Post by NOAH JAYCE ROSLAND on Mar 31, 2013 21:49:40 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/ngx4hu.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 220px 220px 0px 0px; border: 0px solid #414141;] noah jayce rosland twenty-four | 2009 | male | gender | dave franco "fuck, off, i don't want to tell my story, it's none of your business," He moved forward for at least three steps before finally stopping in place for a few seconds, shaking his head, and then turning around. "Look i'm sorry... i didn't mean to be like that, it's just, knowing that i'm dead is something i'm not sure i'll ever be able to fully comprehend, or even really want to understand. It's just so fucking hard," His eyes closed as he swallowed down the tears that he could feel coming up. "Four years, it's been just under four years since i died. I've had these scars all over my body for those four years and every time i find myself looking at them i'm reminded of everything that happened before i died. For the first two years it was all really blurry, fuzzy, and i couldn't completely understand it all. But then it all started to make sense and i was able to see it so clearly. It was after then that i started looking for her again, to see what she was doing because i knew she was still alive. It was also then that, for me, everything became worse. Really, four years isn't a long time. Not anymore. Even when i was alive the years started to feel like they were getting shorter and like i was aging faster, it just wasn't something i was fully aware of then. I hated it because the only other thing that was running slowly in my life was the memories of when i died. The first thing i remembered was the feeling of my rib cage breaking and crushing into my lounges. When i remembered that i stopped trying for a while. It was strange how it all worked randomly. I'd remember bits and pieces of the figures and face that attacked me. Right away i realized that it was random. I realized the only thing that made them pick on me was the fact that i was down on one knee, about to ask Helaina to marry me. It was just a vulnerable state that the attackers took me for. That's probably why i hate them the most, that's probably why i couldn't trust another random living soul. Well, that's not completely true. I might be able to trust some people, girls mostly have done me no wrong, until i found out what Helaina was up to now. Those dark, looming figures of men, now those are the ones i don't trust. If a person was to creep up on me, i don't think i'd be able to handle it. Surprises were never my thing, but now... now i think it'd end up with me attacking another spirit. In my travels of the afterlife, a lot of it began with following Helaina around, seeing what she was doing and how she was doing. The first six months looked like hell, she was hidden a lot, mostly because of the way her face was. Our attackers had hurt the both of us, but only me enough to die. By the time paramedics got there, i'd like to assume i was already gone, and that when they put our bodies together she watched me. But she healed, and was able to allow herself to go out more. She went to therapy for two years. I felt so awkward sitting in the corner of her session. I was only there for the first two or three, mostly to help myself figure everything out. But after that i refused to go into that room with her. For me, it didn't take long to notice that there was a guy in the waiting room of the therapist's office that had taken an interest in her. From the moment he saw her his eyes dilated, and i knew he was instantly infatuated by her. Then he had to talk to her as they both waited. It was a slow, gradual thing, but i knew that she was starting to feel something towards him as well. I hated it. I hated every second of it, but i needed to know what was going on. I watch them as they became intimate. I watched her forget about me. Well, that's not completely true. She'd give flowers to my grave on the day i died, and in the first two years he'd do so on my birthday. But I knew she was slowly forgetting about me. Now, i try not to watch them, but i've made such a habit out of it that i can't help it. I wish i would've lived too. I wish i could've just held on like she was able to. Maybe we'd still be together, married by now, and that kid she's carrying with her right now, that kid would be mine. I'm not bitter, okay? I just... i just hate leaving something i knew so well. Honestly, i'd almost like the idea of a pit of black, nothingness, than having to witness everyone i used to know continuing on their lives without me, seeing her move on without me." brandynnleigh | nineteen | 8 years | west canada |