Accidents. [Let the evening in the back door...]Author: twin_2_tell
MA+ [Parody, course language, strong sexual themes, adult themes] *Note- Themes may appear later in the fic*Pairing:
Rydon/ Ryden (Ryan/ Brendon)POV:
The story has some true aspects in it and some untrue aspects. I wrote it for experimentation and something good to write hopefully. [Experimental Writing for the Creative Mind]Disclaimer:
I don't own any characters in the fic and the story is fiction. Author Notes:
I have written many fics (mainly about Rydon) but this is the first one that I've ever posted online. Comments and constructive criticism would be nice. Thankyou =]
The house was dark. It was always dark at night, but it was especially dark tonight. Ryan hesitantly peered
around the corner to see his father sitting in the lounge room, his silhouette shadowing the animated
Ryan's two younger half-brothers were already in bed, asleep and safe. Safe from not only the terrors that lurked outside, but the terrors that managed to scream inside too sometimes. At 16 years of age Ryan spent most of his time in his room, like every other normal teenager. Writing lyrics thoughtfully, playing PS2 with Brendon on a good day, or hiding in desperate fear on what is more than a bad day. Much more.
Ryan thought about his mother rarely, however he did think about the fact that life might be different with his mother around. Ryan's parents divorced when he was merely 3 years old, and he was to young to feel that sickening effect that he had felt since his 14th birthday. Since his father had started abusing him, bashing him.11:30, he should be asleep. Ryan didn't sleep much, he usually woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and anxious. He had been experiencing horrifying nightmares in the last few weeks, and his eyes had become slightly weary, his skin more pale, and his frame even more tiny. Every night, Ryan's father would say goodnight to his three sons. Then, on Ryan's 14th birthday, when life turned into a mess of tumbled emotions and troubled nights, Ryan's father didn't say a word. He had never said goodnight again to his eldest son, sober or not. Ryan thought it had something to do with his girlish traits, but he wasn't quiet sure. Ryan glanced at his father, who took yet another swig from his near-empty beer bottle, then silently slipped away in to his room. Ryan sighed. Tomorrow would be a Thursday. He hated Thursday's. They tormented him maths, HPE and Geography. They also blocked out Friday, and Friday was the last day of the school week. Friday was the day before Saturday, the weekend.
"How's it going, freak!," someone yelled across the hall. Ryan took no notice. Last time he had tried to stand up for himself he had almost gotten himself thrown into a gurney and wheeled down to the hospital with a black eye and bleeding nose. So he concentrated on his smooth hands, much too smooth for a rugged gentleman unlike himself which held his english book carefully. Ryan loved english. Not so much the grammar and punctuation side of it, but looking at different eras and passages in time, where philosophers and writers were once born with pride. Ryan often found different people who once lived when the world wasn't so horrible, but possibly worse, which he looked up to for inspiration. Mostly writers, a playwright here and there, maybe a musician or two. Ryan was also teased about his love for literature. The whole class, instead of congratulating him, despised him for being a straight A student.
Ryan kept to himself during lunchtime. He ate alone, picking at cold macaroni and cheese that the school canteen supplied distastefully.
End of chapter 1...what do you think? I'll be posting the next chapter soon.
Ryan's birthday is in August, and September is the new school year. Ryan started highschool, as a freshmen, rather lonely. His first day of highschool was accompanied by stares, mutters and an assortment of cold words. Ryan started highschool as a loner. He had no smiling friends to walk with him into the 'unknown' where terrors worse than home were said to possibly occur. He was all alone in a world he felt like he did not belong to sometimes. Ryan was immediately categorized as an emo, nerd and loner.
Of course he had no idea that his first day of highschool was to be one of his worst. Ryan awoke that morning, slightly trembling. Because of excitement or nervousness he could not decide. He struggled to hide his bruises under a black hoodie, unsuccessfully. His father had made sure that Ryan's '14th birthday surprise' would last. Ryan didn't understand why his father had beaten him, on his birthday. Weren't birthdays supposed to be filled with love and happiness? Ryan just didn't know now. Perhaps his father beat him because Ryan had naively dyed his dark brown hair black for the first time, or maybe it was because Ryan hadn't matured
yet, physically or mentally. Or maybe it was because Ryan was scrawnier than both his younger brothers and was not very good at football and being 'masculine'. Whatever the reason, Ryan's dad had begun to beat him ruthlessly. As Ryan took his first daunting steps into 'Westward High' he was met with careful, inquisitive stares and pursed lips. An air of torment, cruel laughter and smirking faces with traces of instant judgment creeped unnoticed through the hallway filled with students that Ryan found somewhat frightening. Ryan sometimes believed that he did not belong in the world, and that God had accidentally put him there, as an unwanted mistake.
As Ryan made his way quietly down the hall, people looked up and whispered in hushed voices. He knew they might be talking about him, but couldn't tell for sure. Had people noticed Ryan's turquoise bruises, through the make-up? Perhaps Ryan's father had beat him because he liked to wear a hint of eyeliner beneath his honey coloured orbs. Now Ryan had to wear make-up that he didn't want to, for entirely different reasons.
His innocent face had foundation lightly patted on it, to hide the marks and bruises. He was ridiculed for the first time when he stepped into his english classroom. Ryan already knew what a busted lip felt like, but something made this different. The boy that had punched him had done it out of spite, but he didn't know Ryan, he didn't know who Ryan was or what he was like, the boy had punched Ryan because he was different
. Ryan had also been teased, but this was again, different. It was terrifying
. It was though these cruel people had been waiting for Ryan to walk into their lives, just so they could make his life miserable too. Highschool was as everyone had put it.
A year passed dreadfully, and Ryan turned 15. Hair grew in unexpected places but his voice remained quiet and reserved. It hadn't broken yet. Maybe this is why Ryan's father continued to beat him. Over and over, intensely brutal. Ryan didn't know how to defend himself properly. He could throw a punch, but his father was massive and ruthless, and Ryan was vaguely the opposite. No one had ever taught him how to fight. He had been scrawny and shy his whole life, and if the world was waiting for him to spring into life with painted grins and imaginary chatter, then the world would surely get lonely waiting for him. By mid-term in year 10 Ryan couldn't decide which was worse, school or home.
At school he was laughed at because he was so introverted and indifferent. But Ryan didn't have the luxury of going home and getting his pain silenced by gentle hugs and caressing hands. Home was just another equally painful dose of rapid screams and bruised tears gasping for life. Ryan was accused of not being 'normal' at home, and was beaten, again
. Ryan had no idea what his father thought 'normal' was. At school and home, Ryan was always ridiculed for looking feminine. He was average height for his age, but his intriguing honey eyes and dark hair (which he had inherited from his mother) were not considered fine traits, but feminine curses that tormented him. Ryan was accused of being a girl. A faggot, a pussy, a retard. Ryan couldn't understand it. His face, his innocence, made him look girlish. His fragile frame and narrow shoulders made him appear as a girl from behind. Maybe it was Ryan's skinny-leg jeans that made his legs look longer and thinner, like those of a woman. He was skinnier than half the girls in his class and could write better than all
the girls in his class.
Ryan wrote away all his pain and confusion circling like vultures in his mind. He always carried a small notebook, or journal as Ryan would refer to it when questioned by his glaring father, which contained his world in it. His "diary" was just one more thing that made Ryan a 'girl' in the eyes of blistering teenagers. Poems, lyrics, laments, requiems and short stories filled the many pages of his notebook. Not a space was left to stare blankly up at Ryan, who would scribble his feelings and distorted thoughts through clenched teeth. He used his notebook as an escape from harsh reality. Ryan would sometimes hope naively that he would be tossed into the pages of his journal and never have to face school or his father again.
Ryan still doesn't know why his father beats him. But he knows that his father only beats him when he's drink, which is most of the time. Ryan's father got drunk blind on his eldest son's 14th birthday and since then has never stopped drinking, or beating Ryan. When he's sober Ryan's father objects to bashing him. Although Ryan's father loves his sons very much, his alcohol addiction is his downfall, and he prays on Ryan because Ryan is the most sensitive and shy out of the 3 siblings. Ryan is seen as an 'easy target' at home and school. Ryan's father has been hospilized 6 times already this year. Ryan often wishes that his soft voice broke when he was 14 years old, then maybe his dad and the rest of the world wouldn't hate him. Maybe they wouldn't laugh at him for being so pretty. Ryan couldn't help it though. He had gotten his mother's gentle lips, which words flow in wandering daydreams and fluent wisps, and an enduring face with a cute button nose that only 'cute' girls were said to possess. Maybe Ryan's former girlfriend had dumped him because she said she wasn't attracted to 'girls'. Ryan had caught her cheating on him, which made life even more confusing and miserable than ever. Ryan didn't understand anything. Although he is a very bright student he has always had trouble understanding society and the world around him. His life is so emotionally unbalanced that Ryan finds it hard to keep living. Since he was 14, Ryan's self-esteem has almost vanished and he is so emotionally fragile that he doesn't have the willpower to fight back life. He often wonders..."Why persist with life and remain alive when it almost kills you anyway?" We're all going to die someday...
Ryan sighed. It was