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Post by KATYA ELIZABETH RIVERA on Nov 9, 2011 6:33:54 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Hotel California
And I was thinking to myself.
this could be heaven
or
this could be hell..... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "it's for your own good, just try to at least have one conversation, you haven't spoken to him since we left Colombia" Katya's mother stated. Katya bit her lip remembering that day like it was yesterday. Her mother called her father to let him know they were leaving, and as Katya tried to say goodbye, her father seemed rushed with his new fiance, waiting about a year after leaving Katya and her mother. As much as it hurt Katya to remember, it angered her much more "oh, you mean when he was doing his best to get me off the phone in a hurry to pork around with his new fiancé, well I’m sorry if I don’t want to get shooed away again five years later” Katya replied going up the stairs towards her room “Katya, stop being so stubborn and just give him the benefit of the doubt” her mother said in an annoyed tone following her. “mom, just drop it, seriously, I’m sick and tired of repeating this conversation with you” Katya replied as she went into her room and slammed the door leaving her mother on the opposite side.
She didn’t mean to sound like a terrible person, but the subject of her father was very delicate, even if it happened years ago. That being part of the reason why Katya sucked at trusting guys, and actually trying to be more than just friends or casual hookups. It hurt her knowing that her father just called it quits on his marriage with her mother and left Katya as if she was at fault as well. Katya combed her hair back with her fingers all the way down to her neck, she needed to get out of the house for a bit and calm down. She sighed sniffling a little trying to hold back her tears from the not so fond memories of her father and the hurt that she always kept bottled inside about her mother’s loneliness, not trying to find someone else to share her life with. Katya grabbed her black tote bag throwing some candles, matches, her favorite red wool blanket, a chilled bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey, her ipod, and a random book in case she got really bored. Walking over to the opposite side of the bed, Katya opened her window and slung her tote over her head as it hung over her body.
She stretched her leg out the window bending over to squeeze her body through the hole and try to cautiously walk on the roof without her mom hearing. Bending her knees down, she jumped down to the grass before beginning to jog away from her house. She really didn’t feel like driving and she planned on drinking a little so she started to make her way towards the beach. Upon arriving, Katya walked over to the lifeguard house and jumped as she pulled herself up sitting on the ledge and took out the candles from her bag. Sliding the lighter out from her pocket, she flicked the switch and waved it over the candles lighting all three. Proceeding to go through her bag she pulled out her ipod and plugged in her ear plugs in her ear and pressed shuffle sliding the Jameson bottle out of her bag and loosening the cap as she took a swig, letting the burning sensation slide down her throat. The song playing was “Fray” by Staind, lyrics blasting in hear ears.....So I try and I tried to make everything right, I don’t feel like I’m doing it, it affects me….A tear slid down her cheek, and she immediately wiped it away, being ashamed of her tears…….
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Post by PEYTON MICHAEL DANIELS on Feb 11, 2012 21:59:38 GMT -5
Peyton Michael Daniels
I’m still alive, but I’m barely breathing,
Just praying to a God that I don’t believe in...
.xXx.
[/color] Peyton knew, before his dreaming self even turned the corner, what would be soon taking place within the space of a few, mere minutes. Each and every fibre of his being screamed at him to wake up, panic completely and utterly consuming him, as it slowly began to eat him from the inside out. He begged himself to change the dream, to change direction and begin walking away from the gruesome sight in which he would soon behold, but even still, his hand reached into his pocket to dig for his key as he approached the door to his apartment, despite his desperate attempts. If he could have stopped himself from having the same dream, each and every night, he would have; unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky.
The man felt an angry yell threaten to rise in his throat as his eyes caught sight of the door, in which hung ajar, speaking of the possibility of danger. Immediately Peyton dug into his pockets, in order to whip out his smaller switch-blade, before slipping past the door noiselessly, his steps light and carefully placed, as not wanting to disturb the intruder. He’d made not a single mistake, but alas, was no match for the men already waiting for him. Before he could react to the distinct, clicking sound of a gun being loaded, he felt the cool surface of the barrel being pressed against the back of his head, causing his entire body to stiffen.
It was then, that the man’s stomach dropped, anticipation for the frightening events to come gnawing at his composure. He was lead into the small, cramped kitchen, the strong hand of a man grasping harshly onto his shoulder, the loaded gun refusing to leave his skull. Peyton was obedient, fearing for his life, though as he caught sight of his mother, whom was so wrongfully bound and tied, his entire exterior changed. His face paled as he was forced to sit, light cerulean eyes flickering to regard the man standing behind his mother, gun in hand. “So nice of you to show up, Peyton.” His words dripped with mocking and sarcasm, as the man pointed the firearm towards his mother. “No, don’t! What does she have to do with anything?” The boy had tried to reason, his voice wavering and speaking of his clear insecurity.
Back then, he hadn’t been afraid to show emotion. Now? That’s a different story.
“Everything, boy. She’s all you have; by killing her, we kill you.” The older man paused, a sickly sneer slipping upon his chapped lips. “Next time, perhaps you’ll think about fucking with us.” And with that, the sound of a gun going off exploded into the boy’s ears, as his mother’s form lurched, the chair tipping over with the motion, before they both hit the floor, motionless.Peyton sat straight up in his bed, his chest heaving, and his entire body covered with a thin lather of sweat. His breath came in quick, uneven little pants, as the man struggled to free himself of his tangled sheets, before changing into a pair of swimming shorts, and a clean, white T-Shirt. His mind raced, heart pounding relentlessly within his chest, as the boy raced from his dorm, being sure to be silent as he made his way downstairs, and out the door. His entire body was rigid and tight, fingers curled into shaking fists, as the man broke into a jog, making his way away from the school. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or what he planned to do there, but he sure as fuck needed to escape. When Peyton felt threatened, he got angry. Hell, when Peyton felt anything, he got angry. And so, he ran. His football coach, long ago, had told him exercise was a good way to expel, not only anger, but any other unwanted emotions. Besides, it was late; there were little people whom would be out and about, to see him. The boy broke into a sprint once he reached the beach, only stopping once his lungs burned, and his legs ached in protest. Then, he fell back onto his bottom, leaned back on his elbows, and stared out at the length of ocean before him. One that truly knew Peyton may be able to tell that he was somewhat disturbed, but others would only take in his expression—his set jaw, pursed lips, and emotionless features—and assume he was fine. The man had long ago perfected the ability to fool others of his emotions, and now was no different. As one looked at him, observing the ocean like he was, they’d figure he’d just been out for a late jog. As far as other people were concerned, his nightmares didn’t exist; nor did the majority of his past, which had shaped him so abruptly into the man he was today. A good, ten minutes later, Peyton heaved himself up, and with a sigh, slowly began wandering along the beach. He’d never been a man that could stay in one place for very long, and had a sneaking suspicion that he may not return to his dorm, that night. It was as he was thinking this, that the dim light coming from the lifeguard’s house caught his attention, and the boy paused, brow furrowing in thought. So, there was someone else out this late? After a moment of hesitation, Peyton began making his way over, face entirely expressionless. As always. It wasn’t a few moments later in which he approached the smaller house, and, not bothering to use the stairs, Peyton grasped onto the railing, before easily pulling himself atop it. He was a strong boy, constant activity tended to do that to you, and so he stood easily on top of the railing, watching the stranger momentarily, before hopping off of it and onto the wood surface just a foot or two away from her. The boy was silent as he sat, leaning against the lifeguard house, and just watched her, his expression giving her no hints as to what he was currently feeling. His eyes raked over her, just discreetly, and he found himself rather satisfied; she was attractive, he’d give her that. “Hey.” Was all the man said, a brow quirking in slight question. He was no, talkative man, nor did he really give shit that he was interrupting her, so she’d have to deal. Yes, he'd taken notice of her crying, but no, he hardly felt sympathetic. Life was full of tears; she'd get over it, just like he had. They say bad things always happen for a reason,
But no wide words are going to stop the bleeding...
Words: 1, 135 Muse: Alright Notes: I'm still getting used to playing him, so sorry if it fails. Also, I didn't proof it. e.e Oh, and sorry he's being kind of a dick, ignoring her crying and whatnot. It's just how he is. D; [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by KATYA ELIZABETH RIVERA on Feb 11, 2012 23:51:30 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Hotel California
And I was thinking to myself.
this could be heaven
or
this could be hell..... - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
‘Hey Daddy’ the then fourteen year old excitedly spoke on the telephone as her mother was getting their bags ready for the airport. ‘Hey sweety, how are you?’ the father responded with some noise in the background of giggling. “I’m okay, about to go to the airport with mom, are you going to meet us there?’ she asked hoping that her father would. She knew that he wouldn’t be joining them on their trip, but seeing him face to face one time would mean a lot to her. “im sorry sweety, but that – “ he started saying as he laughed again, accompanying another laugh in the background. “This’ll just be quick baby”, her father said to whoever was with him before getting back on the phone
“I won’t be able to sweety, I have a meeting to go too, but I’m sending some money with your mother ok, it’s for you” the father explained, as if the money would make the situation better. Katya nodded, a little saddened, before saying “well I’ll call you when we get there, I’ll-“ she started saying again, some slight excitement in the tone of her voice, which was quickly shut down as her father cut her off saying “ok sweety, daddy has to go, be safe and take care, talk to you soon.” And that was it. The cold sound of the receiver hanging up on the other side gave Katya an unsettling feeling in her stomach. This wasn’t the way Katya wanted to leave her home behind, but there was no way to change it now. She looked at her mom, and gave her the best smile possible, feeling the exact opposite on the inside, and shortly after, they were on their way to the airport.
Years later Katya was nothing like the daddy’s little girl she used to be. Words could not describe her strong hatred for the man. The man who single-handedly tore down a happy home for some careless fun, not even caring about the effects it had on his wife, and daughter. This trip down memory lane was all too familiar, mainly because when Katya was alone, she would think about it constantly, being drowned in her own thoughts. In the beginning of their stay in the O.C., Katya would jump up and run to the phone when she heard it ring, in hopes it would be her father, only to be disappointed when hearing the voice of anyone but him. Calling once in a blue moon became a habit for Mr. Rivera, and when he did, the conversation was always kept short and anything but sweet.
After a while, Katya was no longer thrilled to communicate with her father, and her lack of enthusiasm quickly turned into hate when she accidently overheard her mother and aunt talk about the past, and how he cheated, on his mother, with another woman, a much younger one at that. When Katya was a child, all she heard was that they couldn’t get along anymore, thinking it was mutual, but this news made everything become crystal clear. After that, when her father did call, Katya would always tell her mom to make up some excuse to not talk to him, sure it might have sounded childish, but when it came down to Katya, she truly sucked at hiding how she really felt, so had she ever been given the phone, her dad would immediately find out her change of heart for him, and Katya didn’t feel like dealing with the drama.
How did she cope? Like any teenager in the O.C. would, partying, drinking, smoking, dancing her ass off, and listening to music. Dance however, was her biggest and best escape, and it was probably the safest one at that. How she triggered her body to move in different forms, being in complete control of her emotions and never thinking about anything but her next move, dancing was probably her life. Dancing at Equinox Nightclub however, was a method to pay the bills without getting fired for her smart lip in front of her bosses. Ever since she was old enough, Katya had been working to help her mother with the bills around the house, trying to make up for the lack of financial support. This only caused her to be exhausted during the day while she was in school, but it was a sacrifice she put on herself, for her mother, a woman who did nothing but give a man all her tender love and care, to be betrayed in the end and unappreciated.
Katya refused to have her future be a remake of that, so a commitment with a guy was always out of the question. How can she trust a stranger with her heart, if the one guy that was biologically programmed to love her left her in the dust for a selfish act? Nope, Katya refused to let her guard down, with anyone. Moving on, Katya blinked twice catching sight of the beach water, the moon reflecting from above, as she lifted the Jameson bottle and took another swig. Wait she thought to herself as her peripheral vision caught sight of something that was not there before, quickly wiping her cheek with another tear, Katya turned her head and out of nowhere stood a tall figure looking right at her. Katya jumped a little not knowing where he came from. “Jesus – “ she said grabbing the balcony ledge to keep her balance on it.
Her heart started beating a little fast at the surprise, not hearing anything he was saying because the music she had playing on her itouch was blasting in her ears. “Where the hell did you pop out of?” were the choice of words she decided to use to greet the stranger pulling the ear plugs out of her ear and moving a candle closer to him to be able to see what he actually looked like, in case she would end up at the police station and needed to describe his features. Surprised he was randomly good looking; she noticed his skin shine from what seemed to be either sweat or water, raising a questioning brow on the brunette’s face. “…and more importantly, what kind of lunatic creeps up on a girl at night not knowing whether she carries any kind of pepper spray or weapons?”
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