Ewan Looks like a girl

[nikavia]

Okay so i typed and here is another part of that prolauge ish thingy i wrote at the beginning of live journal.

Follow the fake cut.....

Dancing

A flicker of light in the dark. A human life, come and gone in comparison to eternity. You blink, it’s gone too late, too bad. You never know when that one little thing will throw off the precarious balance between your life and your death. When an accident will send you hurtling towards your doom.

Most religions say something waits in the beyond, a place of peace for good people, not a place for sinners. Sinners aren’t supposed to get that second dance.

And I was a sinner. Out of the Seven Deadly Sins, I committed all of them in the hours before my death. I prided myself on an accomplishment. I ate two pieces of cake when I should have had one and ended up throwing it up later anyway. I accepted more money then I should have for a simple work. I was lazy when I should have celebrated. I lusted after the person I loved and was envious of the person at their side. And in anger and grief I died.

And the Ten Commandments? The person I loved had become my God and I painted masterpieces of them to become the idol of many. I cursed several times as I took my final gasping breaths, the darkness closing in from all sides. I worked on the day I should have rested. I yelled at the parents that I should have loves. My heart was not with the person at my side as I coveted a person on another’s arm. I stole a razor from my best friend’s cabinet. I lied to him, saying that I was fine. And Finally I murdered myself, bled to death and died.

end prolauge

~|*|~

Dying

The day I killed myself was supposed to be a good day. My roommate made me pancakes with really good syrup and even got me my favorite coffee from down the street. Normally I am a morning person but I had fallen asleep in the studio and hadn’t heard my alarm go off.

My roommate, Jay or Jay Elias Deron the Third if I was in a teasing mood, is a photographer, models and such. Me? I’m just a painter… or I was. We were opposites in a lot of ways. Um for one, he’s alive and I’m dead…I think. He was content, I was sulky. He could talk and be charming without being paranoid. He could actually date on a regular basis although serial dater does come to mind when I think about it. His current date is Vondra…It’s okay, you can laugh. I know I did. He did not like that and refused to speak to me for a day. How are you supposed to react when someone has a name that makes you think of vampiric Romania and every time you see her, you expect her to be in full gypsy garb (or in that outfit the chick wore in Van Helsing… lickable) with a Dracula accent.

Moving on. Jay and I had a gallery showing later that night. I would say our first but that would be a lie. In essence it was our first though and that doesn’t sound like a sex reference does it? So it was supposed to be "get ready for the show" day right? Ha as if. My roomie may have a job that allows him to slack off for hours at a time while he waits for models to show up but I had a job on the side. SO I went off to work in an uncomfortable suit, to a really big building where I do accounting for a pretty successful company. Boring job but I am good and number crunching. Vondra also works there but she works higher up then me. It’s hard not to laugh around Jay but around my boss? Damn near fucking impossible. So I go to work and do perfect on my accounting( I know, my boss said "Perfect accounting Mr. Dannon"), went home and locked myself in the studio before realizing I had locked Jay in with me. After Jay taunted the hell out of me, saying the numbers were making me crazy (haha), a comment for which earned him a halfhearted smack upside the head, I shoved him out the door. The studio was mine today. Then I went over to my secret project…

I Really hope he doesn’t look at that. Or any of it. You know when parents loose a kid and they go through his stuff and find out that their 4.4 GPA honors and AP course son with eyes on the best schools is secretly having mad passionate sex with the closeted captain of the soccer team and his favorite position is to be handcuffed to the headboard of his rich boyfriends four-poster and be thoroughly molested. Oh lest we forget they are in love and he wasn’t invited to the funeral.

Okay, that sounded like a confession. Not that I was sleeping with the soccer captain. My cousin is… he is still alive though and I actually know far too much about his personal life. He called a lot…I’m his favorite family member… Usually after sex. Feels the need to tell me he has a love life and I am lacking.

I just got way off topic… Where was I? Sorry, I guess being dead makes you a bit tangential. As I was previously saying, I went to work on my secret project, which since it is a secret, it will remain a secret. After that and skipping on a few hours while meanwhile being harassed by fanatics and having the terror and pressure of feeling worthless start to set in (always happened at night for some reason), we move to the gallery during which people paid me large some of money for stuff I thought was a piece of crap. Apparently my art spoke to them but they got my moods wrong, saying I must have felt <insert happy emotion> but in fact I was feeling homicidal at the moment. Kind of annoying really. My parents came. My parents still believe that being a successful artist who paints kinda-graphic-not-pure-Christian-values versus getting a real job and being best friends with an atheist with wrong political leanings means I am going straight to hell. My father is a minister. They feel the need to warn me about hell every few seconds whenever I am in their presence. My Parents have a wonderful skill called making you feel worthless no matter how great you become and have you paranoid. Me being suicidal hasn’t helped the hell speeches of the worthless feeling either. And me having constant urges to try and doing so also have not helped. When I was 12 I took drug cocktail and puked it up but kept tying to shove pills down my throat to die. I was caught and got sent for counseling for my poser teenage angst. At 14 I tired again, this time using strangulation but had forgotten I had a best friend on his way over who found me and stopped me. This time I got a year of counseling at parents telling me to stop attention craving. You would think after two attempts they would take me seriously but no. They believed I was a God fearing child who did not want to go to hell. Then we get to attempt number three. At 16 I tried again to kill myself and almost won. I slit my wrists and crawled into nice water filled scab-preventing bathtub. Once again foiled. I got sent to a psychiatric ward this time for 6 months and meds for the next 5 years. I have been off meds now for a bit and really have felt pretty good but now looking back at all the other attempts, those days all started out a good days.

My various shrinks said I had sudden depression, like suddenly I felt like the world just collapsed in on me and that would be when I should take me meds. Seeing as I stopped taking meds years ago this plan did not work as shrinks had planned. But their theory can be proven. I had a nice apartment that I shared with my best friend of 20 years, I had two moneymaking careers, and I had lots of money. Why would I want to die? Because I felt helpless, hopeless, and unwanted all at the same time after being happy mere minutes before. I felt worse then I did when I was 12,14,or 16, and it happened much faster. Suddenly I just wanted to die and I knew how to do it and I was sure no one would care. I would be written into the history books as the "he was fine earlier" suicide and I was fine with that. It may sound petty and unreasonable but given my worthless feelings I felt even worse when I saw the one I loved, smiling oblivious to the chaos they were accidentally causing in my mind.

When I told Jay I was going home, I had already decided to kill myself, make no mistake. I simply wanted to give him a chance to see if he saw my need to hurt myself.

"You tired?" was all he asked looking at Vondra, who was plastered to his side in a rather revealing dress. Now, for those of us who have ever been depressed, having the person who knows you best and the person you trust to be there not notice when you feel like shit, it’s rather upsetting and only makes you feel more alone, unloved and hated. I muttered that I was and left out a back door. The trip back to the apartment only made me feel worse. I hate being alone in cars when my choices are love songs or country.

When I got to the apartment I broke into Jay’s room and stole his disposable razor. Why not my own? Because mine was trashed this morning when I dropped it. I broke his razor to, snapping out the thin blades and throwing the mangled plastic away. Stepping into his bathroom, I rolled up my sleeves and started cutting. It began as designs, lacing around my wrists as the climbed. I shed my dress shirt when it began to get in the way the designs moving onto my chest. It was about this time I realized my hand was jerking and that I was sobbing, the blood dripping onto the floor.

I Got up and walked into his room to pick up his phone. Walking back to the bathroom so as not to stain his floor I dialed his cell, wiping tears away with the back of my hand. I got his voice mail, which was odd as he almost never had his phone off.

"Jay… ? It’s uh Alec… I’m not… feeling so good. I… I just wanna… god… shit…I’m feeling very alone and I just feel bad and… I can’t think. It hurts and I’m gunna die and I wanted you to be there so you could… well I just wanted to call… I wanted to tell you…maybe I might feel better but I can’t…you’re a good friend Jay. I’ll be in your bathroom so… uh… bye" After hanging up from a phone call now playing on repeat in my head I sat down next to the bathtub, the razor cutting into me. Not to sound like an artist but I think I was the picture of a troubled suicide. Before I slit my wrists I carved two last things into my chest in the fresh skin over my heart. "Save me" and the name of my love. Then slitting my wrists I laid down to die. laughter came then as well as the cussing and praising as I finally achieved what had taken 14 years to do. My last thought as I flickered out was a desperate wish that Jay hadn’t had his phone off.

And then I died.Here I wait in this between land. It’s not limbo. That’s over there. A different fate waits for me. I can see the blood all over me and the last words I said echo around me. I don’t know how long I’ve been here and I am beginning not to care. I see a light coming closer and as it envelops me I dimly wonder if Jay ever got my message and what I was trying to say.

end chapter one

In other news i still love collin (ALOT ALOT ALOT ALOT)(and got ezi hooked too... i rule) but girly ewan comes in second.

Nighto

Nyssa