Behind These Eyes

Life isn't what we expect, and sometimes. It's shorter than you think...


1. Messed up Like Me

 The rain wasn't pouring down, but the occasional drop that landed on my face felt heavy. Even with my hood up, my hair was still getting wet. But I didn't care. It's not like I could die from getting wet in the rain. My feet were moving up and down, pedalling on my bike. While my legs elevated my body from the wet seat. Rain droplets slept in my brown hair. Not daring to move, encase I would do what I just did. I whipped my head to the side, ridding some of the rain. But not as much as I hoped. Who doesn't enjoy getting caught in the rain on occasion? I could spend the rest of my life in the rain on my bike. With nothing, just left with my thoughts.


I don't think about anything you would think I would, considering I'm nineteen. Cause I'm that old, and I'm a boy, you'd probably think that I think about sex, drugs and what have you. But I don't particularly act my age, that's what I think anyway. I think about, actually, I can't really remember what I think about. Maybe that is what I think about, trying to work out what I do think about.


My bike skidded in the drenched rain to a halt, outside my house. The two story brick building wasn't the most welcoming sight in the world, a little discouraging actually. I locked my bike to the fence shaded by a bunch of fir trees, and banged on the front door heavily. The white paint on the door didn't last long, it was peeling back to it's ivy green. The rain trickled down my back, making me both jump and shiver. I attacked the door, wanting to get in. Even I have to take a break from the rain once in a while. The door swung open, finally. And it was my Mum, looking annoyed or something of that nature. It could be anything that might have annoyed her, guess I’ll find out.


“Didn't I tell you to come back home if it started raining!?” she asked rhetorically. But still, I wasn't quite sure if I had to answer. She gave me an evil glare, and I didn't like it one bit. “I did didn't I?” making my point. That was true, if it wasn't rain like this I would of rode around town on my bike all day. Maybe even of gone over the fields, and sat under a tree. I drew in my sketch pad. Normally I would always have my sketch pad, pencils and bag with me. But predicting that the weather was going to be like this, I knew I wouldn't be out for more than an hour.


“Also, I told you to take your keys. So I wouldn't have to open the door for you.” What is she my biographer? Or was she just trying to pick a fight? That wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. “Alright I forgot my key, sorry.” I squeeze through the door, and made my way upstairs. Not bothering to make conversation, nothing we talk about anyway. I haven't had a real conversation with her since she split up with my Dad cause she was cheating a year ago. She took all the money, he was forced to live with his single friend in a flat 15 miles away. And obviously, cause it was a flat, and there wasn't any spare rooms. I wasn't allowed to stay with my Dad, so I have to stay here with my Mum and her recently gotten serious boyfriend. At least I get to visit him for a weekend every month, but that's barely enough. I hate that fact that I'm made of her genetics.


I slammed the door behind me, and leaned against it. I looked at my room, and how it reflects me. It's messed up, just like my mind. A bed, a desk, another desk and countless of pictures I've drawn over the years all over my walls. One of my desks had my laptop, for my writing. I write and draw, I illustrate my work, no point paying someone else to do it if I know what I want. And as for my work, it's normally short stories and stuff like that, but recently I have started my début novel. Also on the desk was an uncounted amount of pencils, pens and stuff like that.


On my other desk, is my pride and joy, my pet bearded dragon, Arther. He scratched at his glass cage, wanting to get out. And have a walk about the room that he was a resident of. I don't care that my Mum hates him out of his cage, he's my pet, so it's my decision what I allow him to do. I walked over to him, and opened the top of his cage. He immediately scampered up my arm when I outstretched it into the cage. Even through my black hoodie, his claws lightly slung onto my arm. “Hello Arther,” I talked to him as if he was a person, I don't think less of him because he's a lizard, and not a Human. I think this for all animals, they have the same rights as us Humans. Like all us Humans, none of us deserve less than any other of our species.


After half an hour of letting Arther roam my bedroom floor, which was a complete shit pit. Clothes were sprawled everywhere, god knows what else was there. I dare to look myself, imagine what my Mum would think? Oh well, it doesn't effect her if my room is a mess. It's my room, not hers. It might be a mess, but I know where everything is. I wasn't in the mood to draw, so I went to my laptop, and wrote. I'm not going to bother to eat, especially since my Mum was calling me down to eat. I normally do this, I don't eat the food she prepares. Sort of like a hunger strike. My Dad knows I do this, so he sends me money for food. I normally just get a take-out from town.


I changed into a pair of shorts and a loose shirt. And laid on top of my covers and stared blankly up to the ceiling. Thinking, about whatever came into my mind. First it was about jobs I wanted to get, and then it was about me getting a contract to do drawing as a living. And then somehow I found myself thinking about Native Americans and wolves. It's weird how my mind works, like I said earlier. My mind is messed up.

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