Dulcet [H.S]

01𓆉 say hey

Dulcet trailer #2 ^

☼

MAY 29TH

Kauai, Hawaii

A humid high of 88° and a low of 72°

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The cops.

The last thing I remember is blue and red flashing lights, alternating in taunt. Neon blares flickering in my bloodshot red eyes, wholly headache-inducing. Back and forth, seemingly into loathsome, pestering eternity. 

I was certain I could see purple, a tired fixation on the two drove me mad. The loud bellowing noise wouldn't let down, it added to the wonderland of horror. I'd tumbled down a spiraling hole of alternating neon colors... A never-ending reminder of my foes, trials, and tribulations dead-center.

How did we get here? Tell me, I'd like to know.

Then the realization of my tempered actions had kicked in, only as those cold handcuffs were strained against my wrists. Restricting not only my body but my future as I knew it. Then it was too late to plead my case, I looked guilty all quiet. Well, I was guilty but that's beside the point. I was a mess of mind-fucking shock, paralyzed in my own rocked body. Those two uniformed buffoons practically had to yank me into the police car.

I let myself fixate on my mistakes as they pulled me away, glossy glass eyes. Porcelain waiting to be shattered by an unsuspecting victim. My wallow was apparent, ardently overshadowed by a multitude of thunder emotions. One's I couldn't begin to pick apart. As my demons roared in front of me, selling that fact I'd fucked my life over. 

That was the loathsome turning point, a deep-rooted fork in the road.

In shock in the back of those seats, with two male authoritative voices muttering nonsense. Probing for the questions they didn't want the answers to. I didn't want the answers either, so they remain blocked out. My ears toned most of it out, sealing my lips closed in an effort to keep the top on my blabbering mouth.

'You have the right to remain silent.'

I was always a talker, wasn't I? Not anymore, I've come to learn talking only gets you into deeper shit. Running your mouth ends up in stitches. 

I'd come to realize that much more sooner than later... Firsthand.

And then the shitty ultimatum. Go to prison and get my ass beat for my mouth, or spend the summer on the sticky beach. In ninety-degree weather, babysitting mother nature and any idiot that didn't pay attention to the tide. Picking up trash assholes decide to leave on the sandy dunes, and worst of all swim in the 'oh-so-perfect waters.