Run Away Before It's Too Late
Broken
*Oli's POV*
Ever since Kathandria disappeared two years ago, I haven't been myself. I've been walking on a razor edge, precariously balancing and nearly falling numerous times. We still perform and all but it's not like it used to be. Even the fans are mourning with us. I have turned to writing sadder songs now. Of course, there are the ones that are not exactly happy but aren't depressing either.
I miss my baby girl. I grab my head in run my fingers through my long, wavy brown locks, tugging in frustration. The police said that she probably ran away because of me, the band, and a bunch of other bullshit. One even made a snide comment about how she was probably fucking all of us. I almost beat the fuck out of that guy. My once warm eyes are now numb, dead abysses. Ain't it funny how a guy who could once feel a variety of emotions in a split second be near incapable of feeling anything other than numbness now? I chuckle at the irony.
She was never found, not even a body. She'd be 17 today. Her birthday. The anniversary of her disappearance. I want to throw something, scream, cry, have a fit, do somethingbut I can't muster forth enough energy to lift my head up. How could I have never noticed that she was dreading something, like she somehow knew it would come true no matter what? How? What kind of a father am I if I can't even tell when my child is in pain or suffering?! I clench my eyes shut.
Wetness trails down my cheeks as my fists clench and unclench. How could I have been so careless? How could I have been so blind? The truth was right there in front of me. I look at the empty bottle of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey. I grunt as I knock it over, flinging it onto the floor. I curl up in the fetal position on the couch, staring blankly in front of me.
I can barely hear the doorbell ring. It doesn't even click in my mind that someone is at the door until I hear the knocking. I sneer. What do they want? "I'M COMING!" I scream hoarsely as I shakily get up. I wipe my tears away, attempting to look like I hadn't just been bawling my eyes out like a little baby. I walk slowly to the door, swaying slightly from the sudden movement of my body.
The polite knocking turns to pounding on the door. I'm still a ways away. I scream out, "I'M COMING GOD DAMN IT! HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES!" The pounding ceases and I notice the ringing in my ears. Fuck, what the hell did I do to myself? I'm a few feet away from the door when the dorrbell goes off. It's a endless stream of ringing. In a fury, I quickly close the distance between the door and myself. I fling it open, screaming, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU W---". My eyes widen before tears fall. "Why?" A broken whisper esacpes my throat as I fall to my knees, sobbing.
Ever since Kathandria disappeared two years ago, I haven't been myself. I've been walking on a razor edge, precariously balancing and nearly falling numerous times. We still perform and all but it's not like it used to be. Even the fans are mourning with us. I have turned to writing sadder songs now. Of course, there are the ones that are not exactly happy but aren't depressing either.
I miss my baby girl. I grab my head in run my fingers through my long, wavy brown locks, tugging in frustration. The police said that she probably ran away because of me, the band, and a bunch of other bullshit. One even made a snide comment about how she was probably fucking all of us. I almost beat the fuck out of that guy. My once warm eyes are now numb, dead abysses. Ain't it funny how a guy who could once feel a variety of emotions in a split second be near incapable of feeling anything other than numbness now? I chuckle at the irony.
She was never found, not even a body. She'd be 17 today. Her birthday. The anniversary of her disappearance. I want to throw something, scream, cry, have a fit, do somethingbut I can't muster forth enough energy to lift my head up. How could I have never noticed that she was dreading something, like she somehow knew it would come true no matter what? How? What kind of a father am I if I can't even tell when my child is in pain or suffering?! I clench my eyes shut.
Wetness trails down my cheeks as my fists clench and unclench. How could I have been so careless? How could I have been so blind? The truth was right there in front of me. I look at the empty bottle of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey. I grunt as I knock it over, flinging it onto the floor. I curl up in the fetal position on the couch, staring blankly in front of me.
I can barely hear the doorbell ring. It doesn't even click in my mind that someone is at the door until I hear the knocking. I sneer. What do they want? "I'M COMING!" I scream hoarsely as I shakily get up. I wipe my tears away, attempting to look like I hadn't just been bawling my eyes out like a little baby. I walk slowly to the door, swaying slightly from the sudden movement of my body.
The polite knocking turns to pounding on the door. I'm still a ways away. I scream out, "I'M COMING GOD DAMN IT! HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES!" The pounding ceases and I notice the ringing in my ears. Fuck, what the hell did I do to myself? I'm a few feet away from the door when the dorrbell goes off. It's a endless stream of ringing. In a fury, I quickly close the distance between the door and myself. I fling it open, screaming, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU W---". My eyes widen before tears fall. "Why?" A broken whisper esacpes my throat as I fall to my knees, sobbing.
Notes
Forgot about this story. Sorry guys, I've had a lot on my plate. Insomnia helps since it's the reason I'm writing this. That and boredom.
THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER. I AM WRITING THE SEQUEL AS WE SPEAK. THERE WILL BE 13 (I believe) CHAPTERS.
@Poison Bite
Here's the link:
http://www.blackveilbridesfanfiction.com/Story/81345/Not-Gonna-Die/
6/15/16