Bloodflowers [Brian, PG-13, dark/angst]
Useless-girl 2010.05.03. 19:42
The 5th one...
Character(s): Brian Molko
Category: dark, angst
Description: Well it’s not exactly a happy story… But let’s everyone decide how the scene ends. I don’t hold on to a negative end. Maybe one day I’ll write the sequel too. :)
Note: Surprisingly this time I didn’t listen to Placebo during writing this piece, but a The Cure song was on repeating mode and the title comes from that track too, which is one of my favorite The Cure songs.
Dedicated to: Modecsibe, who was the first reader of this FF and who gave me this song as well. I’m grateful to her for many things and I grab the opportunity to say thank you for her this way.
I slam the door behind me, panting. Tears dried on my pale face. I know that my eyeliner is smeared, but I don’t care. Nothing matters. Nothing. I’m fed up. I ran to my hotel room because of you. I stumble through the dark room still panting, and I fall onto my knees next to the nightstand. Within a minute the content of the drawer lies in front of me. With one hand I reach for the bottle of whiskey next to the lamp and the other rummages among the stuff on the floor. I can’t see a fucking thing, but I don’t want to switch on the light. Finally – after taking a long sip from the bottle – I cough a bit and light my lighter. The little package is already in my hand. I scatter some of its content onto my hand and greedily sniff it up. The scratchy feeling makes me sniff a few more times then I repeat the whole thing. The stuff takes its effect soon. I find the whiskey again then light a cigarette, leaning against the wall with my back. My head is bent backwards while I wait for the fucking drug and booze to lift me higher. I don’t want to know about a thing. I don’t want to think! I’m fed up. You were the last drop. Everything’s fuckin’ against me!
Finally I can feel it. The nice floating, the familiar feeling is here… I inhale the smoke contentedly. The empty bottle lands on the carpet. Time after time I feel my mouth flinch into a smile. I feel satisfied as I run my hand down on my chest. Finally everything feels good. A little peace of mind. I wanted this. I don’t feel anything bad or wrong, I’m just floating between the bright lights. A warm feeling fills up my tired body. But I cry out when it starts fading away from one minute to the other! I get desperate. I want to cling to the colorful clouds, but suddenly frightening forms start dancing behind my eyelids. I quickly open them, but the chaos grows over me anyway. Familiar and unfamiliar faces float in front of my face, threatening me. The room seems to swirl. The patterns of the carpet start sliding towards me like snakes to winding around my legs, trying to drag me into the darkness. I hide my face behind my arms and pull my legs up. The room is loud from my own desperate panting.
Pictures of concerts, audiences, guitars, people, music notes, organizers, airplanes, buses and hotel rooms flash in front of me, speeding up. I try to shoo them away, but they stay. They want me too. Hands reach out for me. I’m yelling now, but no one can hear me! I’m alone against them! They’re about to reach me when in my most desperate moment your face appears too. I get angry, but when you wave goodbye and let them have me, I yell after you:
“Stef! Don’t do this!”
But you gag me in this horrible vision too. You don’t help me. Not anymore. You hate me, you scorn me, you despise me, you hate me! I can see it in your cold eyes! And it fuckin’ hurts! I go crazy from it! The pain is tearing me apart. My fingers reach for you desperately, but you only seem to get farer from my shaking body. My tears start to flow again. By now I know that everything’s over. I try to huddle up, getting as small as possible. My sobbing is suppressed. The monsters in the dark are waiting and watching me. I think they pity me. Even they don’t want me anymore. No one needs me. No one is interested in me. No one comes to see me.
I’ll never understand them, the world, people… I’ll never belong to them. I was always different. It was good. It was bad. I’m instable. Too sensitive. Maybe I’m the one who overcomplicates things. It’s my fault that I’m unbearable to them. I’m guilty. I’m bad! Useless. Tiring and annoying. It hurts that I became this. It hurts that I was born. Maybe it was a mistake. And the fans… the fans wouldn’t fool themselves either. They don’t know me. No-one knows me. I don’t know myself fully either. I’m a big pile of unlucky crap!
“Mom, why did you give me birth?! Why did you choose hopelessness and suffering for my fate?! Tell me, why?! Why…?”
I hug myself and swing back and forth. My eyes are empty, my pupils are dilated. I know how they look like. I’ve seen myself several times like that. But now this annoys me too! The weakness… I’ve had enough of it! Now it was enough. I have to end this! I have to free the world from my pathetic self! I’ve made my choice.
For a minute I stop and affiliate with the thought. I have to force my numb body to move again. I try to stand up, but the stuff did its work. I fell to the edge of the bed. I feel the blood oozing on my forehead, tickling my face. I continue crawling towards the luminous bathroom on all fours. It seems that I’ve left the lamp on there. Suddenly a cold hand grabs my ankle. I panic. As I look back over my shoulder I see the shadow of a lewd, but scary woman reaching out from under the bed. She looks at me temptingly, but I kick off her hand and crawl further. I’m at the doorsill when someone flings the door wide open. I recoil. The fear comes in suffocating waves. The evil shadows whisper contentedly in the corner as they smell it like predators. A longish hand with spider leg-like fingers holds the edge of the door. The man is unbelievably tall and thin. For a moment Stef’s figure comes into my mind, but I quickly chase the picture away. The appearance of this phantasm amazes and frightens me at the same time. He wears a ragged tail coat. He reminds me on the masters of old-fashioned circuses from long-ago movies. Circuses which promise all kinds of horror and thrill for the visitors.
The man’s longish, pointy face, crooked nose and gappy face seems beautiful and ugly. Though the bathroom is shining in the lamps’ light, strange shadows are playing on his face. He doesn’t let me watch his figure in the dancing lights, just invites me into the bathroom with a wave of his hand. I swallow hard. Yes, now I remember why I crawled here. With much difficulty I grab the doorframe and stand up. My strange visitor gives me an understanding nod and gestures towards the washbasin. Everything’s prepared. The pills and blades are lined up on the edge of it. They’re waiting for me. I stumble there. I’m scared. More and more. I’m scared too when I grab the edge of the cold marble. I glimpse back at my guest with an unsure look, but I see just the closed door.
“How discreet…” I whisper on a husky tone.
I take the pack of pills into my hand and try to read what’s on its tag, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m sure that it’s some kind of strong tranquilizer. Before I open it, I look up into the mirror. I nearly slip on the wet floor when I spot my guest smiling in it. But he’s not the only one in the mirror, oh no. The shadows and monsters and many more creatures from the bedroom are there, encouraging me. I try to open the box in my hand, but my fingers are shaking too much. But I don’t have to wait for help for too long. My tall friend waves with his long fingers and the box opens. I smile from this little magic then I let quite some pills fall into my palm. I’m a bit unsure now. The man hisses. His companions echo the gesture.
‘Weakness!’ I hear it echoing in my ears. They’re right. I can’t let it win again. Within a moment all the pills ends up in my stomach. I give a satisfied smile to my reflection. I fail to spot the enormous dark circles under my eyes and the sick grey color of my skin, I see just the unmatched beauty. I cough a bit – the pills nearly come back, but I don’t let it happen. I reach for one of the blades. It cuts my finger. It’s sharp. Good, I need exactly that.
I slide onto the floor. This way I won’t be able to see my guests, but it’s okay. I want to die alone. Now I don’t need an audience. This’ll be just mine. Completely mine. And I’ll watch every moment of it, cuz I can experience it just once – just like birth. These two are common for every one of us. But no one can take death away from you. You can’t escape it – but maybe you don’t have to do that at all.
With my back I lean against the bathtub. My sleeveless white shirt makes it easy for me to do what I have to do. The lights glisten on the blade and I feel sharp pain first in my right then in my left wrist. The life flows from me like red streams, making my white clothes dirty. I let it happen and I watch myself with dulling senses. The pain I feel is beautiful. My veins draws, the wounds hurts and my blood is just flowing and flowing…
As I look more closely it forms blooming red flowers as it runs into the fabric of my clothes and onto the floor. Red bloodflowers. The flowers of life which greets Death with their vivid colors and sweet scent. And he’s coming. He steps out from the shades and embraces the bloodflowers to his chest. And they’re multiplying. They’re unstoppable as they creep, bud and bloom, feeding on my emptying body. When I close my eyes I can still see this beauty. For a moment I look at them contentedly then my mind gets dizzy. And Death embraces my bouquet again…
I let fall flowers of blood…”