he was gone? Go through his things and make his place a living area? Didn't they see that this place had been immaculate? Didn't they see that this place was his own and no one else's? They were ruining the one place that still mattered to him.
He didn't make a move though, he just stood there, Harlow's body in his arms, holding her close against his chest as he watched them all. He sought out his brother but he couldn't find him. At least not here in the living room or in the kitchen. He caught sight of the ceiling beams and he sucked in a breath. That waiter, where the hell had he disappeared to? Bodies just didn't disappear, it was impossible. This wasn't some stupid movie and crap like this didn't just happen in real life. There was always an explanation, always a reason.
He noticed that everyone's eyes were on Harlow. Her limp body in his arms, the blood dripping from her wound onto the carpet beneath him. Her dress was a mess, her hair tangled and stained. She was seemingly lifeless and everyone just stared at her in that state as if they were watching a ghost. Not a single person moved, not a single person spoke. He wasn't sure if that meant they didn't care or simply because they were afraid of what they would find if they did speak, if they did ask about what had happened.
Slowly, carefully he knelt down on the ground and carefully laid her on the carpet. He made small comforting sounds to her as he gently slid her head off his arm and brushed her hair out of her face even more. The smell of perfume was mingled with the intense scent of her blood, that dark smell of death that had fallen around her. She was so beautiful, even lying there lifeless. She was still the angel that had found him in his locked prison, still the heart that had filled his soul with life.
He left her laying there, brushing away- or trying to- the looks that everyone sent his way. He was so tired, so exhausted from the walk, from the time in the hospital. God, how long had he been in there? He wasn't even sure. How he had survived until he had finally escaped. His prison. It was like everyone was trying to lock him into one. Was his release so hard for anyone to accept? Why couldn't he just be free for once? He'd gone through too much already, gone through so much. There had to be an end, for once there had to be an end.
He moved away from the body ad headed towards the basement where he had noticed the door was opened. He took a heavy breath as he descended the stairs, his bare feet torn and blistered against each step. He heard hushed voices begin from the living room as footsteps began to move around. They were contemplating taking her to the hospital, someone finally shouted to call an ambulance. Someone had their senses about them, someone actually gave a damn. He wanted to rush back up there and make them all promise that they would take care of her but he needed to know who it was that was down in the basement.
The first thing he saw was his bin, sitting on the table's surface. Its lid was open and its contents were set on the table, other papers being shuffled through. Shannon was standing there, a look of sadness and disgust written on his features as he sifted through the evidence there in the box. Jared was frozen watching him, his insides broken as he watched his brother search through the evidence of the darkness he had found himself suffering in the past few months.
"Why is everyone in here?" Jared was surprised at the harshness of his own voice, his eyes watching Shannon carefully as he slowly made his way towards him. It was like he was carrying with him a sense of spite, a suspicion everytime he looked at his brother. This wasn't what he had expected from people. Help, maybe? But not this invasion, he couldn't even stomach it.
Shannon turned to him. A look of anger, relief, worry, concern and complete sadness washing over him as he stared at Jared. "Jared." He breathed out as he approached him and carefully put his arms around his younger brothers small frame.
Jared stood stiffly in Shannon's embrace, wanting to push him away but not finding the strength to do so. It offered a bit of consolation to his already bleeding heart, standing there broken in a desperate embrace. He felt the burn of tears in his eyes, his body began to tremble until finally he nearly collapsed onto his brother, his arms clutching weakly onto him. He could've screamed, could have hit something, could have done anything to release the despair filling him so painfully. But all he did was clutch onto Shannon, his breathing shallow and weak, hard and heavy.
He wasn't sure how long he had stayed standing there but soon enough he heard the sound of sirens echo from outside. Shannon broke the embrace first, his eyes squinting lightly with concern as he watched Jared, the sound of sirens reaching his ears. "An ambulance?" He questioned, his own tears having fallen from his dark eyes.
Jared nodded slowly, almost reluctantly."Harlow." He whispered and that was all that he could whisper, all he could say. Shannon didn't say anything and Jared knew that he would have to explain. He sucked in a breath and moved over to the table where the contents were laying out. He touched his hand over several items, several papers before lifting his eyes back to Shannon. He took in a breath, his eyes darkening and yet also somewhat brightening.
"I killed him." He whispered in a hoarse, tear stained voice. "It's over."
Sign up to rate and review this story