Kiss me down by the broken tree house.
Title: Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Author: sophiegaskarth
Pairing: implied Jalex.
Summary: He was trapped in the conscience of his own mind. A subject to these strange occurrences that only those around could vow that he was definitely the culprit.
A/N: I sudden got an idea and simply could not stop writing until it was completely. Three hours later here we are! Only short, but hopefully you'll all like it as much as I do:-) [1,889 words]
Everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, the doors, absolutely fucking everything was just plain white. That sickened the 18 year old. His world used to be full of vibrant colours, undeniable feelings and rash decisions. Nothing was set in stone for the youngster, and that’s the way he liked it. Alexander yearned to capture the beauty that stood before him on a day-to-day basis.
He tried to photograph it, but every picture turned out the same - bland, void of any sort of vibrancy or emotion. Instead, he painted. Creating vast canvas full of colour on any surface.
Unlike most artists, where each piece took time, precision, and effort - Alex’s art took none. When an idea struck him, it didn’t linger around his mind, waiting patiently for its time; it overcame him, took over in a way. Engulfed all his senses and bottled them up. Leaving him with only a perfectly imperfect painting to explain his small mental block.
For the first few years since this ‘mental bock’ started to occur, at around age 15, Alex was confused and disorientated. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Imagine having absolutely no memory of what happened in the last few minutes, an impressive painting of an event that only you could remember in front, and many drawing utensils scattered around.
He was trapped in the conscience of his own mind. A subject to these strange occurrences that only those around could vow that he was definitely the culprit. Alex had no memory what so ever, yet these witnesses saw him paint at lightening speed. How on earth could anyone ever be believed when so many are against?
The worst and yet weirdly the best happening was when he and his beloved were out eating at one of the best restaurants in Baltimore. He could only remember parts of the night, mostly about his other half. The way he smiled, laughed and even looked at Alex like he was the most precious thing on the planet had him gushing like a lovesick teenage girl.
On moment, they were talking about their past; their first kiss to be precise. And the next, Alex was up and frantically reaching towards the crayons that were kept to entertain the children. At an inhuman speed that was only capable to believe if one had witnessed it, he kneeled on the booth’s dark red seat and began to draw onto the plain cream wall beside him. Messy, untameable lines spluttered the wall as Alex drew. Not one line looked in place, or good for that matter. But he kept drawing, sketching the image that portrayed his mind onto the canvas for all to see.
Commotion began around him; a circle of curious eyes stared, confused and conflicted. Were they supposed to force him to stop? Or wait to see what monstrosity became of this? The latter was chosen, of course. Who in their right mind would stop an attractive 17 year old from creating?
Soon enough, the colours became more vibrant; lines became less sketched, and more precise. Not with effort though, it simply just developed into something more, something bigger. A few attempted to stop the youngster from carrying on, but their attempts were futile as his beloved - who had known Alexander for the better 7 years of his life - spoke softly to the destroyers, eyes wide and imaginative, three simple words had them choke back their tedious insults and unpleasant threats.
“Let it be.”
A mere ten minutes had passed before the creator stopped and dropped his utensils. By then, the whole restaurant and even a few passing by in the street had stopped to stare. The room was silent and an uncomfortable eerie atmosphere settled around them. No one knew what to say, were they supposed to applaud him? Or kick him out? High-pitched gasps broke the silence; one after another they all came to the realization at what had just happened. A simple 17-year-old boy had created a masterpiece of imperfect perfection with a few crayons and little amount of time. Alex smiled, a fuckin’ huge grin broke across his face as he looked at the drawing on the wall.
The painted was about a metre tall, and three wide. A background of deep green and dark violet covered the wall, which represented the grass and sky of a summer’s night. Scatters of white spots were left in the sky - stars. An old tree grew at the side, tall as can be. Beneath which stood two silhouettes, which seemed to be facing each other. It was exactly as Alex had imaged it just seconds before - their first kiss, beneath the starlit sky on the summers eve of ’06.
Claps arose from the crowd who stared in wonder - this all unfolded before their very eyes, yet how could they not see it before it was complete?
After much confrontation from the restaurant manager, they agreed to keep the piece up. Spark some life into the previously dull room, as he phrased. Alexander seemed to have that affect on people, so it seems. The lives of whom were plain and dull was what he thrived on. They would fall helplessly into his trap and become vibrant. The spark that they lacked was ignited and like Alex, they too would make rash decisions and welcome the undeniable feelings that were so poorly denied before.
He was a creator. Simple. He found, he changed; he created. That was his nature.
His beloved was one of his finds - in a way. They were best friends even before Alex knew of his “talent”. Alex was drawn to him, almost as if an invisible string connects them together. No matter what, this man was his home and he was bloody well going back to it. However, this one didn’t need to be changed. He needed to be saved. He was drowning in the mix of his own emotions because he had no idea how to express them nor who to. Alex helped. Alex became the subject of his repressed emotions. He taught him how to love, how to desire and how to please - and for that, he was eternally grateful.
Alex taught him that when the calling comes, fall helplessly and irrationally in love. Which is what he did. The two teenagers quickly learnt that it was indeed love between them, and now if you questioned one on their relationship status, they would smile - a knowing smile, the kind that only surfaces during a flashback, and speak one simple sentence.
“I’m destined to be with him forever.”
Not all were so welcoming to Alexander’s gift. His parents were one. As soon as the news spread, they confronted him. Harsh words were spat, tears were shred, and doors were slammed. That was the beginning of the end for his vibrant world. You see, they saw it best for Alexander Gaskarth to be sent off to a “special place for extra ordinary people”, as Mrs Gaskarth phrased. He knew better though. A mental hospital was to become his home for the next year.
At the mere age of seventeen and a half, he was whisked away from the comfort of his house to the dull, plain, confinements of St. Andrews Lunatic Asylum. Straight away everything that he used to express himself was confiscated. His guitar, notebooks, pens, pencils, paints, and anything else. It left the youngster helpless. When these sudden ideas struck him, he had no way of expressing them. There was nothing to draw with, not even a granite stone; which lead to even more tears and freak-outs. After a few the staff finally learnt that not giving him something to create with wasn’t the best idea. His paints and brushes were brought back only, because they were the safest. However, as much as he longed to have his utensils back, he found himself stuck. Not one single idea had blemished in his mind since his last freak-out. His world had lost its vibrancy, it’s colour and it’s originality. It had become bleak, just like the walls that he had become confined in for the past few months.
His dearly beloved notice this every visit, yet didn’t voice. The spark in Alex’s eyes had vanished. The creative paintings stopped along his ability to see the world at another point of view. But his true love didn’t fret, oh no. Because he had faith that Alex’s ability would soon resurface with even more force than before - this wasn’t the end for him, not by a long shot.
He was right.
On February fourteenth 2007, Alexander was due to be sent home from the Asylum. His other half was to pick him up straight from his room, purely because the staff were wary of Alex’s recent change of nature - the creative spark was out, and that scared everyone that knew of it to begin with.
Once all his bags were packed and ready, the recently turned 18 year old sat on uncomfortable pain white bed that centred near the window in the corner. His mind drifted off, as per usual, to his past. More specifically, his past with his best friend/boyfriend/soul mate. A small smile spread across his chapped lips as he thought about their best times. The laughs, the tears, the secret kisses. The time when both boys were far built a tree house in Alex’s back garden one summers day at the beginning of their relationship stood out so clearly to him. A blush arose onto his cheeks, his mind taking over. Portraying even more memories and even more smiles. And then suddenly… it stopped.
Creativity took over once more, and oh boy did he fucking welcome it. The idea engulfed him completely and pushed his sense behind, only his feelings, his heart, and this idea was known. Everything was a hundred times more vibrant, more colourful, and more alive. Colours splashed left and right as he portrayed the image onto the previously plain white wall.
Only was it half an hour later, the longest time Alex had spent in his trance-like state, that he snapped out of it and looked at what he had painted. The room that was so bland and boring was now full of colour, emotion and it was fucking alive. The painting was far from simple to be honest. It held exactly what happened on that summers day, the tree house made up of multiple mattresses and wood at the back of the garden next to the forest, sunlight seeping through the trees and two black silhouettes stood next to each other - just like the restaurants painting.
Unlike a photograph, the painting held so much raw emotion that you had to be blind to not see or even feel the immense love that radiated from it. Alex smiled, and glanced up. Never had he been more proud of his artistic ability than now.
His soul mate had been watching Alex paint for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for him to finish. He knew that Alex’s skill hadn’t really disappeared for good, he was a creator, and creators don’t ever stop creating. That was his nature.
Alex noticed his presence and met his gaze. The older of the two saw the spark ignite once more in his eyes and sighed happily.
He was back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - if you want to see what the tree house looked like, watch Kiss Me by New Found Glory's music video. I portrayed most of this story on that to be honest. Seeing as i've had that song on repeat for the past few hours whilst I was writing! XD 40+ plays later here we are. hope you liked it! i'm actually so proud of this, it's not how i usually write. So please comment.
Author: sophiegaskarth
Pairing: implied Jalex.
Summary: He was trapped in the conscience of his own mind. A subject to these strange occurrences that only those around could vow that he was definitely the culprit.
A/N: I sudden got an idea and simply could not stop writing until it was completely. Three hours later here we are! Only short, but hopefully you'll all like it as much as I do:-) [1,889 words]
Everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, the doors, absolutely fucking everything was just plain white. That sickened the 18 year old. His world used to be full of vibrant colours, undeniable feelings and rash decisions. Nothing was set in stone for the youngster, and that’s the way he liked it. Alexander yearned to capture the beauty that stood before him on a day-to-day basis.
He tried to photograph it, but every picture turned out the same - bland, void of any sort of vibrancy or emotion. Instead, he painted. Creating vast canvas full of colour on any surface.
Unlike most artists, where each piece took time, precision, and effort - Alex’s art took none. When an idea struck him, it didn’t linger around his mind, waiting patiently for its time; it overcame him, took over in a way. Engulfed all his senses and bottled them up. Leaving him with only a perfectly imperfect painting to explain his small mental block.
For the first few years since this ‘mental bock’ started to occur, at around age 15, Alex was confused and disorientated. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Imagine having absolutely no memory of what happened in the last few minutes, an impressive painting of an event that only you could remember in front, and many drawing utensils scattered around.
He was trapped in the conscience of his own mind. A subject to these strange occurrences that only those around could vow that he was definitely the culprit. Alex had no memory what so ever, yet these witnesses saw him paint at lightening speed. How on earth could anyone ever be believed when so many are against?
The worst and yet weirdly the best happening was when he and his beloved were out eating at one of the best restaurants in Baltimore. He could only remember parts of the night, mostly about his other half. The way he smiled, laughed and even looked at Alex like he was the most precious thing on the planet had him gushing like a lovesick teenage girl.
On moment, they were talking about their past; their first kiss to be precise. And the next, Alex was up and frantically reaching towards the crayons that were kept to entertain the children. At an inhuman speed that was only capable to believe if one had witnessed it, he kneeled on the booth’s dark red seat and began to draw onto the plain cream wall beside him. Messy, untameable lines spluttered the wall as Alex drew. Not one line looked in place, or good for that matter. But he kept drawing, sketching the image that portrayed his mind onto the canvas for all to see.
Commotion began around him; a circle of curious eyes stared, confused and conflicted. Were they supposed to force him to stop? Or wait to see what monstrosity became of this? The latter was chosen, of course. Who in their right mind would stop an attractive 17 year old from creating?
Soon enough, the colours became more vibrant; lines became less sketched, and more precise. Not with effort though, it simply just developed into something more, something bigger. A few attempted to stop the youngster from carrying on, but their attempts were futile as his beloved - who had known Alexander for the better 7 years of his life - spoke softly to the destroyers, eyes wide and imaginative, three simple words had them choke back their tedious insults and unpleasant threats.
“Let it be.”
A mere ten minutes had passed before the creator stopped and dropped his utensils. By then, the whole restaurant and even a few passing by in the street had stopped to stare. The room was silent and an uncomfortable eerie atmosphere settled around them. No one knew what to say, were they supposed to applaud him? Or kick him out? High-pitched gasps broke the silence; one after another they all came to the realization at what had just happened. A simple 17-year-old boy had created a masterpiece of imperfect perfection with a few crayons and little amount of time. Alex smiled, a fuckin’ huge grin broke across his face as he looked at the drawing on the wall.
The painted was about a metre tall, and three wide. A background of deep green and dark violet covered the wall, which represented the grass and sky of a summer’s night. Scatters of white spots were left in the sky - stars. An old tree grew at the side, tall as can be. Beneath which stood two silhouettes, which seemed to be facing each other. It was exactly as Alex had imaged it just seconds before - their first kiss, beneath the starlit sky on the summers eve of ’06.
Claps arose from the crowd who stared in wonder - this all unfolded before their very eyes, yet how could they not see it before it was complete?
After much confrontation from the restaurant manager, they agreed to keep the piece up. Spark some life into the previously dull room, as he phrased. Alexander seemed to have that affect on people, so it seems. The lives of whom were plain and dull was what he thrived on. They would fall helplessly into his trap and become vibrant. The spark that they lacked was ignited and like Alex, they too would make rash decisions and welcome the undeniable feelings that were so poorly denied before.
He was a creator. Simple. He found, he changed; he created. That was his nature.
His beloved was one of his finds - in a way. They were best friends even before Alex knew of his “talent”. Alex was drawn to him, almost as if an invisible string connects them together. No matter what, this man was his home and he was bloody well going back to it. However, this one didn’t need to be changed. He needed to be saved. He was drowning in the mix of his own emotions because he had no idea how to express them nor who to. Alex helped. Alex became the subject of his repressed emotions. He taught him how to love, how to desire and how to please - and for that, he was eternally grateful.
Alex taught him that when the calling comes, fall helplessly and irrationally in love. Which is what he did. The two teenagers quickly learnt that it was indeed love between them, and now if you questioned one on their relationship status, they would smile - a knowing smile, the kind that only surfaces during a flashback, and speak one simple sentence.
“I’m destined to be with him forever.”
Not all were so welcoming to Alexander’s gift. His parents were one. As soon as the news spread, they confronted him. Harsh words were spat, tears were shred, and doors were slammed. That was the beginning of the end for his vibrant world. You see, they saw it best for Alexander Gaskarth to be sent off to a “special place for extra ordinary people”, as Mrs Gaskarth phrased. He knew better though. A mental hospital was to become his home for the next year.
At the mere age of seventeen and a half, he was whisked away from the comfort of his house to the dull, plain, confinements of St. Andrews Lunatic Asylum. Straight away everything that he used to express himself was confiscated. His guitar, notebooks, pens, pencils, paints, and anything else. It left the youngster helpless. When these sudden ideas struck him, he had no way of expressing them. There was nothing to draw with, not even a granite stone; which lead to even more tears and freak-outs. After a few the staff finally learnt that not giving him something to create with wasn’t the best idea. His paints and brushes were brought back only, because they were the safest. However, as much as he longed to have his utensils back, he found himself stuck. Not one single idea had blemished in his mind since his last freak-out. His world had lost its vibrancy, it’s colour and it’s originality. It had become bleak, just like the walls that he had become confined in for the past few months.
His dearly beloved notice this every visit, yet didn’t voice. The spark in Alex’s eyes had vanished. The creative paintings stopped along his ability to see the world at another point of view. But his true love didn’t fret, oh no. Because he had faith that Alex’s ability would soon resurface with even more force than before - this wasn’t the end for him, not by a long shot.
He was right.
On February fourteenth 2007, Alexander was due to be sent home from the Asylum. His other half was to pick him up straight from his room, purely because the staff were wary of Alex’s recent change of nature - the creative spark was out, and that scared everyone that knew of it to begin with.
Once all his bags were packed and ready, the recently turned 18 year old sat on uncomfortable pain white bed that centred near the window in the corner. His mind drifted off, as per usual, to his past. More specifically, his past with his best friend/boyfriend/soul mate. A small smile spread across his chapped lips as he thought about their best times. The laughs, the tears, the secret kisses. The time when both boys were far built a tree house in Alex’s back garden one summers day at the beginning of their relationship stood out so clearly to him. A blush arose onto his cheeks, his mind taking over. Portraying even more memories and even more smiles. And then suddenly… it stopped.
Creativity took over once more, and oh boy did he fucking welcome it. The idea engulfed him completely and pushed his sense behind, only his feelings, his heart, and this idea was known. Everything was a hundred times more vibrant, more colourful, and more alive. Colours splashed left and right as he portrayed the image onto the previously plain white wall.
Only was it half an hour later, the longest time Alex had spent in his trance-like state, that he snapped out of it and looked at what he had painted. The room that was so bland and boring was now full of colour, emotion and it was fucking alive. The painting was far from simple to be honest. It held exactly what happened on that summers day, the tree house made up of multiple mattresses and wood at the back of the garden next to the forest, sunlight seeping through the trees and two black silhouettes stood next to each other - just like the restaurants painting.
Unlike a photograph, the painting held so much raw emotion that you had to be blind to not see or even feel the immense love that radiated from it. Alex smiled, and glanced up. Never had he been more proud of his artistic ability than now.
His soul mate had been watching Alex paint for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for him to finish. He knew that Alex’s skill hadn’t really disappeared for good, he was a creator, and creators don’t ever stop creating. That was his nature.
Alex noticed his presence and met his gaze. The older of the two saw the spark ignite once more in his eyes and sighed happily.
He was back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N - if you want to see what the tree house looked like, watch Kiss Me by New Found Glory's music video. I portrayed most of this story on that to be honest. Seeing as i've had that song on repeat for the past few hours whilst I was writing! XD 40+ plays later here we are. hope you liked it! i'm actually so proud of this, it's not how i usually write. So please comment.