|Short-stories : Bloodflowers 2 - The sequel [Brian, PG-13, dark/angst]|
Bloodflowers 2 - The sequel [Brian, PG-13, dark/angst]
Useless-girl 2010.05.05. 15:42
The 6th one...
full size: fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/125/2/c/Bloodflowers_2_by_Useless_girl.jpg
Title: Bloodflowers (The second part)
Characters: Brian Molko, Steve Hewitt
Category: drama, angst
Description: Because you’ve asked for it, here’s the sequel of Bloodflowers… I hope it’ll satisfy you. :) I’d like to have some feedbacks!
Note: The quotation is from “I know”, my very favorite Placebo song.
- The second part –
It’s dark. It’s as if I have been floating in the bodiless neutral darkness for ages. I don’t know whether it pierces through me, waves around me or I’m just a part of it. I just know that I’m here. Suddenly I had thoughts again. I don’t know for how long I was knocked out. Where was I when I was unconscious? Did I stop existing? But I can remember on one thing. Something had happened to me, I’m just not allowed to recall it. And why do I have thoughts again? Why didn’t I get back into this darkness? Is there any sense of it? And… how did I get here anyway? I don’t remember. Everything’s cloudy. I know just that I’m here and it hurts. Something terribly hurts.
I hear and feel just shreds of noises and messy feelings. I think I saw Stef’s face for a moment as well and some kind of a blue and red light – distant siren and buzzing… It makes my head hurt. I want to open my eyes to stop them, but I can’t do that yet. Something’s wrong. I hear quarrelling again… sobbing… I’m crying. Daze. Colors are dancing in front of me in my personal darkness. I don’t get what’s happening. Then I see them. They reach out for me, but they can’t touch me. I see just their dark contours and the sharp glistening of their eyes. I know for whom they make room. He’s coming. The tall man from the bathroom… He… he who helped me to die. Or just wanted to help? Did I die? I don’t think so. Then I wouldn’t be here. Or I wouldn’t exist at all. Or I would? Is this Hell? Did they wait for me? I feel terrified from his approaching figure, which seems to get taller and taller. I flee from him. Or at least I try, but my body denies obeying.
The buzzing and beeping are getting louder and the monsters are coming nearer. I know that they want to catch me and take me with them. I want to scream but I can’t. I try to convince myself that this can be just a dream. I’m fucking scared. I try to concentrate on waking up. It feels like eternity until I’m finally able to slightly open my eyes. From the light they fill up with tears. But my chasers fade away from it. It seems I came round. I don’t care that the light hurts, I don’t close my eyes again. I want to see. I want to know where I am. I want to know what’s with me, why I’m still here. The picture gets slowly clearer. I hear the beeps first. There’s half-light in the room.
Hospital. Machines. Infusion. Bandages on my hands. They’re tight. I start to feel my body. It’s heavy. It’s difficult to breathe. My chest burns. My hands hurt. The wounds are straining. Now I remember everything. I shiver under the thin blanket. I’m disappointed. Empty. Tired. I don’t know why I’m still here. From the corner of my eye I see that something moved on my left. Steve leans closer to me when he sees that I’m awake.
“Thank god, Bri! I thought that we’ve lost you!” he changed his tone to a whisper when he spotted that the loud noises hurt the singer’s ears, who made a face with his dry lips.
“It should have happened that way” he whispered.
“You were serious about this, weren’t you?” his face darkened.
“If I wasn’t… then… I’d have just taken the drugs.”
“True. But they still had to wash out a lot of stuff from your system anyway” he sighed.
“Why did you stop it? Why didn’t you let me die? It should have… happened!” he ran out of breath at the end of his hard question. Steve waited until he stopped coughing.
“Don’t say such things!” he whispered sadly.
“Who was it?”
“The one who found me.”
He saw on his mate that he got angry from this. He knew that they had a big fight before Brian tried to kill himself. He didn’t ask the bass player what was the problem, Stef seemed to be in a bad shape already, there was no need to hurt him even more!"
“That bastard!” Brian’s hands fisted, but he didn’t care about the pain this caused.
“Bri, he’s your friend!”
“He’s nothing to me now. I don’t want to see him ever again!”
“Stef is on the floor. Since he’s found you he’s been drinking and he blames himself.”
“Good. He deserves that.”
“Steve, you can’t move me with these things. I don’t care. I would not have give a damn what people would feel in case I died. You can say that I’m selfish! You can say that I care just about my needs! It’s right. I’m fed up with everything and everyone! I didn’t want to do this anymore. I still don’t want to.”
“I think it’d be better for me to leave now. I can’t convince you now anyway.”
“Just let me note that I don’t know why you want to push everyone away, but I want you to know that despite the fact that you’re a jerk we love you and are worried about you” he said while walking towards the door “Oh and just to know: your mom ended up in the hospital. Because of you. When she heard about your attempt she got a smaller heart attack. Congratulations Brian.”
Before he could’ve said anything Steve had already disappeared. This news shocked him. He loved his mother. He felt like crap. He did it again. At least two people crashed down because of his suicidal attempt – if he didn’t count himself in. He knew that he was so very selfish again. He didn’t think. The more he wanted to run away from his problems, the more they settled heavily on his shoulder. He had to rethink this whole situation. But not now. For the time being he had no strength to think about the difficult question: was it worth to continue living his life?
With empty eyes he just watched the clouds, which were painted pink and purple by the setting sun. His gaze followed the fly of a few birds on the sky then he just stared at the distant world while from a bouquet red petals fell on his nightstand.
„The past will catch you up as you run faster,
The last in line is always called a bastard…”