Take It Away: Chapter 1
Ian sat motionlessly on the floor, against his bedroom wall, shivering. The pain enveloped him once again, forcing him to fight back a wave of salty tears, as the image, once again, forced its way back into his memory.
"Anthony," Ian whispered between gasps of mental pain, "I'm so sorry." Memories flooded his mind, making it impossible to hold back his tears, and they poured down his face, soaking his hoodie. He dropped his head in sorrow, as he realized it was his Smosh hoddie. "Dammit, what did I do?" Ian questioned himself, as his mind trailed off to earlier in that drunken night, which seemed to have been years ago, but had only happened hours before.
They had been drinking, the two of them. A lot. They were out in the California wilderness, drinking more beers than their drunken selves could currently count. Anthony had just maken a remark that reffered to Ian's difficult past, at his old school, where he was teased, and bullied for his apparent gayness, his bowl haircut, anything really. You name it, he had been teased for it. Ian was hurt, because he had told Anthony this, thinking he could be trusted to keep it to himself, and never bring it up.
"Why would you say that?" Ian asked angrily. "You know, I thought you were my friend. I thought you were nice enough to keep my wishes of never speaking of it, and keeping the info to yourself," the painful memories now flooding back into his mind, and the hurt registering on his pale face.
"Oh, whatever, if you need some comfort, go fucking talk to Eric, or something," Anthony laughed.
"What?" Ian questioned, his face turning bright red, as a shiver of anger went through his spine.
"Uh, duh, Eric? Our cameraman? All of our camera crew knows, Ian," Anthony giggled, obviously drunkenly happy of what he'd accomplished.
Ian went into rage mode, as he heard his supposed friend tell his tale. Obviously drunk, and with no idea how to control his rising anger, he yelled, " FUCK YOU!", and picked up an empty beer bottle, and swung it at Anthony. He heard the shatter, the scream, then dead silence.
He looked down at his work, and was taken aback at the blood running from Anthony's many deep cuts from the glass, and the liflessness of his friend.
"What've I done?!" Ian yelled to nobody but himself, coming back to reality after playing over the incedent in his head for the 1000'th time, still shivering, mortally terrified that he had killed his best friend.
Hey! Excited for part two? Leave me a comment, telling me what you think. Thank you, and good night. XD
"Anthony," Ian whispered between gasps of mental pain, "I'm so sorry." Memories flooded his mind, making it impossible to hold back his tears, and they poured down his face, soaking his hoodie. He dropped his head in sorrow, as he realized it was his Smosh hoddie. "Dammit, what did I do?" Ian questioned himself, as his mind trailed off to earlier in that drunken night, which seemed to have been years ago, but had only happened hours before.
They had been drinking, the two of them. A lot. They were out in the California wilderness, drinking more beers than their drunken selves could currently count. Anthony had just maken a remark that reffered to Ian's difficult past, at his old school, where he was teased, and bullied for his apparent gayness, his bowl haircut, anything really. You name it, he had been teased for it. Ian was hurt, because he had told Anthony this, thinking he could be trusted to keep it to himself, and never bring it up.
"Why would you say that?" Ian asked angrily. "You know, I thought you were my friend. I thought you were nice enough to keep my wishes of never speaking of it, and keeping the info to yourself," the painful memories now flooding back into his mind, and the hurt registering on his pale face.
"Oh, whatever, if you need some comfort, go fucking talk to Eric, or something," Anthony laughed.
"What?" Ian questioned, his face turning bright red, as a shiver of anger went through his spine.
"Uh, duh, Eric? Our cameraman? All of our camera crew knows, Ian," Anthony giggled, obviously drunkenly happy of what he'd accomplished.
Ian went into rage mode, as he heard his supposed friend tell his tale. Obviously drunk, and with no idea how to control his rising anger, he yelled, " FUCK YOU!", and picked up an empty beer bottle, and swung it at Anthony. He heard the shatter, the scream, then dead silence.
He looked down at his work, and was taken aback at the blood running from Anthony's many deep cuts from the glass, and the liflessness of his friend.
"What've I done?!" Ian yelled to nobody but himself, coming back to reality after playing over the incedent in his head for the 1000'th time, still shivering, mortally terrified that he had killed his best friend.
Hey! Excited for part two? Leave me a comment, telling me what you think. Thank you, and good night. XD