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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2013 23:22:15 GMT -5
Peter never would've remembered this part of the park if he hadn't stumbled across it. Hardly anyone was here in this deeply shaded area of the park. At first, the place didn't spark any memories until he just stood there for a few moments. His parents sitting on the picnic blanket talking, while he just ran around being happy.
Shrugging his shoulder and closing his eyes, he sighed as he stood there. Get out of the past, get out of the past. Constant words like that were going through his head. Looking at the book he held in his hand, he brought it closer to where he could see it. It was an old thing, and to be honest it wasn't just a simple book. It was really a photo album.
Lowering it, he went over to a tree and sat down. Opening it, his half gaze landed on the first picture. It showed his father and mother. The picture was black and white for some reason, it wasn't that old. But Peter remembered it was his grandparents who took it, so that explained the no color to it. Turning the page, he found a colored photo of him and his mother.
Her hair was dark brown and she had a smile on her face with her eyes closed. She wore a navy blue dress that went past her knees and she was holding him. Peter was laughing and seemed to be trying to get on her shoulders. He remembered how he thought as a child that if he could get on his parents shoulders that he could see father in front of him then on the ground. Not a bad theory for a child.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 5:57:44 GMT -5
An attentive visitor, body rigid in terror, slinked through the concealed oasis hoping not to draw unwanted attention to one of the few places of tranquility Preston could obtain in this disordered world. Although the tormented human had found solace with his supernatural roommate, he was still emotionally fragile and at times required utter solitude to recover from these guilt ridden feelings. Preston had not rested in six days and it showed. With darkened bags underneath his lackluster blue irises which seemed equally affected by his turmoil. Normally extravagant cerulean, the dull eyes dashed cautiously at their surroundings like polluted bodies of water. His stalking nightmares were becoming more merciless each day dragging him into the deeper contours of his burdened memories. This faces of all those he cared for plagued his psyche, to the point the medication could not keep them at bay.
Trudging defeated, Preston tumbled underneath a towering tree among many littering this soothing refuge. His broken wrist had healed completely however a twinge of discomfort would follow after long sessions with his guitar which greatly concerned his bandmates to the point they considered disbanding. Preston could not allow such a pivotal activity in his life fade away like that so in an effort to deter such thought he had scrawled multiple amounts of songs, an assortment of original and modified cover tracks. Now, Preston was absolutely burned out mentally and physically as old wounds crept upon him like devils in the dark.
Rubbing his temples achingly, he was finally having a solitary moment before the memories assaulted him, unforgiving. Preston rummaged through his satchel pulling out a medicinal tube with his pills that were slowly loosing their luster. Popping the top off he peered into the bottle only to find something awful: one pill. Throwing his head back overcome with stress, Preston dropped his head between his legs. Then, a single droplet tumbled from his irises and he attempted to catch it before it tumbled from his visage but to no avail. A small muffled whimpered escape as he placed his hand over his face, hiding the shame. He continued to sit there, alone and haunted by his remorseless recollections.
Mother, father, Eva... He said to himself, pained with each name uttered.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 10:17:24 GMT -5
Despite being in the park, Peter hadn't expected anyone to come here. But the sound of something sitting down against the other side of the tree wasn't his imagination. Holding the photo album closed with his spot saved by having his finger inside it. He rose to his feet and looked around the other side.
It was another person alright. But...something felt off. True, the main was clearly having some sort of troubles with something.
"Sir....are you alright?" Peter asked as he stood there, not getting closer just yet.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 21:13:20 GMT -5
A mild voice jerked the tortured soul from his mental prison causing a quick gasp and a clear of his throat before dashing his eyes fearfully for the individual responsible. Within the wooded brush he spotted a young male staring at Preston with a glazed gape, almost as if the stranger was unsure of what was occurring. Understandable since he was a grown man in the middle of the park crying silently to himself and unable to control this merciless visions. Preston scrambled to his feet, wiping away the sinful droplets tumbling down like rainwater however he needed to be strong in the presence of others; how was he to be a caring selfless being if he was feeling sorry for himself.
“Y-Yes, I’m fine.” He huffed, a famous half grin presented before he rummaged with his satchel bag nervously, unaware of what exactly to do at this point. Should he leave? Would it be safe to stay? Maybe he was like that man from Vixen’s Keep since Preston could no longer view young teens the same after that intense incident. The world was falling apart by the seams and all Preston could do was stand away idly, hoping that death would not follow.
“I apologize if I intruded, I was not aware others knew of this place.”
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 21:16:45 GMT -5
"No you aren't intruding. It's a public place to be." Peter said. "It is a shame not many do know of this place but, it's also nice that they don't."
Something seemed wrong with the man. Not in a bad away but a sad way. The photo album stayed by his side as he stood there. He wouldn't pry the question. Instead, he held out his other hand to Preston.
"I'm Peter Cornwall. But I prefer to be called Peter." Peter said as he held his hand there.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 22:41:27 GMT -5
Preston stood cautiously although outstretched a tranquil hand in response to this hospitable stranger, not wanting to portray himself as rude or conceited. It was difficult nonetheless to trust those lurking in the darkened brushes of the wood young or not. The boy seemed normal enough to the human. What are you babbling about Preston, he is definitely just a boy... if he wished you harm he would do so already. Would he? Doubt flooded his psyche and for a moment as their greeted hands clasped Preston shivered in paranoia. “P-Preston Creed, and please just Preston for me.” He paused, clearing his throat nervously. “Pleasure.”
Preston had noticed the leather bound book nestled at Peter’s side as he approached but carefully deterred his curious azure irises to the young male face. “I haven’t been in this place for quite some time. Finally found the time to just relax for a moment. How about you, enjoying a good read I suppose?” Preston begged whatever higher power that he was not intruding on Peter’s personal life but he could not think of anything else.
“I-I’m sorry, never mind I am just distracted that’s all.” Even in this seemingly serene moment between them, the haunting memories clawed at his brain like rabid crows scratching through his skull. “Forget I said anything Peter. I, I think I should leave...” His body began to tremor and his legs almost crumbled beneath them as stress enveloped him like a poison.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 22, 2013 22:52:05 GMT -5
After shaking hands, Peter took his back and nodded his head. Well, Preston seemed to be a bit better now. At least he seemed a bit calmer.
"I haven't been here in years, never saw a reason to for some reason." Peter answered, he raised the album up and looked at the cover. "Oh this. It's just a photo album, a window to a dead and lost past."
And it seemed that what ever was troubling Preston came back. The man looked ready to fall apart in Peter's opinion. blinking a few times, Peter could only stare in silence. He cocked his head a bit but he quickly raised a hand to put over his right eye as it closed. Blasted thing hurt for some reason. Either something got in his eye or it was just being weird, either way, the sensation went away. Lowering his hand and returning his half gaze to the man.
"No, it's okay Preston. You can stay, it's nice to have someone to talk to." Peter said. "Perhaps it be best if we both sit down and talk. That okay with you?"
Peter wasn't sure if this was wise, but he had to try something. Sitting down on his knees, he waited for Preston with a kind smile. Showing him that if needed, Preston could take his time in sitting down or he could remain standing.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 0:00:21 GMT -5
Before Preston could retreat, Peter addressed him and asked him to sit near him for a quaint discussion. “O-Okay.” Preston wavered skittishly, attempting to keep his immeasurable pain under control so not to crumble like an ancient stone wall in front of this innocent guest. Preston didn’t need to embarrass himself further he had already been discovered weeping in the woods alone; there was nothing sadder than that. He stepped slowly near Peter before descending to the floor carefully in an effort to keep himself composed. Sitting, he turned to his kind company, a weak gentle smile spreading slowly. “Reminiscing?” Preston questioned, recalling his own innocent life long ago; it seemed almost forever ago. Before he had a chance to unlock the gentle times of his existence, the overbearing voice of his grandfather crept into his mind, You are my chosen Preston.
Preston could, even now, not believe that the patriarch of his family was dead; his memory continued to exist within this young man’s fragile mind, never releasing him from this tormenting prison. To this day Preston still did not understand what exactly the senior Creed member meant however Preston did not wait to discover what. Never again. Never again. He uttered to himself, begging the God above that he would never look upon a single member of his family ever again... he couldn’t take it, he wouldn’t.
As Preston pondered fearfully to himself, he recalled the strange movement Peter had made in the direction of his iris which seemed more peculiar than the other but the blue-eyed man couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. In an effort to forget, the fragile human continued to attempt at small talk. “Have you lived here long Peter? You obviously know of this place since you mentioned it.”
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 0:07:26 GMT -5
"I guess you could put it like that." Peter said as he put the photo album on the ground in between them. "Yeah, I grew up in this place. My parents used to come here and have picnics, taking me along. I'll show you."
Peter opened the photo album and turned a few pages. Only to stop and point to a colored picture. It had all three of them there. Peter was the small child running around a rather tall man, his father. His mother was laughing as she was sitting on the red and white checkered picnic blanket.
"My parents loved this place. They claimed they met here but I'm not sure if it was true or not." Peter added, he tried to see it with his right eye but he knew it was pointless.
The dull emerald eye seemed duller at the moment. He was trying to see through it but it would do no good. Peter laughed weakly as he kept his gaze on the picture.
"I...I remember chasing my father around here. He thought he could hide behind one of the trees but...the chain on his pocket watch gave him away." Peter said as he scratched the back of his neck. "Now that I think about it, he might've allowed the chain to show so I could catch him. He was always doing stuff like that. If you want you can turn the pages and look around, it's okay."
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 12:51:09 GMT -5
The picturesque memories adorning the pages was comforting but equally sinister in nature on Preston. Smiling faces of long lost kin pained him for it allowed the memories of the past to encroach deeper on his delicate psyche; as he looked at the charming photos a mild half-grin presented itself on Preston’s visage and his azure eyes twinkled for a moment as he recalled his own precious memories. He did not carry any pictures of his parents for they were all confiscated by his family and disposed of properly; their memory was carried only in his mind so the burden was strong on him. He missed his precious mother’s energetic smile and his father’s stark gaze which put the young boy at ease whenever he was afraid. However, the peace faded quickly as the violent crash replayed mercilessly in his brain.
“Your mother is very beautiful, she reminds me of my own. Same smile and everything.” It was like listening to a personal recording as Peter reminisced of his peaceful living, a kindred connection transpiring between the two young males. When Peter offered the album to him, Preston was almost shocked at how open this young man was with him even though it hadn’t even been a few minutes since they had met. He placed a delicate hand onto the corner and flipped the page, revealing more happy faces. “How are they now, if you don’t mind me asking...? Do they still live here in New Orlands?” Preston’s voice trembled but he hid the anxiety with a smile.
The thought of home made Preston homesick; he didn’t miss the luscious acres of land or the multitudes of riches that were carried within the walls of the Creed mansion it was peace and tranquility of his only family that cared for him and truly loved one another... and they died for their ideals and for Preston.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 13:06:43 GMT -5
Peter was glad that Preston seemed better now. Hearing Preston's words about his mother, Peter's gaze fell to the picture. She was wasn't she? There was a weak smile on his face but...it was quickly stripped away. Hearing Preston's question, sent Peter into a nervous state. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"Um...well....they're....they're...." Peter started, trying to think on how to word it. "Well....."
Peter wasn't sure about telling Preston. Wouldn't the knowledge just burden the poor man? Wouldn't it just trouble him?
"They're....they're still in...New Orleans in.....in a way..." Peter continued, Peter glanced down at the ground.
Peter had forgotten what else was in the photo album besides happy memories. If Preston turned the page a few more times, he would see a newspaper clipping. Speaking about the car accident that Peter's family was in. Peter had forgotten that he stuff that part of the newspaper at the time into the album. He just couldn't fully convince himself it was an accident.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 21:34:07 GMT -5
The lonely human was picking up signals of discomfort as Peter referred to his kin despairingly followed by a glazed dejected stare on the pleasant photo album nestled between them. Preston slipped his finger gently beneath the page, as if sensing he would discover the answer if he continued. As he did so, his dulled azure irises captured a curious newspaper clipping crumpled over time in memoriam. Worded at the top in ominous bold letters was: Car Crash Kills Two, Only Child Survives Preston sat in awe, his mouth almost agape from the rabid emotions surging through his fragile physique, immediately haunted by a panic attack lurching within his belly; Preston drew back and released a loud hack and distanced the space between them within seconds, retreating behind the tree he had been graciously leaning on not moments ago. The taste of vomit trickled downward before tumbling to the ground, his entire meal splattered on the grassy plains of the park. He released another pained cough before throwing his head back to an attempt to keep himself composed. Damn it Preston! He snapped angrily to himself, wiping the remnants onto a fellow rag inside his satchel. With a condition such as this, you needed to be prepared for everything. “I-I’m sorry Peter... I-I can explain this it’s not you I’m just pathetic. I sincerely apologize for this Peter, please I-I am sorry!” He rambled, eyes watered by the intense stress almost suffocating him. Preston felt like a child again, begging to be spared by his Uncle’s violent hand throughout his demented childhood. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 21:45:08 GMT -5
Peter was startled by Preston's sudden motion. Looking at the album, he saw what Preston found. How could he forget that was in there?!! Peter got up and looked over to Preston. Did he do some thing to the poor man?
"It's okay Preston. I forgot that was in there, I'm sorry I should've remembered that was in there." Peter said. "It's not your fault, you weren't there."
Peter went silent. What was he to do? He didn't have an idea on how to help Preston. Running his fingers though his hair, he stood there thinking.
"You're not pathetic, you're nowhere near it." Peter said, trying to help the man. "Perhaps I should get you to the hospital, you don't look so good."
It was the only thing he could think of to do. He picked the album up and closed it. He then went back over to Preston and held a hand out to him. He had to do something didn't he? It was only right to try and help him. They were getting along and Peter felt like he was starting to get a friend.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 22:18:27 GMT -5
“No, I am. Look at me Peter...” He rubbed his aching temples before scrambling with his loose belonging and presenting the familiar empty container which housed his missing pills. “I am such a fuckin’ wreck I can’t even walk outside without this!” It had been a long time since outer strength faltered for he had not raised his voice since... since when? The thought stunned him to the core for he could not recall a single moment when he released his bottled emotions even in the presence of his psychologist, Dr. Kadic. He threw the container furiously before tumbling to his knees from exhaustion, huffing and puffing as the sinister recollections mocked him. His mother cradling him within the icy storm, protecting him from nature’s merciless hands. His dearest fiance’s eyes twinkling before they were shattered by overbearing car lights.
“I’m a fucking wreck...” He whimpered, dropping his head between his legs before shielding his pained expression with a trembling hand. His heart was palpating swiftly in his chest and his cranium throbbed from the sudden intensity he had displayed. There was an awkward silence between both orphans before Preston opened his mouth hesitantly. It was strange how much he had opened up to this stranger; he had not shared this much crazed emotions even with his roommate, Vergil. Preston was loosing control of himself... he could feel himself falling slowly. He was on the very edge of falling back into that hell he had been in.
“Your story just... reminded me of my own.” He muttered softly, almost regretting his decision to open his mouth.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2013 22:28:21 GMT -5
Peter went silent as Preston spoke. Raising his voice and throwing the pill bottle away as if it was nothing. It really was his fault that Preston was in this stare. If he had just remembered the clipping of the newspaper being in there...then...then he wouldn't have showed it. Well, he would at least stop Preston from seeing it.
"You're still alive...aren't you? Despite what you bear, the pain. You're still here, alive." Peter said as he bent down. "I mean....I don't know what happened to you exactly but....we might have a similar case. However, they're not entirely the same."
He had hoped that Preston would've looked up at this point. If he had, he would see Peter pointing to his right eye. The color was duller than the left emerald eye.
"I'm actually half blind. That's why....this eye is duller than my left." Peter explained. "I was a kid when that crash happened and trust me....I was just dead little shell of who I used to be. But....I had a friend. A friend who dragged me out of my misery and pretty much helped me regain my old self in a way."
He wasn't sure if any of this was helping Preston, Peter wasn't a psychologist or anything. But he knew the same pain even if their cases weren't the same exactly. Peter then shrugged as he sat there.
"If it wasn't for my friend, I wouldn't be here really. I bet I would've just wasted away in my little corner. Plus....he helped me to see with half vision but make it look like to others on first meeting that I wasn't half blind." Peter said. "I know half blindness is really nothing compared to what you went through. But...I can at least try to help you out."
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