the Murder in the Mourning {tuesday}

[NOVEMBER STARR]

*---I DON'T CARE I HAVE NO LUCK

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{ I DON'T MISS IT ALL THAT MUCH }

s o m a n y t h i n g s i c a n t t o u c h[/font][/center]

November looked like she was going to a funeral.... Well, it was more brown than black, so it read more like "shit" than "mourning," but that was pretty appropriate too. She felt like she was going to a funeral, and it was an understatement to say she felt like shit. Nov tried not to grab at her hair, she resisting the urge to yank out every little strand and scream until she couldn't even speak. But damn, was that urge strong...

No, she told herself as she walked into the... what was this? It was a dance, with some kind of murder mystery as entertainment. "Guess what? It's solved. The attempted murder of Thursday Davenport is solved. Third Degree," she mumbled to herself as she walked without seeing what was happening around her. She stopped for a moment and looked up from her feet to the ceiling as if speaking to someone who had called her out on something. "It wasn't my intention..." she said with a frown. Does that count for anything anymore...? She was surprised she'd even allowed herself to make a friend after the incident. At the thought of Pig she couldn't help but smile, but she quickly remembered to slip back into her somber mentality.

Walking blankly ahead once more, she heard her name called twice, and looked up with an empty expression to see a boy she was working with on a project. She attempted a half-smile, and nodded at him before her head dropped to her feet again. He walked up to her despite the air of defeat she gave off. It seemed he misunderstood something... She pointed out his error and he seemed to make a connection... at the same time that he realized the dead look in her eyes and thanked her quickly, reaching out as if to pat her shoulder before walking away quickly.

She unconsciously watched him until he was lost in the crowd. Just for something to do. Nov looked around her when she realized what she'd been doing. Walking away from the scene as quickly as her groggy, troubled mind would allow her to execute such an action, she soon found a rise in the level of the floor she hadn't taken her eyes off of. She slowly sank down to sit on the step of sorts, though it led up to a stage where a banner was hung expressing the theme of the dance (it was murder mystery after all...). It was near the front of the room, three wide steps stretched in a horizontal semi-circle, all leading up to the color she felt none of.

Tsk... How long has it been since you last slept?

.... And now she was hearing things. "I don't know..." she said aloud, staring blankly ahead and not seeing, but looking through everything in front of her to see only darkness.

this is you thinking
"this is you talking"
"this is someone else speaking"

YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE I'M ALREADY TORN

t a g g e d TUESDAY
WORDS noooo clueee
s t a t u s complete!
NOTES sorreh 'bout all the angst
o u t f i t click please!
MUSIC Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade and a long playlist of Flyleaf songs.
c r e d i t MELLY ! @ NEVER RAINS

[/left]

[TUESDAY DAVENPORT]

Tuesday sipped a Diet Pepsi that had he’d swiped from the snack table, rubbing his forehead distractedly. The kids he hung out with in school were all here. He could see them, dancing like the stupid, reckless teenagers they all were. That Tuesday was. In theory.

Of course, “stupid reckless teenager” had taken on a whole new meaning in recent events.

Tuesday stared into the crowd, waving to kids he assumed he knew, even though he barely had time to register the silhouettes of faces before they were whisked away into the crowd. A few fist-pounds, a few manhugs, a few giggly girls mistaking him for Thursday who he pointed in the other direction.

There’s a lady who’s sure
All that glitters is gold
And she’s buying the stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows
If the stores are all closed
Ooh ooh, and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.

Right. The slowdance would be starting already. Tuesday felt friendless and alone in the enormous room of sweaty, shaking bodies. He tossed his soda can into the nearest recycling, hugging his knees and preparing to withdraw from the world for a while. Or at least, until it got to the freakin’ awesome guitar part with the whole “listen very hard, the tune will…nah nah nah…ROCK AND ROLL” part. Then, he might just have to rock out.

Ugh. Why was this song so long? He always had a girl to dance with at these things. Always had a girl. Maybe he should just-

"Guess what? It's solved. The attempted murder of Thursday Davenport is solved. Third Degree."

Tuesday’s head snapped upwards at the familiar syllables of his brother’s name. “I’mnothimI’mhisbrother,” he spat out automatically. “Ifyou’relookingforhimhe’s…oh! Novemer! Hey, uh, hey, November! Hey, November!” Tuesday jumped awkwardly to his feet. “Uh, hey, uh, slow dance. Do you want to, uh…” God. God. God, Tuesday, what was going on? And why did she look so…zombie-ish? “Dance? Do you want to, uh, dance? With me?”

“Please?” he added lamely, glancing around and noticing that they were pretty much the only two attendees that were still awkwardly standing by the wall.

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[/center]

358 WORDS | COMPLETE | TAGS: NOVEMBER | OUTFIT
LYRICS BY ALL TIME LOW | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
NOW GIVE THEM A NICE NOTE HERE!

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[NOVEMBER STARR]

*---I DON'T CARE I HAVE NO LUCK

[/font]
{ I DON'T MISS IT ALL THAT MUCH }

s o m a n y t h i n g s i c a n t t o u c h[/font][/center]

Nov's reactions were definitely slower than usual. For the most part, it had taken her at least a full minute to even look up at a person speaking to her, another to register what they'd said, though by then the response tended to flow straight out of her mouth without any thought of the words she was saying. She hardly remembered them most of the time. They just came out of her without any approval from her rational mind. She couldn't imagine what she might have said to someone... The thought of it churned her stomach.

However, when she heard that voice - his voice, her head snapped up instantly. Her eyes widened automatically, brighter than they had been for weeks. She simply stared at Tuesday Davenport until her eyes watered. After forcing herself to blink, and rubbing at her awfully tired eyes, she looked back at him. The sick feeling she got when she was afraid of letting her outside appearance slip returned, but in a different way. It wasn't a churning, just.... some sort of battering against the walls of her stomach, light and annoying.

“I’mnothimI’mhisbrother,” he spat out automatically. “Ifyou’relookingforhimhe’s…oh! Novemer! Hey, uh, hey, November! Hey, November!” Tuesday jumped awkwardly to his feet. “Uh, hey, uh, slow dance. Do you want to, uh…”

November couldn't help but smile at the familiar stumbling over his words. She failed to notice that it was much less forced than most of her smiles had been lately. "Hey, Tuesday..." she responded, within thirty seconds of his speaking to her this time! But.... What was he saying? What was he asking her? Was he even asking her something? Her head cocked to the side automatically, and her brow furrowed. Given her usually composed face, her emotions being broken down to their simplest form, an unfortunate side effect of her insomnia, made each one plainly readable on her face. This irritated her, but she often didn't think about it. The dead look, the blank, hollow face was the real way she'd felt for a while now.

“Dance? Do you want to, uh, dance? With me?”

Nov stared at him for a minute, still confused by this, but knowing came over her face as soon as she was able to unscramble his words. This expression was followed quickly by surprise and a red tint that her pale cheeks had not seen in quite some time. Her head spun. Dance...? Did he mean dance....? It was a slow dance... What... He wanted to slow dance? With her? Why on earth... What? "I..."

[/b] she said in the midst of grasping the concept. Glancing around, she did make the assessment that she was the last available partner. Oh... Well, she should've been used to being a last resort, especially when it came to the men in her life.

"Please?"

Oh! She hadn't answered him! "I.... I would love to," she accepted, figuring that it would at least be polite. He'd asked, after all... After the fumbling it took to get there, that is. "Oh... I like this song..." she commented, just now noticing the musical selection blasting from the speakers. She pulled him by the wrist to the area where couples were dancing. "Some place for a fancy dance party, eh? And to think we live in New York City, of all places..." she pointed out with another smile, this one entertained by her own thoughts.

As awkwardly as she felt would ever be possible, she released his wrist, turned to face him, and put her hands on his shoulders. That was tradition for high school slow dances, yes? It was happening all around her, as she'd managed to integrate them into the crowd. Of course she'd surrounded them with the sappiest couples she'd ever seen at Baum...

this is you thinking
"this is you talking"
"this is someone else speaking"
[/size][/blockquote] [/blockquote]
[/justify]

YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE I'M ALREADY TORN

t a g g e d TUESDAY
WORDS noooo clueee
s t a t u s complete!
NOTES dammit, Nov, you're such a pessimist... stop over-thinking and just accept the damn sweet moment! >|
o u t f i t click please!
MUSIC DON'T! YOU! WANT! ME! BAAAABAAAAAYYY! also Stairway to Heaven
c r e d i t MELLY ! @ NEVER RAINS

[/left][/quote]

[TUESDAY DAVENPORT]

She was staring at him. She was totally staring at him and not saying anything. Tuesday wasn’t a psychologist or anything, but he was pretty sure that staring at someone and not saying anything was generally what you did when you thought someone was weird and creepy and stupid and/or ugly, and definitely not what you did when you wanted to dance with someone. Or liked them. Or enjoyed their presence. Or were like, generally inclined towards them in any way. So great. Great. Perfect. Fabulous.

Whatever.

Sure, Tuesday. Yeah, Tuesday. Let’s dance the night away, Tuesday. You know, the normal, desired response to such a question. What people said. And Of course, there she was, staring and staring and staring and-

"Hey, Tuesday..."

“Hey,” he said quietly. He kicked a heel against the gym floor, physically unable to meet her eyes. Why had he asked her, again? Why was he such a god damn idiot? He knew he was about to be rejected. And he knew he couldn’t handle another blow to his…heart? His soul? His whatever it was that had been getting pummeled and squeezed and shredded this whole time. It couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take it.

"I..."

Shit. Tuesday braced himself for the impact, though he knew that all the bracing in the world wasn’t going to do diddly squat once the hurricane hit.

"I.... I would love to,"

Huhwhat?

Alright, or that worked too.

He let himself be pulled along, following November’s lead, feeling a brief spurt of relief coursing through him. Alright. He had a dance. This should make things significantly less awkward.

"Some place for a fancy dance party, eh? And to think we live in New York City, of all places..."

Of course, knowing him, and knowing her, it probably wouldn’t.

“Yeah. Murder Mystery. Uh, weird, huh?”

He didn’t really feel like talking. He hadn’t really felt like talking in a really, really long time. He wasn’t sure if he ever would again. He really just wanted to stand here, holding his friend-who-was-a-girl and swaying back and forth and turning and shit, thinking about things and trying to forget the past few months, the worst months of his life. Maybe this whole awkwardness deal would help take his mind of things. Maybe. But probably not.

387 WORDS | COMPLETE | TAGS: NOVEMBER | OUTFIT
LYRICS BY ALL TIME LOW | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
NOW GIVE THEM A NICE NOTE HERE: REALLY REALLY RANDOM AND RAMBLING SOOZZZ

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[NOVEMBER STARR]

*---I DON'T CARE I HAVE NO LUCK

[/font]
{ I DON'T MISS IT ALL THAT MUCH }

s o m a n y t h i n g s i c a n t t o u c h[/font][/center]

As November was, at the moment, rather incapacitated when it came down to thinking, processing, and responding, she failed to notice how much tension was building up in the person opposite her while her mind recovered from the initial shock of being spoken to by this person. It wasn't until after she answered and saw him relax that she even noticed he'd been nervous. 'Oh, good. That makes two of us' she thought, relieved herself by this observation. Though still annoyed at how long it took her to come to that conclusion...

November swayed them back and forth, practically feeling the awkward around them. The couples began to press closer to them and away from the couples they'd been pressed against as the latest addition to the dance floor decided on a place. Except for the exception of three couples with partners seemingly trying to suck each other's faces off, the people around them seemed to feel the wall of awkward like they felt like they'd be wading in very deep water instead of dancing on air if they got any closer. Nov was already moving slower, though for a minute straight she did nothing but let her eyes flit around at the various people surrounding them.

“Yeah. Murder Mystery. Uh, weird, huh?”

[/i]

Huhwhat? Oh, right, right, she'd commented on their location. Which he was returning with a comment on the theme. Well, she could roll with that pretty easily. Despite that look in his eyes pleading with her that he didn't want to talk, she couldn't help herself. "Yeah, yeah... It is weird, right? I mean... Do you even know what we're supposed to do?" she replied. "It's a dance, it feels silly to do anything but dance.... Well, no, that sounds weird. Neither of us were dancing before... Well, I wasn't. Were you? Well, it doesn't matter, it'll still be odd." Nov winced at how she was rambling and contradicting herself before the voice in her head scoffed.

Really, now. You're a smart girl, you'd think you would be able to hold a decent and perhaps even INTERESTING, God forbid, ENGAGING conversation! She could almost hear him shaking his head. Even with MY brains to back you up, you turn into a blathering buffoon! At least speak of SOMETHING he can RELATE to. For the dolt that he is, YOU are insulting HIS "intelligence" with your nonsensical drivel!

Nov did not know what this voice in her head was, and she was sure that she should've been worried about it, but shame was the most prominent emotion she felt. He was right, whoever he was, though she had to ignore the remarks on Tuesday in order to keep herself from yelling at nobody out of nowhere. What could she talk about... What would he be able to talk about with her... What related to him...? Of course! Thursday! She subconsciously bit her lip before confirming the subject. He probably wasn't over the whole incident... Wait! That was it! She could console him!

How would she console him? A thoughtful look came over her face as she racked her brains.... AHA! The whole 'you're not alone' bit would do nicely! He could probably tell that she wasn't getting over anything anytime soon, so he would know it was consolation, right? Okaaaay, statistics, statistics... Meh, wikia answers wasn't the best source, but it was definitely convenient.

"You know..." the girl began, a little nervously. "Er... You heard me earlier, didn't you? I was kind of... talking to myself about Thursday, and I've been thinking... You know, this happens to people every day... About 2000 people kill themselves a day. That's successfully, mind you, so you could be a whole lot worse off. About 500 a day in the US just attempt suicide. Actually, the day of the week that most people commit suicide on is Thursday. There are a lot of people who go through this, and a lot of them have to pay for funerals instead of hospital bills. And I don't think it's something someone can ever really get over. So... You're.... Uhm...."[/b]

Nov tried to swallow back the lump in her throat, but it wouldn't budge. She couldn't speak anymore, she'd started thinking about things too much. 'Does everyone who goes through this feel this way too? Shit, I sound like such an idiot. I'm just throwing numbers at him now.'

this is you thinking
"this is you talking"
"this is someone else speaking"
[/size][/blockquote] [/blockquote]
[/justify]

YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE I'M ALREADY TORN

t a g g e d TUESDAY
WORDS noooo clueee
s t a t u s complete!
NOTES aw, honey... also, I love writing these random glimpses of owl. He's going to be so annoying and offensive. It'll be great.
o u t f i t click please!
MUSIC Terrible Things by Mayday Parade .__. So depressing.
c r e d i t MELLY ! @ NEVER RAINS

[/left]

[TUESDAY DAVENPORT]

Tuesday swayed back and forth, resting his face on November’s shoulder and wondering, seriously, what in the hell had gotten into him today. Why had he asked a girl to dance, again? God, he never even went to dances except to fill the punch bowl with spicy jabenero sauce, or replace the DJ’s setlist with a CD of the My Little Pony soundtrack or anything in the world that wasn’t awkwardly hugging some girl, not knowing what he was supposed to do now. Other people were kissing. Were they supposed to kiss? November wouldn’t want to kiss him. Of course not. That was stupid. Tuesday was a lame underachiever, and why would anyone as freakin’ beautiful as-

No, stop, stop it! Thinking stuff like that was totally the absolute worst thing he could possibly do right now. November would creeped out as hell if she knew what he was thinking. She’d probably throw him down on the ground, like in the karate kid with the creepy skeleton guys, even though those costumes had been really freakin’ funny.

"Yeah, yeah... It is weird, right? I mean... Do you even know what we're supposed to do?" she replied. "It's a dance, it feels silly to do anything but dance.... Well, no, that sounds weird. Neither of us were dancing before... Well, I wasn't. Were you? Well, it doesn't matter, it'll still be odd."

“Yeah…” Tuesday was so caught up in her voice and cadence, he barely noticed when she’d finished speaking. “Uh, no. No, I never really…saw the point in…I think there’s a mystery though, that like, people have been trying to solve…” Wow. Shit. A mystery to solve, at a dance that’s mystery themed? Nice going there. “Something Thursday would like, probably.” Thursday was probably back in their dorm, chilling with Wednesday and reading some book. Tuesday felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. His brother had said it was fine, but still. Tuesday should have been back there. Tuesday should have been with him.

"Er... You heard me earlier, didn't you? I was kind of... talking to myself about Thursday, and I've been thinking... You know, this happens to people every day... About 2000 people kill themselves a day. That's successfully, mind you, so you could be a whole lot worse off. About 500 a day in the US just attempt suicide. Actually, the day of the week that most people commit suicide on is Thursday. There are a lot of people who go through this, and a lot of them have to pay for funerals instead of hospital bills. And I don't think it's something someone can ever really get over. So... You're.... Uhm...."

Tuesday paused. The swaying in his legs was cut off abruptly, his body snapping to rigid attention. “Wait. I’m sorry. Say that again.” He listened, slowly raising his head as his dance partner went on and on about big numbers and people and success and Thursday. His eyes began to widen in incredulity as he took a step back.

Was she…”No, no, stop. Get off me.” Tuesday pulled himself sharply back from her embrace. Was he hearing her correctly? Was she…her words pierced through his ears and straight to his core. In an instant, he felt his mindframe rocket from passive to livid. “Right. Fuck. I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes, something he’d been doing more and more lately. “500 a day. I’m totally ignorant. Here I was, wasting my time worrying about my goddamned twin brother when actually, fuck, there are 499 more people in the country just like him?” Tuesday’s every emotion had been swallowed by the passionate anger blaring inside him, the sudden vehement fury and hatred towards this girl, this girl who thought she could just stroll into his life and pretend she knew every damn thing he’d been going through lately. “I don’t have to pay for a funeral. Break out the booze, we’d better start celebrating.”

He jabbed a foot against the bleacher, felt the tears spring to his eyes again. Fuck, he hadn’t cried in almost sixteen hours. He’d really been on a roll there.

Tuesday felt the volume of his voice escalate until he was practically shouting. He could see heads turning and he knew he was overreacting, but at this point he’d lost all rational control of himself. “Shut up!” He cut her off with a vicious snarl. “What, you’re telling me I have no right to be a tad bit out of it because I almost killed my brother?” His voice caught in his throat and he coughed, wiping his eyes furiously. “I mean, I only pulled him out of the river when he’d been underwater for like five minutes and his skin was blue.” He was conscious of the fact that he was shouting his mouth off right now, but he couldn’t stop himself, not now. November had no idea what it was like to borderline commit manslaughter against your best friend. Who the fuck was she, to tell him that he couldn’t freak out a little bit? Thursday wasn’t one in five hundred. Thursday wasn’t some god damn statistic that November could just rattle off. “I held his hand while they stuck needles into him. I stayed by his bed 24/7 until they decided they weren’t going to stick him in some insane asylum. I stood there outside the door while the doctors argued about whether he was alive or dead!” He was freaking out over this. Thursday wouldn’t freak out over this. Thursday would handle it civilly. But he wasn’t Thursday.

He sank onto the bench, his hands still clenched in fists. “And you don’t know anything. You don’t know what the fuck any of this has been like for me. You don’t know what it’s like to dream every night about him falling off that damn bridge, and you don’t know what it’s like to wake up crying every morning because you’re sure the person you’ve spent every day and every night of your life with is dead because of you.” His glare was ablaze with hostility. “So don’t even try to tell me that ‘there are a lot of people who go through this’.”

He twisted a section of railing until it broke off in his hand. So November wasn’t different. She was just like everybody fucking else. Maybe he and his brother really were alone in the world.

1111 WORDS | COMPLETE | TAGS: NOVEMBER | OUTFIT
LYRICS BY ALL TIME LOW | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
NOW GIVE THEM A NICE NOTE HERE: Meep that was agonizing to write.

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[NOVEMBER STARR]

*---I DON'T CARE I HAVE NO LUCK

[/font]
{ I DON'T MISS IT ALL THAT MUCH }

s o m a n y t h i n g s i c a n t t o u c h[/font][/center]

“Uh, no. No, I never really…saw the point in…I think there’s a mystery though, that like, people have been trying to solve…” Wow. Shit. A mystery to solve, at a dance that’s mystery themed? Nice going there. “Something Thursday would like, probably.”

Nov chuckled at his suggestion. "Yeah... I bet that's it..."

[/color] she agreed, with her smirking grin. It was the most honest way that she smiled. Just a little grin tipped a bit to the side as if it was thinking with her. Of course, she couldn't help but smile around him... No! No thinking like that! Stop it! She shook her head lightly. There would be no thinking about how funny, cute, amazing, awesome, or ANYTHING of that nature about Tuesday tonight! Come on, come on, just... converse. Aha! And he brought up Thursday! What a perfect segue!

“Wait. I’m sorry. Say that again.”

As soon as she finished, though she hadn't really finished, she knew she'd done wrong. He'd gone rigid, whereas she'd gone nearly limp from all of the emotional drainage she'd put herself through. He didn't really want her to say it again, did he? Her mouth moved, trying to obey his request, but nothing came out. Air barely came out. Her breathing was getting seriously shallow, and she felt herself becoming dizzy. No. She couldn't do this. He'd probably end up blaming himself if she passed out. She forced a few deep breaths before looking up and trying to speak again.

”No, no, stop. Get off me.”[/color]

'Oh, thank God.' Or at least that was her thought before she was ripped away from him as he pulled back. November looked at him, confused. He........ did not look consoled... Oh, now you've done it. Bring up his suicidal other half. That was a smart move. Nov winced at the voice. He... was right again.

“Right. Fuck. I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes, something he’d been doing more and more lately. “500 a day. I’m totally ignorant. Here I was, wasting my time worrying about my goddamned twin brother when actually, fuck, there are 499 more people in the country just like him?”

Nov's eyes widened a bit. He... Tuesday didn't say fuck. Something was really wrong. As he spoke, she began to back up a little. Shit. Shit shit shit! She was so fucking out of line... Statistics don't mean shit when it's someone you're close to! She should've known that! Fuck!

“I don’t have to pay for a funeral. Break out the booze, we’d better start celebrating.”[/color]

There was no taking what she'd said back now. Her attention was fixated on every single word he said. Every fiber in her being was on fire with the venom she felt behind his voice. And pain. Pain so much worse than anything she'd felt. November jumped when he kicked the bleachers. He... Was he...? He was crying? Tears? What the hell, Tuesday didn't... She shook her head and cut off the thought. Of course he did. Everyone did. God, she was selfish. "I-"[/color] she started. The pain and guilt she'd been trying to suppress laid exposed with the single vowel. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes.

"Shut up!" She flinched and stepped back again. “What, you’re telling me I have no right to be a tad bit out of it because I almost killed my brother?”[/color] What? "What... No, you-" she said, shaking her head again. Cut off again, she whimpered. “I mean, I only pulled him out of the river when he’d been underwater for like five minutes and his skin was blue.” He... What? November stepped closer from her place of cowering from this sad boy. He.... "I... I didn't-"[/b] Shut. Up. She couldn't even be sure which voice this was anymore, but she obeyed.

“I held his hand while they stuck needles into him. I stayed by his bed 24/7 until they decided they weren’t going to stick him in some insane asylum. I stood there outside the door while the doctors argued about whether he was alive or dead!”

'Asylum?' November could do nothing but shake her head. No... This wasn't right... It just wasn't right.... But he captured her attention again with his words. She couldn't even see anything. All she could do was feel his words and the wounds they were opening and reopening.

“And you don’t know anything. You don’t know what the fuck any of this has been like for me. You don’t know what it’s like to dream every night about him falling off that damn bridge, and you don’t know what it’s like to wake up crying every morning because you’re sure the person you’ve spent every day and every night of your life with is dead because of you.” His glare was ablaze with hostility. “So don’t even try to tell me that ‘there are a lot of people who go through this’.”[/color]

She... She didn't know shit. She could feel his anger seeping into her, withering every living part of her. Her breathing was dangerously shallow now. The sound of something breaking brought her back to reality, if only to see if he'd broken her neck as he ought to. No... A piece of railing. 'Shame...' she thought.

With that thought, everything came down, and she collapsed onto the floor in sobs. Shaking uncontrollably, she tried to lift herself up. Needless to say, she failed miserably. Falling to the floor again, she absently wondered if she could somehow make her molecules burst and disappear with willpower... Then she remembered that willpower was something she lacked severely.

But she had enough to know that there was something she needed to say. Forcing herself up. she sat on her knees and stared at him as the sobs rocked her entire body. Her head too heavy to hold, it dropped to face the floor and she spoke between sobs. "I... I wake up next to him... Every day... And I... Trust me, it... It can't be you... When it's all my fault." On the last word her voice cracked and the sobs seemed to start fresh. She could barely gasp for air anymore, but she forced herself to swallow back the lump in her throat. She wasn't finished.

"I'm so sorry. I'm such a fucking dumbass. I just... I didn't think you would blame yourself... If I... If I hadn't... Shown my stupid face... This wouldn't have happened... I'm sorry... So... So sorry... I tore you apart... It's all my fault... It's all my fault... I can't... I don't know... I don't know how to fix this... I'm sorry...." She coughed. She'd been choking on her tears. Too fucking dramatic of her. Why did she keep doing this...

"I know... I know that you both... You'd both be a lot better off if I'd never been here... If I wasn't here now... I'm sorry... It's all my fault.... I know no one wants me around anyways... I'm sorry, I kept shoving myself into your life... I nearly killed one of the only friends I have... I should be the one that nearly died... I should be dead... No one would've saved me... I don't deserve it... Shit, I'm fucking on myself again. Where the hell do I get off being so selfish?"[/b] She wiped at her eyes, but it didn't help anything.

"I fucking love you... I'm so selfish... I keep breaking every fucking thing I touch... I'm sorry... I love you... I shouldn't be telling you this right now... God, I'm such an idiot.... I don't deserve to be here with you.... with anyone... deserve... here... love you.... sorry... fault..." Everything coming out of her now was just snippets of phrases. She couldn't take talking anymore. The tears flowed faster and harder than ever, and she fell forward. She couldn't stop shaking. The sobs wouldn't stop. What the hell else could she do? She needed to do something... To show she wasn't just this huge fuck-up... Except that's all she was.

this is you thinking
"this is you talking"
"this is someone else speaking"
[/size][/blockquote] [/blockquote]
[/justify]

YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE I'M ALREADY TORN

t a g g e d TUESDAY
WORDS noooo clueee
s t a t u s complete!
NOTES I cried writing this. A lot. x-x
o u t f i t click please!
MUSIC Back to the Flyleaf playlist.
c r e d i t MELLY ! @ NEVER RAINS

[/left]

[TUESDAY DAVENPORT]

Tuesday tossed the broken piece of railing to himself, resisting the urge to chuck it into the crowd and watch it crush someone’s and see how November felt then. See if she was so big on her statistics now when there was a real, live, actual dead person in the room. Well, not live, if they were dead. But still. She wouldn’t be big on her statistics then, would she? No, she would not.

Wait, wait, what? No. No, of course he didn’t want to kill anybody with this piece of railing. What…where had that even come from? God, was he going to become one of those Jack Nicholson guys who thought they were all nice and normal but randomly turned into serial killers one day? Oh God, he didn’t want to be a serial killer. Blood was so gross.

"I'm so sorry. I'm such a fucking dumbass. I just... I didn't think you would blame yourself... If I... If I hadn't... Shown my stupid face... This wouldn't have happened... I'm sorry... So... So sorry... I tore you apart... It's all my fault... It's all my fault... I can't... I don't know... I don't know how to fix this... I'm sorry...."

But still.

Tuesday twisted the piece of railing between his hands, wishing he could snap it in two just to have some way to take out the intense annoyance he’d felt with every single person he’d talked to since the…thingie. Right, right, right, she woke up next to him. Obviously the Thursday guru right here. “Oh, right, yeah, I forgot. The world revolves around you.” He rolled his eyes again. “How is it your fault? Where are you even getting that? You didn’t shove him away for no fucking reason except…well…” He wasn’t going to go into it. The doctors, the school guidance counselor…he was done narrating his life to people who judged him and didn’t give a shit.

"I know... I know that you both... You'd both be a lot better off if I'd never been here... If I wasn't here now... I'm sorry... It's all my fault.... I know no one wants me around anyways... I'm sorry, I kept shoving myself into your life... I nearly killed one of the only friends I have... I should be the one that nearly died... I should be dead... No one would've saved me... I don't deserve it... Shit, I'm fucking on myself again. Where the hell do I get off being so selfish?

Could she shut up? Could she seriously just go and…she was crying.

Shit, shit, shit, she was crying. She was crying and blabbering and oh God, Tuesday was totally overreacting, wasn’t he? She’d really only been trying to help with that whole statistics thing, hadn’t she? He felt his rage dissipating into humiliation. Shit, he totally hadn’t needed to blow up at her at all. God, she probably thought he was a dick now. Tuesday felt as if he’d just woken up from a dream. Tuesday Davenport never lost control like that. The piece of railing dropped to the floor.

"I fucking love you... I'm so selfish... I keep breaking every fucking thing I touch... I'm sorry... I love you... I shouldn't be telling you this right now... God, I'm such an idiot.... I don't deserve to be here with you.... with anyone... deserve... here... love you.... sorry... fault..."

Tuesday’s hostile expression was instantly replaced with one of concern. “Hey, look, I’m sorry,” he said in a lame almost-whisper, reaching out to grasp her arm. “I didn’t mean…I’ve just been so…with everything that’s…” He found himself as speechless as she seemed. Had she just said she loved him? Like, Dove Chocolate commercials, Nicholas Sparks, Disney princess, weird teenagers wearing beanie hats on the playground at midnight love? Tuesday felt his heart leaping in his chest, thudding against his ribcage as if longing to burst free.

“I…I love you…too,” he admitted, blushing a shade of deep scarlet, pretty sure he was still dreaming, because real life was never this confusing. He tapped his index finger against the bleacher next to him. “Sit down?”

728 WORDS | COMPLETE | TAGS: NOVEMBER | OUTFIT
LYRICS BY ALL TIME LOW | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
NOW GIVE THEM A NICE NOTE HERE: Meep that was agonizing to write.

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