8. Lonely Days (part I)

1.2K 115 7
                                    

Saturday passed excruciatingly slowly. Damien hadn't slept well. He couldn't stop replaying his own words over and over again in his mind. What the hell had he been thinking?

But that was just it. He hadn't been thinking. He was so consumed by his frustration at his own feelings for Oliver that he lashed out, and now here he was. Alone. He had spent the day feeling equal parts ashamed and annoyed. Annoyed that he couldn't seem to apologize, despite the fact he was sorry and ashamed that he had opened his mouth in the first place. Every time Damien picked up his phone to text an apology to Carrie it always rang hollow. It hardly felt like enough to simply say he was sorry, but he wasn't sure how to show it either.

It didn't help that he had nearly run into Oliver coming down the stairs for lunch, (as if his life wasn't uncomfortable enough). Damien had stared at him, mouth agape, as he tried in vain to find the words to apologize. Oliver had rolled his eyes, and pushed past him. Why is this so bloody hard? He wondered. It wasn't as if he hadn't apologized before. Only if he was honest he wasn't sure he ever had. Not really anyway. Sure he had given the odd 'sorry' as a child, though in that child 'I didn't do anything wrong but you're making me apologize' way that was just sincere enough to get him out of trouble but wasn't ever a real apology. Certainly not the sort of apology that the current situation called for.

Damien eyed the clock on his bedside table, 3 am. Sunday isn't looking much better, he thought. He supposed it was good that he wasn't expected to go to class for another day, he couldn't imagine he would be getting to sleep any time soon.

The world around him was deathly quiet, the only sounds that could be heard were the occasional snores from some of his fellow classmates, and the faint hum of a radiator. He sighed.

Even Adam had been uncharacteristically silent. He hadn't gotten a message all weekend, it was the longest silence he had experienced since they'd begun talking. He was beginning to feel as though perhaps he had somehow offended him too.

He didn't want to push. The last thing he needed was to alienate Adam too. He was the last friend he had and he could not afford to loose this, he reminded himself.

By four thirty, Damien had given up attempting to sleep as a bad job.

He groaned, extricating himself from his bed with some amount of effort, and made his way out into the forest for a walk around the lake. It will be good to get a bit of exercise, he thought. At the very least, he could get himself out of the Castle for a little while. Changing out of his pajama's and into his weekend clothes, and slipping on his trainers Damien made his way across the dormitory, quietly as he could. The weekend curfew technically ended at five, but he figured that by the time he managed to sneak out of the dorm and down the stairs to the outside it would be five easily. So long as he took his time.

The Castle was different this time of day, he noted. It looked much bigger and far more intimidating when it wasn't so full of students clambering to get to their next class. There was a hint of sunrise coming up over the mountains, just peaking through the high windows that dotted the staircase every few feet.

There were only a few scattered lights kept on during the nighttime, mostly emergency lights on the staircase, and a few scattered wall sconces, that were dimmed in the evenings. For the most part, there were large swaths of the Castle that remained entirely in darkness. The monitors had flashlights, as did the teachers, and anybody else usually just used their phones to get around. Damien had always rather liked the darkness though, and he'd taught himself to move around it with little aid.

A few minutes later, admittedly faster than he had anticipated, Damien reached the bottom of the steps; stretching his arms above his head, he yawned, feeling surprisingly tired, and made his way towards the large oak double doors, and snuck out of the Castle and made his way across the grass towards the edge of the forest. He supposed forest wasn't the most apt word for it, though that had always been what it was called. It was more a large assortment of densely packed tree's that sat near the school. The actual Westlake forest, was far deeper, on the other side of the lake, and eventually, gave way many miles from there, to the Adirondack Mountains.

Looking out at the lake, Damien took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the crisp air. He had never felt so frustrated and exhausted in equal measure and for the life of him he didn't know what to do. He was aimless, adrift on an endless sea of tumultuous thoughts.

He found a tree near the lake, not quite his usual spot but close enough, and dropped down against it, letting himself slide against the tree until he was on the ground. His shirt rode up and the bark of the tree scratched his back, but he didn't care. Staring out at the lake, Damien watched the murky waters, lapping at the edge of the shore as the wind whipped through the trees. It was silent, and peaceful, a great contrast to his own mind, it was almost enough to calm him. Just a few more months is all you have to endure, a voice in his head reminded him. He wasn't sure he could say it was entirely his own yet it was comforting all the same. Mostly

 

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
the Secret Life of Damien CarmichaelWhere stories live. Discover now