The Myth of Love Chapter 1-3 (First Complete Draft Part 1)

Sep 28, 2008 - 11:38 AM PST

Please comment on this, sense it is my first draft I need as much feed back as I can get... Thanks in advance.

The Myth of Love

By Aaron Newell


~~~~~~Table Of Contents~~~~~~

Chapter 1- Vermilion Pt. 2 (Slipknot)
Chapter 2- Fallen Angels (Ra)
~Interlude~
Chapter 3- Hello (Evanescence)
Chapter 4- Hey There Delilah (Plain White T’s)
Chapter 5- Life is Beautiful (Sixx:AM)
Chapter 6- My Last Breath (Evanescence)
Chapter 7- Illusion (VNV Nation)



WARNING: THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR PERSONS OF WEAK CONSTUTION… THERE ARE SEENES OF EXTREAM VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, AND SEXUALITY… THIS BOOK IS ALSO NOT FOR PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 14, OR PERSONS WHO HAVE HEART PROBLEMS AND/OR PACEMAKER… THE BOOK IS NOT SUITABLE FOR PERSONS WHO ARE ON HEART MEDICATION AND/OR PRESCRIPTION DRUGS… THOSE WHO DECIDE TO READ THIS BOOK EVEN AFTER THIS WARNING ARE ADVISED TO KEEP THESE THINGS IN MIND, AND IF YOU GET NAUSEOUS PUT YOUR HEAD BETWEEN YOUR KNEES AND BREATH DEEPLY…



Chapter 1 - Vermilion Pt. 2

She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
Leaked through and covered me
I'd do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
A song that no one sings
The unattainable
She's a myth that I have to believe in
All I need to make it real is one more reason
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
But I won't let this build up inside of me
I catch in my throat
Choke
Torn into pieces
I won't no
I don't want to be this
But I won't let this build up inside of me
She isn't real
I can't make her real

(Slipknot)

I have lived my whole life not knowing what love is, my parents beat me for fun, I would go to school with bruises all over my body and couldn't tell anybody about them. No one really wanted to be friend me, so I just gave up love. I also didn't trust any one, there was no reason to, my parents lied to me, so I figured that everyone was basically like my parents always promising things that they never could do, or never wanted to do. I learned not to care about that stuff, about family, about pleasing other people. I formed a shield around my emotions. My parents weren't going to make me loose my life, nor were the people I consider my friends, (which was just this one girl who also had had a ruff life growing up). Life isn't all-bad without emotion; it just means that I have more time to think about other things. Without love I don't have to care what others think of me, without lust I don't have the sex drive that other kids my age have. There's no need to have any of that in my life.
That is until I saw her. I was sleeping when I had a dream about what I thought as an angel, but it was in fact a girl. She walked up to me without saying a word, and held out her hand wanting me to take it. I heisted a second then moved my hand up to meet hers, the contact was like nothing I had ever felt. My parents never touched me unless it was to hit me, my one friend would never touch me, and I would never touch her, we have this unspoken understanding. We begin to walk down a moonlit street; no one else is walking down this street. The moon is shining off of her beautiful blond hair, giving the effect of her hair glowing. Then she pulls her hand up and gives the back of my hand a kiss. Her soft lips touching my skin sent shivers down my spine, and I have never felt as good as I felt walking down that street with the most beautiful person I have ever seen. She would touch me, and kiss me, and hold me. Then the road got foggy and I felt this heat in my cheeks, just like the heat I felt when I was a little kid about to cry. Then she was gone, and I was left standing there alone both my hands over my face, tears running down my cheeks. The moon had left the sky, and now the sky was cloudy and gray.
I woke up on the floor, my cheeks warm and wet, not knowing how this was happened. Whatever happened to get me on the floor must have been something big. I decided to call the one person who would listen to me, Naomi, my one friend who I told everything to. It was three in the morning, but I knew she would be up because she doesn't like to sleep, says it's a waste of time. I pick up the phone and dial her number, it starts ringing.
The phone rings four times then, "Hello?"
"Hey, it's me, I think I just had a dream about someone, but I'm not sure. Could you come over so we can talk in person, you know how much I hate phones."
"Yeah, I know. I'll be over in a few minuets, see ya soon."
I hang up the phone, and ten minuets later I see a face outside my window. This was record time; it normally took her like twenty-five minuets. I walk over and open up the window, I see her face, it's red from the cold November air. It looks like she was running to get here, to hear what I have to say? This is weird she has always just sat there and looked like she had zoned out everything I had said. She was mostly just a sounding board for me to get my feelings out on. But now she seemed interested for some reason, a reason I wish I understood.
"Hey, I'm here what'cha want to talk about?" She was out of breath when she said this, I couldn't stop staring at her wondering if this really was the non-social, anti-caring person I knew. "What you staring at? Are you going to let me in or what?"
"Yeah, sorry, here," I move toward the side of the window to let her in. She clambers down from the windowsill, walks over to my bed, (which is a couch because I don't need a real bed, I don't use it enough), and sits down.
"Well come over here, and sit, you wanted to talk right?" I stand there for a little to long, "Well what'cha waiting for, the moon to be made of cheese? Get your ass over here." She had a way of making things more intense then they should be.
"Sorry," I say as I walk over to the leather couch. I sit down where I normally sit, one cousin away from her, but to my surprise she moves closer to me, closing the gap between us. So instead of thinking about it more then I should, I start telling her my dream. Through the story I think I see some emotion showing on her face, I didn't believe what I saw. This was weird; it was like she was interested in what I had to say. I finished my story, "What do you think, I would like your take on this, I know you read those psychology books. You must know something more then I do, help me please?"
"Wow...wow..........wow." She was sitting there with her hands on her head, just repeating the same word, over and over and over.
"Is that all you have to say, WOW, there has to be something to this dream, I just need you help right now more then ever, can you help me now. If you want I will be in your debt, anything you want anytime I will do it. Just help me, I need to know what it means." I move my hand up and move it toward hers, then I remember that we don't touch each other, so I remove it from the air and put it back on my lap.
She removes her hands from her head, and slowly moves her hand over to mine. Her skin is cold on mine, and when the touch came it sent a shiver through my whole body. "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, it was hard for me not to cry when I heard that." This was the weirdest thing that I have heard come out of her mouth, she never cried, she never even thought about it. Or at least that's what I thought, but that was before tonight. "In my opinion this dream was to show you that inside that emotionless exterior you love someone. And that you don't really know who the person is now, but there will be someone soon that you will fall in love with. I think at the end of the dream was showing that you try to keep this love out, you don't really want to, but you have to because you don't know how to love someone. Remember this is just my interpretation of your dream." At the end of her speech she gave my hand a little squeeze, which I returned. She was looking right into my eyes, trying to read me, I wanted to give her all, I wanted to show her who I really was inside, I wanted her to know how fucked up I really was.
I felt it before it happened, the heat in my cheeks, and at the corners of my eyes. Then a single tear rolls down my cheek, Naomi reaches up with her other hand and wipes the tear away. This was too much for me to take, it was much too unreal. I couldn't believe that this was actually happing to me; I was touched, not by an angry hand, but a friendly hand that wanted to help me. Then I feel all the tears well up behind my eyes; slowly they start rolling out, then. Naomi takes me in her arms and puts my head against her chest. I'm crying and she is comforting me, "It's okay..... It’s going to be okay," then the words came out of her mouth, and I couldn't believe that she said it, "I love you."
This could not be happing to me, all my life no one had ever loved me, and no one really cared for me like she was right now. I couldn't say anything back; all I could do was cry harder. I didn't believe this, these emotions were coming to me way to fast, I didn't want this feeling to leave, I didn't want her to go, I didn't want to break this connection between us. This physical connection we were sharing, this perfect touch that we had in my cold dark room. The lifelessness could be felt radiating off the walls and through the floor. My life goes through my head, every painful memory, every time I was hit, every night my broke drunk-ass, good for nothing, father came through the door at midnight just to beat me for fun. Every time my drug addicted, crack head mother did nothing to help me from the beating from my father. I wanted to share this with Naomi; I wanted her to know who I really am under this hard emotionless skin. I wanted someone else to know what I have been through, I wanted someone to know so I wouldn't have to carry this secrete around by myself. With all of these thoughts going through my head I started to cry harder.
Naomi put her hand under my chin and pushed my head up to level with her face. Then she moved closer to me then I had ever had anybody's face next to mine. Then somehow we were kissing, she was kissing me, and I was kissing her. Her soft lips pressed up against my chapped uncared for lips, it was nothing like I had ever felt before, the feeling I didn't know how to classify it, I didn't know what it was that I was feeling, but I knew that it was a good feeling and I wanted to feel like that more. We were like that for what felt like minuets, then she removed her lips from mine, both of our eyes still closed, both of us unsure if that just happened. I opened up my eyes and found her smiling, actually smiling, I haven't seen that look on her ever it was amazing. I felt like a weight had been lifted from my back, I felt like I could actually be somewhat like a person with emotions. Then the words came out of my mouth, "I love....... love you," and I smiled, for the first time in my life, I actually smiled, I move my arms around her waist and give her a hug. She hugged me back.
"Would you like to stay over, it's already four thirty?"
"Sure, I would, do you have any paper?"
"Yeah, here," I rummage through a pile of used paper, and found a blank piece. I handed it to her knowing what it was for.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"That would be nice, ginger ale if you could."
"Sure." My parents weren't home, they never were, but since my mother was fucking the landlord the house was always paid for, every month. I lived here alone ninety nine percent of the time; I basically could do anything I wanted to at anytime of the day.
I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, and got two can's of ginger ale, then thought better of it and brought up the whole six pack. I throw one of them toward Naomi's right hand, and without looking at it she catches it. We both open our cans and start drinking. I can't take my eyes off her; I can't stop thinking of the touch we shared, the kiss we shared, and the feelings that were exchanged between us.
* * *
After an hour of silence Naomi looks up at me, "There it's done," she hands me the paper, now with words, and scratch marks. I read it once, then again. I sat there for thirty minuets reading the words that were written on that paper over and over:
My dark life has just now been filled with light
I have been hated so much I used to fight
With anything that moved, in my head, not out loud physically
This feeling is weird strange
Like nothing I have felt before
Like the sunrise sunset from the beach ocean shore
That feeling when you see the sun for the last time
Like when you hear a poet who doesn't rhyme
This emotion feeling
This feeling love I have for you
Is stronger then any other feeling I have felt before
Your a beautiful an amazing person
And that is that's the reason I love you
I want would like to make this friendship more
Then anything we have ever had before
We both said we love one another each other
I would love to be with you
Be your girlfriend
Maybe until the end
Of this life time and this world
Would Can you let me be your girl
For this I would give the world
I love you with more then my heart
I love you with all I am
My heart, my body, my soul
Can we share this feeling forever
Let us be together forever
This was the most beautiful thing I have ever read, after the first time I could not believe that she had said it, I didn't even know that she wrote poetry, but she wrote from love and every word was exactly how I felt. I loved her, I love her. After what must have been the hundredth time I had read this poem, I turned to her, moved my hand up and ran it through her hair. I moved my body closer to hers; I put my arm around her shoulders, and tipped her body toward mine so her head was resting on my shoulder. This was all happing so fast, but I didn't care because my life was changing and I new it, I could feel it; I didn't want this feeling to go away. It was the best I have ever felt in my life, I felt like I was a person, I felt like life was worth something more, I felt like my past life was fading away faster and faster every second I held her against me.
I kiss her head, and give her shoulders a squeeze. Her hand slid from my side, to my ass pocket.
"How are we going to make this official?"
"Don't you have some rings around here, somewhere?"
"Yeah, I think there around in my desk somewhere. Could you help me look for them?"
"Sure."
We both get up from the couch, nether of us wanting to let go of the other. But we separate our selves, and move over in the direction of my desk. It's a mess, paper, pencils, pens, and a variety of other things on the top. But the drawer's are all-clean, I could never stand messy drawer. We found both the rings I had, they were the only two things I had left to remind me of my grandparents. They were beautiful pieces of work, they were silver, with a big red gem, (I think they were ruby), inlaid in the band. They were amazing to look at, and I think they were my grandparent’s wedding bands.
I picked up her right hand, and put one of the rings on her ring finger. It fit perfectly. She did the same to my right hand, and then we knew that we both had something special happing between us. That night I felt like something had gone right in my life for once.
"You are the most beautiful person I have ever met," looking into her eyes to show I'm not lying.
She knew I wasn't, she gave me a kiss, "I love you."
By this time the sun was up, we both knew that she had to go, and we both didn't want it to happen. At a quarter to seven, Naomi crawled out my window, and started running back to her house. I would never forget that night, nor would I forget the weeks proceeding that night.



Chapter 2- Fallen Angels

My eyes don't see the obvious
It's way to far to go
Forget about the rest of me
There's noting left to know

I see fallen angels
When I try to go to sleep
And they're always watching
I see fallen angels
As I'm walking in the streets
Silently preparing
For what they'll do to me

You see, I'm kinda paranoid
My luck, it seems to have run out
So I will point the finger now
Beyond the shadow of a doubt

I see fallen angels
When I try to go to sleep
And they're always watching
I see fallen angels
As I'm walking in the streets
Silently preparing
For what they'll do to me

I see fallen angels
When I try to go to sleep
And they're always watching
I see fallen angels
As I'm walking in the streets
Silently preparing

(Ra)

I could sense that my life was about to change somehow, I didn't know how, but I knew it would, and it would be for the better. I had started writing more, I had stopped for a while because I didn't see how important it was to put feelings down on paper, then I saw that the feelings were trapped in me, and I didn't want that. I only had one friend; he was this guy who actually understood who I really was. My mind was littered with thoughts of him, of his badass persona; he never went to school because, in his own words, "I don't learn anything new." I knew that I was his only friend too, and was okay with that.
It was three in the morning, but I didn't care, I don't like sleeping I find it to be a waste of precious time that could be spent on things that are worthwhile. I was writing a depressing poem, but I didn't really know what to say, or how to keep it going. So I just crumpled the paper up, and throw it toward the corner where there was a pile of other such papers. Then for some reason my phone rang, I sat there in my chair listing to the ring for four times, then I got fed up and answered the phone. "Hello?"
On the other end it was him, and I was happy that he was calling I liked listing to his voice. "Hey, it's me, I think I just had a dream about someone, but I'm not sure. Could you come over so we can talk in person, you know how much I hate phones."
"Yeah, I know. I'll be over in a few minuets, see ya soon."
This was weird, I had just experienced one of those daydream things a few days ago, I wasn't asleep, but I was dreaming. I wrote it down right after it happened.

The sky was dark and there was a full moon right above my head. Someone walked out of the forest to my right, he was amazing, I have never really seen a person quite like him. He looked like the stereotype bad ass, with the riders jacket studded, leather boots, tight jeans.
Then I realized I was talking about my friend, he looked exactly the same.
He moved his hand under mine, and we started walking down the moonlit street. It was the middle of summer, so it was hot, and I could feel it. The guy took me in his arms, and pressed me into his figure, the hug was amazing, but very hot. Then with out warning he kissed the top of my head
This didn't make sense, I never got kissed by anyone, never. But this guy had kissed me like I was a real person.
I think my face turned bright red, but despite everything that had happened the man disappeared. I was shivering from the physical contact with someone of the opposite sex. I looked up at the sky, and the moon was gone, at first I thought the clouds had covered it up, but then I realized that there were no clouds in the sky. For that matter there were no stars, or anything else that made a night sky so special. I felt this touch on my shoulder, coming from behind me. So I turn around to see who it is, but there is nobody there. So I just walk on, figuring that there must be something at the end of this road.
I start walking, but everything seems to be getting father away from me. Everything is moving away from me, like I have some disease that could kill everything around me. I feel this sharp pain in my back right over my heart, I reach my hand back to figure out what it is that is hurting me so much. My hand rides over a wooden pole sticking out from in-between two if my ribs. I pull this pole out and bring it up to my face, its a stake, a wooden stake. My mind is racing, I can't think straight anymore, I feel dizzy and light headed. My feet feel wet, so I look down to see what puddle I might be standing in. The puddle is made out of my blood, I slowly begin to fall like I was caught in the matrix in bullet time. Right before I hit the ground I open my eyes. And I wrote this, as the most accurate account of this weird dream.

I am running through the streets on this cold November day. I'm running as fast as I can, I want to make it to his house in record time. I really wanted to hear him talk, I wanted him to see that it was me in that dream, just like I knew it was him in mine. My mind was distracted, so much so that I almost hit a runner running in the opposite direction. I was thinking about all the poems I had written in the past few days, all the love poems that I should have given to him, to show him that I love him. I never really liked to show my emotions, they made me feel weird, I didn't cry, I didn't smile, I didn't laugh, I didn't think I needed to.
I made it to his window in ten minuets, record time, actually about ten minuets faster then I normally do. I think he thought that he had more time to think, because when he came to the window he looked like he saw a ghost. I think he knew that I was the person he saw in his dream; I think he knew this but was trying to find some way to prove that feeling false. I wanted this feeling to grow, like a flower, blossom then bloom.
I was speaking, but I wasn't really thinking about what I was saying. I just wanted to sit next to him; I just wanted to feel his warmth against my skin. He was wearing the leather jacket, and the jeans that were in my dream. His shoulder length black hair was in a mess on top of his head, because I'm guessing he just got out of bed. His face had no color left, he was completely pale. My heart was beating way to fast, its just like the feeling that you get when you walkout on stage for the first time. The butterflies in your stomach, sweating, breathing increased, heart rate increasing, and the like. I wanted to say it right then, I wanted to say those three words to him, but I first wanted to hear what he had to say.
My mind was moving so fast I couldn't keep all the thoughts in my head straight, and so I fell down on his couch and, said something, "You wanted to tell me something or what, get your ass over here and talk to me." I think he was stunned by my sudden interest of him. But he sat down, and I moved closer to him. He began his dream like he begins every story he tells me.
"Well it was like this... I was walking down this road...." He talked for half an hour, and I listened intently to his dream. It was amazing, a lot of the same imagery.
I felt the tears coming before they were flowing, and it was a good thing that I did because there was no need to be emotional right now, it might throw him off. I put my hands on my head, to stop the tears, and to make it look like I didn't really care. But I knew, and I knew he knew that I was listing. His story was amazing, and all the time I was listing I was thinking about how it would be when I told him, when I said the three words that meant so much. I wonder if he would care, or cry, or smile, maybe even laugh. I didn't know but I couldn't wait to find out his reaction.
He finished, "what do you think?"
I couldn't say anything, I wanted to say what I was thinking, but it was hard to get out. Instead I moved my hand ever so slowly over to his, and took his hand from his lap. The touch was amazing, and I could see the tears coming to his face. When the first tear fell, I moved my hand up and wiped it from his face, and that’s what set him off. He started crying like a waterfall. I had never seen him cry before, and it was a moving experience. I thought about what I should tell him, all the while moving his head toward my chest, giving him the comfort of another person caring for him. Then I knew the time had come.
I leaned over his ear, and whispered three words, "I love you..." My body lingered over his ear, knowing I wouldn't get a response right away. I said it again, keeping my voice low, "I love you, Roger.... I love you..."
Roger was a nickname I had given him because he would never tell me his real name. I just wanted to be able to put a name on him, so when I wrote I could put his name in. I had written so many poems for him, they were all love poems, and all were pretty good. I could never write that well, I only wrote what was on my mind. I heard a very faint sound, it sounded like someone speaking. Roger was saying something; I lean in closer to hear what he has to say.
"I..... I love you."
My heart started racing, and my lips formed into a smile. I needed to write, I needed paper for a poem. "Do you have any paper?"
"Sure."
He hands me a piece of paper that was underneath a pile of other songs and pages of importance. This feeling was something I had never really felt in great amounts. I needed to get it out, I wanted to show him how much I love him. I wanted to get him to love me back; I wanted this feeling to be real. He meant the more then the world to me, he was the only reason I hadn't killed myself yet. For months all I could think about was him, his face, his body, his distant personality, and what my life would be like with him in it.
I started writing, and writing. I was writing like a fright train, I wasn't stopping for anything, unless it was to take a sip of my ginger ale. I was crossing out lines, writing in the margins, the whole paper was filled with words that showed how I felt about him. So I turned over the paper and started writing the poem from all the lines from the other side. I was so focused on what I was doing; I was completely silent for an hour, not looking up just writing. My mind was filled with scenes of sunsets, kisses in the rain, moonlit walks in the forest, among other romantic scenes. I poured my soul into this poem; I poured my heart and mind into this poem.
After I was done, I read it over a few times, signed it, and passed it over to him with a smile. When he started reading it I saw the tears come to his eyes. He read the poem at least a hundred times, before putting it down and looking at me. He was looking into my eyes trying to see if what I said was true, if the poem actually meant what it said. And he found what he was looking for in my eyes, and in my heart. We lingered on that look for what seemed like an eternity, and then somehow we started looking for rings. It all happened so fast. We found the rings, they were the most amazing rings that I had ever seen, and he put one on my finger.
This love thing was happing so fast, like a car crash, when your watching it from the out side the moments leading up to the crash seem like forever, but then the crash happens and it ends in a few seconds.
My life changed that day, for the better. Though I didn't know how long it would last, I wanted it to last forever, I wanted to be with him, and he with me. Our lives seemed connected somehow, not by the stars or by fate, but somehow. It’s a weird feeling knowing that your heart belongs to someone else, that without them your life means nothing. He had taken my heart, taken it from me, and I let him thinking that, hopping that we would love each other for the rest of our lives. Life has interesting ways of making you second-guess your self, or at least it showed me that sometimes something good could come out of life. Up until this day, the day when we committed to each other, I was getting up the nerve to kill my self because I knew that no one really cared for me. My parents left, they didn't give a shit about me, I don't even think they knew that I existed. My life was meaningless to them, and I didn't really have any friends, except Roger, so my death would have gone practically unnoticed.
Every night I would let my mind wander, and see where it took me. One night, one depressing night, my mind took me to what I thought of as hell. There were all sorts of people down there, killers, druggy, people like my parents, whores, among others. But the people that caught my eye were the fallen angels, they were all beautiful people, they had eyes that you thought could see through me, and hair of pure black. What drew me to them were their wings, they were black and burnt, they were broken and they looked like when it happened it was painful. My mind awoke from this dream and wanted me to write. So I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I have a full notebook dedicated to the fallen angels.
In others eyes I was a fallen angel, I knew in his eyes I was. The way he looked at me, the way he only looked at me with half his face. The way he would never get close to me. The way he would tell me what was on his mind, like he thought I could fix his problems with a wave of my hand.
After tonight I could see that I would break his heart if I were to take my life. I couldn't hurt him, I couldn't break him more then he already was. And I couldn't bear to live in the place I saw when I let my mind wander. I wouldn't, never will forget this night until I die.














Interlude

Life is hard, to say the least. I know this, you know this, we all have had some hardships in the past, (even if all they were is that the Porsche was almost out of gas). Life is just a game, and this game gets messy. Love, like life has the same qualities, its hard, ruff, weird, but most of all amazing. But everything that is good has to come to an end right? You can’t tell a story without a conflict, you can’t make a movie with out a depressing time. You can’t go through life on without a sad moment. After all I have said and all that has happened to me I thought all my hardships were over, but alas nothing ever goes how you want. I have told you about my past life, and I still need to talk about past events, but I want you to know that the further you read in, the harder it gets to take. This story is not meant to depress you; it’s just to educate you about other people’s lives. The depression is just a side effect of reading the truth, depression is what one feels more sadness then one has space to endure.
I was depressed most of my life, and I didn’t know how to get rid of the feeling, now I know the only thing is time. Time heals all wounds no matter how big. All my life I was beat, and I got used to it. All my life I have been told I’m not worth anything, but I have gotten used to it. I was depressed when each event started, but I soon got over the depression, and got back in life.
Ok, just to make this easer on you, I will tell you if you don’t want to be depressed, or sad, then DO NOT read on. Go find another book, and live your perfect little life without knowing the truth of life. I would like to make sure you know that if you read on depression will take over, you will be sad, and if your not then I don’t know what to say. If the next chapter in my life doesn’t upset you, then I wish you the best of luck with a life that has no emotions. Please read on, or don’t I will never know. Just thought I should give you a warning.



Chapter 3- Hello

Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello I am your mind giving you someone to talk to
Hello

If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me I am not broken
Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry

Suddenly I know I’m not sleeping
Hello I’m still here
All that's left of yesterday

(Evanescence)

The winter came and passed, so did the spring I saw the mayflowers, and the April showers. We spent time together, talking, reading, listing to music, and everything was fine until that one day in July. It happened suddenly like a lightning bolt hitting a tree, or the cussing of a teacher as they drop a computer from a desk. It was painful for me to believe, and was hard for me to believe. My mind couldn't stop thinking about what had happened to her. I've only ever heard about this kind of thing happing in rap music, and sometimes on the news, but it hurt to know that there were people who could get pleasure out of fucking a helpless little girl who was powerless to the strength of five grown men. It was sick to think that grown men would tie up and gag a girl who was just walking down the road home on a moonless night.
My mind couldn't get over the fact that you are gone. I still can't believe that the person whom I love with all my heart, and all my soul had to die, and had to die in such a way that they couldn't use an open casket. Life was amazing when she was around, but if I knew anything I knew this, that life could change in a blink of an eye in any direction, good, bad. Why, why had it been her, why couldn't they have picked some poor fucking prostitute off the streets to fuck with, instead of the only women who had ever loved me.

I saw them out of the corner of my eyes as they were walking behind me, there were five of them and they were all big. They had been following me for a while, well at least the last two blocks. I was getting scared, and started walking faster, but the men were picking up pace. They looked like they were some sort of gang, or mob, I didn't know what they were going to do to me when they caught up. Suddenly my life was flashing before my eyes, I saw his face, the one that I loved so much. I saw me as a baby, then as a little kid, then as a young adult, then as myself today. Then the visions started getting weird, I started seeing myself getting older, and older, and older. Then my life was over.
I turned the corner and started running hard, and fast. But they started running two, and they were faster then me. One of the men pulled out a gun, a new .22 handgun and pointed it at me as we were running, they started shouting.
"Stop running and you wont get hurt as bad!"
"Get the fuck down!"
"I said stop running, I don't want you to get hurt too bad!"
"You better stop running bitch, don't think I wont shoot!"
"I want her man, I want that bitch to scream, and I want to here her fucking scream!"
I kept running trying to find a house with someone home, someone who could help me, but this was the summer, and no one was home. It took about a block before they caught up with me, and in that block I knew I was dead. My legs hurt, my stomach hurt, my arms hurt, and my head hurt. I knew my life was over the second before they grabbed my hair. The one guy with the gun caught up and pressed the barrel against my temple.
"We don't want any trouble bitch, now do what I say, and you might just live to see tomorrow. Hey Jasper bring the car around, well bring this fucking bitch back to my place. Bitch stop squirming, your gonna rip the hair off your fucking head. BRING THE FUCKING CAR AROUND MOTHER FUCKER!!!!"
"Shit, quit yelling man, I don't need your fucking tone."
"Just bring the mother fucking car around now."
He ran the few blocks to the car and started the car, and pulled up beside the curb, and I was shoved in the back like luggage. A few minuets later we arrived at this building that looked like no one had lived there for years, the walls are crumbling apart, most of the windows are smashed, and most of the window opening are boarded up. I didn't like how this place made me feel, I didn't like how this whole situation made me feel. There's something about having a cold steel gun against your head to make you think about what this life has taught you. The sun was completely down behind the horizon, but somehow there was this glow around the building, this eerie yellowish orange glow.
I was pulled out of the car by my hair, and drug up to the door of this evil building, in which I knew people have been murdered before. They took me up flights of stairs, I don't know how many, but it took a while for the movement to stop. It seemed like hours before we got to the small, creepy, and dim-lit room, where they through me into the center, closed the door, and bolted it shut. There were no windows in this room, nowhere to jump from, and nowhere to run.
"Take off your fucking punk-ass clothes, now. I want to see those plump breast's, and your pussy."
"What's the order going to be Dave, I want to fuck this bitch, and I want her to scream."
"Who killed that guy last week."
"That would be me, Dave. That mother fucker had that slug coming, talking shit about my mother isn't an option, ya know."
"Go first, man, fuck her pussy till ya cum in it."
"Get those fucking panties off, let me see that pussy."
This kind of talking kept going, and going, and going. They were saying mother fuck this, and bitch give me that, scream for me bitch. They were hurting me, getting deep inside me. There were five of them, five dicks that were all poking me over, and over, and over. Then they got their fill and they were done with me. One of them pulled out a bottle of some kind of acid, I couldn't tell because I was crying too hard, the pain inside me was greater then anything I had ever felt before. He pulled the stopper off the top of the bottle, and started pouring the liquid on to my skin. It burned like noting you could ever believe, the burning felt like it was eating at me like a bunch of little mouths. I was screaming so loud I think I broke my eardrums because I couldn't hear anything that was going on around me. The acid was poured on my face, and in my eyes so I couldn't see anything.
One of the other ones had some kind of club, and started breaking the bones in my legs. He was moving up on my body breaking all the bones he could. Then I felt a sharp pain in my knee, then in my side, and shoulder, and hand. I had a feeling someone was shooting me, but I couldn't hear anything the world was completely silent on the day of my death.
Then the thug shot her in the head and it was all over, they all pulled up their pants, took all the weapons and walked out of the room. She was dead, and mutilated. Her body lay there naked, burnt with acid, beaten with clubs, shot, and raped. There were cops on the block that heard the gunshots, who thought it might be a gang fight. They got to the building right as the car was pulling away, the fatter of the cops pulled out his gun and shot out the back tires, he also missed once and sent a slug through the back window into one of the thugs heads, killing him instantly. The car stopped and both cops ran over to it guns at the ready yelling.
"Get out with you're hands up."
"Get out with you're mother fucking hands in the air, drop all weapons you have outside the car."
The men in the car slowly got out after throwing their weapons down, a few guns, a few clubs, five switchblade knives, and a chain with a lock attached to one end of it. They faced the cops and slowly got to their knees. They knew there lives were over, they knew that they were going to be put to death for killing the girl.
"Fuck man that bitch cost us our mother fucking lives, we're going to prison for life mother fucker. I knew we should've never caped that bitch."
"Shut the fuck up and get on the ground, hands behind your mother fucking head!"
They were all handcuffed, but they had to call for more cars to take them away. They also called for a homicide team, who quickly got to the scene, seeing as how there hasn't been a murder, (of a person), in a long time. It only took ten minuets for the extra cars to get to the murder scene.
The case against the five, now four, men. The papers when crazy with the story, they exaggerated the story, like they always do. They say things like, 'local girl gets raped by gang of Mexican's', or 'girl shot by five black gang banger', both headlines are completely wrong, there was no gang, no black men, no Mexican's. This case was like nothing the city had seen, it lasted three weeks, then it was over and then there was no talk about it. But life had slowed down in the city because now parents thought there were people going to rape and kill their daughters.
This case was hard for me to take, I love her and she loved me, it was the first time anyone had loved me. My life was over at that minuet, the minuet she died. Even before I knew she was dead, I felt if, I felt it like I was just stabbed in my leg.
When I saw her coffin I wasn't amazed that there wasn't anybody else there. No body really cared about her, or about her death, all they cared about were the people who killed her. The coffin was closed because of all the burning, and gun wounds. The coffin was the best I could get; it was just plain wood with an engraving on the top by the head. It said:
You're eyes showed me the errors of my ways
I wished we would be together till the end of our days
Our love for each other was strong
You were there to right all my wrongs
You're eyes showed me the days in nights
But now there closed and shut tight
I'll love you more and more each day
Even though you're loves far away
I wish you were here by my side
TO wipe these tears that I cry
But now you're gone to a better place
I'll love you till the end of my life
And never try to win this loosing fight
There was a rose carved into the lid right under the engraved writing. My love is still strong, but I know I need to move on, I need to keep my head up, and I need to get my life back to the way it was before her death. Life would never be the same, but I needed to make the best of it. My only friend was dead; I don't think I would ever make another friend again. And I never thought I could love again, the love we had was more amazing then anything I have ever felt before. I never thought that feeling could be resurrected, and it never will because I have no life anymore, my life is six feet under ground with her body in that wooden box.
* * *
I had been staying at home writing, just writing anything that came to me, anything that my mind wanted me to write. My life was slowing down, every day seemed like a lifetime, and I didn’t want to have all this time without spending it with her. I wrote poetry to be with her, poetry was the one thing that connected us, somehow I could feel her when I wrote, when I put pencil to paper. I didn’t have her, but I had her sprit with me everywhere I went, in every word I wrote, and the feeling there was indescribable. Love is something we shared, true love, and when it was gone I could still feel it with me everywhere.
One day I just sat and wrote one poem, one poem that expressed every thought I had in my head.
Surrounded By Fiction

There was a day
When time stood still
The sun would shine
But only hover above the ground
The rain would fall
But leave everything dry

I would go down
On a Sunday Afternoon
Down to the subway
Where I would empty my head
Away from my bed
Life goes on all around
But I don't listen
I'm surrounded by fiction

There was a time
When people were good
When people would stop
And help the bum's out
Still
The sun would shine
But only hover above the ground
The rain would fall
But leave everything dry

I walk down the road
With no Direction home
Wanting to find
Some peace of mind
And some place to call my home
Living in a world
Surrounded by fiction

And I would go down
On a sunny Sunday afternoon
To the subway underground
So I could empty my head
To get out of my bed
And life still goes on all around
But why would I listen
I'm just surrounded by fiction

Light shines through her eyes
But no one can see
She hurts on the inside
She burns inside
There are feelings inside her
That she cannot express
Because the sun shines down
But only hovers above the ground
And the damn rain falls
Still everything stays dry

To get away from all this shit
I go down to the only place I know
Even on a sunny afternoon
I will go down to the subway
To try to get rid of this pain
In my head, burning
There is something inside of me
Telling me that you should not listen
Because life is just fiction

Help me out
Show me the way out
Get me out
Of this book I'm in
Keep me out of this
Work of fiction

I see through the eyes
Of every person who
Has lived life with out living
Who has given it all
To find out that the life they live
Was just a lie
Created to keep us entertained
To keep us under control
Now the sun doesn't shine
Now nothing looks the same
Now the rain will never fall
Now there is nothing here
Now we all see
That we were all always
Surrounded by fiction

The person I was, the person who had love in his heart, the person with an amazing girlfriend, the person with hope of a better life had died, and I didn’t think anything would bring him back. Life as I knew it before was over, and I didn’t know what to do now. Do I stay up in this room writing all the rest of the days I have left on this planet? Do I go out and insert myself into social circles. Do I try to live like nothing has happened? Do I kill myself? I didn’t know what to do, I wanted my love back, but I knew she was never coming back, I knew she would never come back. My life had taken a turn for the worst, just as it was getting better, something didn’t want me to be happy. I don’t know why my life does this to me, one minuet it will give me something amazing, the next it will take it away from me. I couldn’t go on living with this emptiness in my heart, I couldn’t do it, I wanted to, but just couldn’t.
Ever since her coffin was lowered in the ground I have lost who I am, I have lost the person I have become. I am nothing, I am a no one. Life can go to hell.