This story is a prequel to Untitled Song. The story in itself doesn't have much to do with it's sequel. It's the diary of Ayah, a mentally ill teenage boy and how he fights his illness, not always successfull, and not always by the best method. It contains rather disturbing themes, mental illness, angst, rather graphical descriptions of maleXmale sex, violence, explicit language and so on.
The flowers outside my window are blooming so beautifully now. I like the purple ones the best, but I don't know what they're called. There are also some in yellow and blue; they're all of the same breed; all rather cheap. But I like them. I like how the blithe sun shines on them and through the window, lighting my room with a bright, yellow light. My room that still has wet walls. They need to paint those walls now, because they have committed the mistake of not having them in plastic, and the blood has sunken into the chalk, making it light pink and ugly. It has been a week now since they last washed it.
It has been a week now since I'd ruined it.
I think they feel relived, that I can't ruin it anymore and just lay down like a piece of dead meat. But, again, they are nice people. They just have a little bit of a hard time understanding people like me; angels. I can't really blame them for it; it's not their fault.
Cattis was to come and set up new curtains for me today. I like Cattis, she's nice. She speaks to me usually, even though she thinks I'm not listening. She's rather new. She came here after me, actually, only three weeks ago. She had looked at me when she'd washed the walls, told me not to do such a thing again, scolded me. I love her for that, for caring. My parents never scold me, they just argue.
She finally came. I was still staring out of the window, huffing silently from my nightmare.
It was strange how intense the nightmare had been in contrast to the calm day.
Cattis told me the weather was nice, did I see that? Didn't I want to go out? My body must be stiff from lying in that bed for so long! Poor me.
She didn't look at me when she said all that. I watched through half-lidded eyes as she set up the curtains. But occasonally she turned her head and beamed a smile my way, charming lines adorning the corners of her pink painted mouth. She needs to learn how to use make up correctly, though it's rather late for such a thing.
I wanted to smile too, but I couldn't.
The new curtains aren't yellow like the ones before. These are light blue, the color of the sky. I like them. I like how they let the sun rays through.
Cattis didn't close the door behind her. She left it ajar, letting in the voices from outside. The voices floated together, weaving a thread that I couldn't fully grasp.
And then he came. I don't know his name. I hadn't seen him before; he is probably new.
He shook me violently, craving my attention, and then he just went.
The next day he came back though. This time he didn't shake me, instead he sat beside my bed and put his head on my pillow, barely inches from my face and smiled, his dark brown eyes glistening from meaningless happiness (though I think it was the light from the lamps, but let's be a little poetic huh?).
I felt a rand of saliva teasingly run from the corner of my mouth and wet the pillow, tickling my face. The pad of his thumb reached uncomfortably towards it, wiping it away. I think I fell asleep after that.
When I woke up he was gone and I could move.