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Maston Aiden
Maston Aiden

Posts : 8
Join date : 2015-02-04

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PostSubject: Midnight Tomcat (Open)    Midnight Tomcat (Open)  Icon_minitimeWed Mar 11, 2015 9:09 pm

It was night. The moon was high, shining down on the cherry blossom trees with bent branches and making the bark and pink petals seem to shimmer. The bridge seemed to glow like subdued fire, pale red. Aiden was sitting in the crook of a leafy branch that was hanging over the red bridge, one leg hanging over the branch with a guitar balanced sideways on his other leg which was stretched out in front of him. He was holding the neck of the guitar in his left hand, plucking the strings with his thumb and changing positions on his fingers on the frets. His hair was its usual colour today. Jet black. He may change it to dirty blonde sometime. He had a thin dark blue flannel shirt on, buttoned up and white jeans with no shoes on. Or footwear. He found no need for them here. It was much more comfortable to feel the soft grass beneath his feet. The weather was warm with a cool breeze coming every now and then. It was better if he was wearing loose clothing. His large ears, which were silver-grey and black-striped, were perked attentively to the guitar. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the tree and raised his voice to an unnatural decibel like a howl,“Ooooh…oooh oooh…” His voice lowered again barely audible,“Sleep now…under my skin, make sure you ease my mind… ” He strummed again, harder this time his voice turning deeper and guttural.“You were screwed up by the blaaa-aaaame…oh oh, oh…oh……” He opened his eyes. They were dark, filled with pain,“With no one else to blame…” He strummed harder, calloused fingers striking the strings up and down as he changed chords.“Let it out I say! Count in the corner! Let it out I say!” Pausing, he stared at the ground with dark eyes lowering his voice to a whisper, “Pull yourself out of this state dear…acknowledge that you were a failure…from then on, you might just grow….” He strummed again, twice and raised his voice at the same time and increased the speed and strength as he changed chords, his voice turning into a scream,“Somebody call out to your brother! He’s calling out your name! Oooh, ooh, ooh! You couldn’t help out your own neighbor! You couldn’t tell it to his face!”

He strummed downwards once. It was a harsh movement. He whispered, letting the sound of the chords fade away into stillness, “Somebody call out to your brother…he’s calling out your name…”His eyes were tense. Memories washed over him. The sound of motorcycle tires screeching across the asphalt, the sickening sound of flesh hitting metal at breakneck speed and bone bending, of hushed whispers filtered through his mind. And the hollow, dead-eyed stare of his best friend flashed in his mind. He would never forget the way he saw the light disappear from his best friend’s eyes. In one blink of an eye he was dead. Gone. All because of one reckless split second decision. Aiden raised his head, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes, holding the guitar close to his chest and began to strum again, this time less intensely letting the sound of the guitar flow over him as his expression relaxed. This felt good. So good. He let his fingers glide over the strings, feeling the roughness and coarseness of each string and hearing the chords that came with each movement. It felt natural. Just right. His ears leaned forwards as he heard something beneath in the river, gaze drifting downwards to peer at the water. A fish that was thin and long and had brilliant gold scales was swimming just beneath the surface. He watched it, his stomach starting to rumble. It was making him hungry. He’d eaten some fish he’d stolen from an unsuspecting couple who’d been busy making out on a park bench to notice the grey and black Manx darting away with the fish they’d bought from the fish and chips shop. He continued to strum, watching the fish intently.
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