Electric blue

Clubs had always been the place where Sam Kidson got his pleasure. Seeing all of the models enter the private section, getting so drunk that they could barely stand in their 7 foot high heels. When trying to find the perfect girl for his night, would he know that who he would choose may just put him in direct contact with people he hasn't seen in years. People who could never be seen again, his dead family and friends. Can he work this all out...


2. Seeing Him

The nights had begun to be cold and unforgiving, much like the life Sam had. Standing on the very edge of the paved balcony he waited to see the familiar face of the younger brother he had once known so well. The cigarette held firmly by his charred lips. The deep gash on his right cheek was beginning to sting, never steal from a doped up homeless guy.


A sharp few taps on the door made him lift his head up a little. Turning and going back through the door made him feel nervous for the first time in quite a number of years. His hand lay on the handle, debating within himself whether to let him in after months of silence, or to forget about it and let him in to all of his problems. Slowly, the handle was turned down and, the door opened revealing what he had missed.


His brother Jackson.


Sam forced down the smile that was creeping onto his face, the cold green eyes of Jackson and the crisp suit that gave him barely enough room to breathe.His mousy brown hair was messed up by the wind, but he looked like his younger self.


"You haven't changed much Jackson." Sam said, his voice unwillingly, turning happy. Something he did not want to have.


"You have though Sam. You don't know how much money I have spent just from keeping your lazy butt out of prison."


"Yeah, thanks for that." he mumbled. His hand rubbed the back of his neck.


"You have changed a lot since Mum and Dad died. I don't like the new you." Sam continued, he wanted to go in to an argument, the drugs were starting to kick in.


"I would love to say the same for you but you are still this dark secretive little boy who killed his own sister!" Jackson started to yell and throw his hands about. This is the environment Sam likes now, the one he is almost scared of.


His hands curled around the blazer of his brother and he pinned him to the wall a foot off the ground. He could feel the anger pulse through the blood in his veins, powering the scarred remnants of his hands. He always knew this feeling would happen, but not to his family.


"You listen here, I heard what they were planning to do to you. They would make you kill so many people you wouldn't be able to cope with it. Every second, of every hour, of every stupid frickin' day for God knows how long you live. They say that you want to come with us because of what you did to them, could you live with all of the questions?" His fists relaxed and he went into the pacing mode to try and calm himself down. After a few minutes he turned back to his still shaken brother,


"Lock the door when you leave."


Opening the door he craved his annual night of sex, drugs and a little bit of rock and roll.   

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