Frerard : Never Let Them Take The Light Behind Your Eyes

Chapter 1- A Line Without A Hook

Bleep.

Bleep.

Bleep.

Ugh. My alarm beeps continuously in a worn out tone. The aim is to get me out of bed. Boy, it can try! But it wont succeed. I stretch out my arm closest to the clock and investigate with my hand trying to find the 'off' switch. Where is it for god sake?

A-ha! I chuckle to myself. Found it. A small black button on the right side of the digital tick machine. I press down, with the little energy I possess in the morning- and the annoying noise is silenced.

Though the silence is soon overcome by the harsh sound of footsteps towards my door. I slowly open my eyes slightly and the flicker like an old TV. Suddenly, my door swings on its hinges and a dirty beam off light strikes me down. I turn over, squinting from it, trying to nuzzle my face into my black and white bed spread, grasping and groaning.

The creaks in the floor boards awaken, as the silhouette tread into my room.

"Get up boy!" The darkness yells and shakes my shoulders violently. My dad. He shook me again, this time harder! arg! Can't he just leave me alone for once? I hate my dad. Yeah, I know, how typical of me to talk about him that way, i'm sorry- but he's one hell of a bastard. I wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it. I moan and wriggle away from his unnerving grip and tumble out of the other side of my bed. My dad rises on his heels, just stating the he's one of the 'pack' like an animal in the kingdom, a bird beefing up it's chesty feathers. Displeased, he looks upon me as if I don't belong in his fucking house, which I kind of agree with. I don't belong here- and I sure as hell don't want to be here! My dad averts his unpredictable eyes away and slams the door behind him as he leaves my now dark room. I struggle to my feet, gripping on to my bedside table to help me up. I walk over to the door and turn on my light that announces all of the shadows and whites. Gently I rub my drooping eyes and a small yawn escapes as I head to the bathroom.

I reach my 'on-suite' if you like, which has a modern edge, with white tiled walls and a white tilled floor. To my right is the bath/shower, it's all connected like it is in France y'know? Behind me is the toilet, and in-front is the sink. Above that lies a large square mirror that I'm automatically gazing into, staring into the eyes of my reflection. "i'm so not cool" I say out loud, and cup my hands under the running water. Slashing to refresh my face, the water doesn't only 'wash' my face, but the floor too! I was going to take a shower- but now I can't be bothered. I take off my comic style pajamas and drop them onto the cold floor then i'm running the water again. I quickly wash my self round with a flannel and bar of soap that, let's be honest, isn't mine and smells like my Nan- lavender and apple. So i try spraying ton after ton of Linxs deodorant to mask the nasty ass scent of baby whips and retirement homes. I do not want to be smelly for school. (that's just a general life rule) Or smell, if that's you thing, but it certainly isn't mine!

I go back into my bedroom, my walls are deep red- but funny enough you can barely see the deep red because my walls are covered in band posters; mostly form the Kerrang magazine- which I try to buy as often as i can... I don't get any money given to me, it's really a case if I find some money then I will try to save it up.

There's a double bed in the middle of my room, with white and black, spotty covers and pillows, I picked them out before my mom died...

Now i live with my dad. It's not the same, but why would it be? He's always been sour, so i don't know what i was expecting... I go over to my wardrobe which is jam packed with shit mostly! I start to question whether there are actually any clothes in here? I pull out a pair of baggy grey denim jeans, with rips in the knees and cotton threads a-stray every where (they ain't hip' jeans if you ain't got rips!), I then take out an old misfits T-shirt, a grubby black hoodie and skeleton gloves. Reaching down into the draws below, unveiling my boxers, belts and socks, I grab a pair of black boxers and grey-ish socks. Here I examine all that I have dragged out, and then start to get dressed. Once I am fully clothed, I creep downstairs trying not to make a sound, Quite honestly, I really don't want another encounter with my dad, that just ends in more 'waste of time' arguments... My eyes glaze over the area in my sights and I keep walking, quietly, quickly. When I reach the kitchen, I see a coffee that has already been made. It looks like it's waiting for me? Hmm, it's probably my dads, I second guess. But if i'm sneaky... Ah, screw it! I don't give a shit what he thinks, It's mine now! I grab the coffee that's conveniently in a take away cup! Mom bought him it for Christmas two years back. I move like a viper towards the door, snatching my bag from the radiator and my black converse from the porch. I close the door behind me. 'phew', what a fucking relief to be out of that hell hole! the silence freaking wigs me out sometimes. I sit down on the porch steps and force on my shoes (they're probably too small by now, but I know a new pair is out of the question! -Like my dad would cough up for that!) tying the lace, I toss my bag over my shoulder and take my luke warm coffee from the floor. Hmm, I love coffee, possibly a little too much! I cautiously press my lips down onto the slit at the top of the cup and take a small sip. Hmm!! It's so tasty! I take another sip, then start walking to the bus stop.