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Sometimes he felt like his hands would never be clean.
Glowing shimmering orange and flat like the heads of pythons, they moved over and over eachother in a hypnotic dance beneith the red glow of the rushing water. The sink spilled onto his hands which moved faster and faster, fanatic and frantic. He rubbed them together making a hissing sound, like when people push mouthwash through their teeth over and over. Warm water like the spak-spak-spak of blood only people didn't get upset when they saw water. It rushed around the silver stitches in his wrists, lapping at the cuffs of his sleeves and soaked into the dry areas of his skin. Rhythmicly breathing in time to the scrubbing, Grey was panting faster and faster. He felt lightheaded and ignored it. The repeatative motion was all in his world.
Smells of the bathroom lingered in his nostrils stronger than in any other person. He was not any other person, he was a freak. Water filled his ears. Aftershave and dried skin and soap moved in clouds around him, a different scent every few minutes. He sometimes did not like the bathroom because it echoed, and had so many smells. It smelled a little like the hospital, but wasn't. Other times it was the only place he felt safe at all. He would come in and lie in the bathtub, turn on the faucet and run water over his head, feeling the drain pulling at his hair. He imagined how simple it would be to die in a bathroom. He tried it once, but they broke open the door and pulled him out of the water. And he could not find the sharp things well without them. He had broken the mirror before too, but the sound had brought them running right away before he could do anything, and the hospital had stitched his hands up. He pulled the stitches out with his teeth and his hand scarred.
Keoroot told him he was brave for wanting to heal by himself. The family told him he was stupid. The people at school simply stared. He hated their stares, and wanted to cover every centimeter of his skin to keep them from looking at him. Keep their eyes from moving over his body like hungry parasites, burrowing into his sickly white skin and sucking his life out. He hated their eyes. He hated their eyes but he could not hate them. He didn't want to hate them like they hated him for being a freak.
But he wasn't thinking about them now. He wasn't thinking about eyes, or people, or Keoroot, or mirrors or the smells. The water and the constant movement of his hands filled the world, kept his body moving inside itself. His heart beat faster as his hands moved faster and he was certain the soap was gone by now. It felt warm between them, maybe he was rubbing the skin against itself enough to burn some of it off by pure friction, he didn't know. All he knew was they had to be clean. Clean, clean clean...Dirty hands...dirty with death and dirt and mud and what they had done to him and-
"Grey?"
The frantic movement came to an uneven sudden halt as his hands leapt like bitten squirrels to the sides of the sink and his head bucked forward. The mirror shook from the sudden tugging on the wall as his knuckles, orange and cooling, held a vice grip on the blue rim. The water rushed onward, the sound unobstructed now and consistant. He suddenly felt thirsty, even as her image of him filled his head. Black and out of place in the ceramic sterile whiteness of the bathroom, his face flushed red and his hair tangled. He had changed shirts when he had come inside as quickly as he could. Black...he could always see black shirts because they absorbed heat and radiated the faintest rosey glow. Grey liked to be warm, it made him feel safe. But in her vision he was dark and dangerous looking, his shoulderblades arched under the fabric like the rill on a startled lizard. He did not turn to look at her but took in a quivering out-of rythem breath.
She stepped farther into the bathroom, coming up next to him. The girl, the little girl, he could feel her heat and smell her now. "Grey, are you okay? I heard the boys on the bus yelling when it went by. And you ran in-"
"I'm fine," he snapped a little to quickly. His arms were shaking and he didn't know why. His insides felt strange, as if someone had tied a rope around them and was pulling tight. But he looked around, and there were no other shapes. No one was. He felt Marie screaming in his head and wanted to plunge it underwater and drown her out, but now the girl was touching his sleeve.
"You don't look fine, Grey. You look sad," her hands were small, and closed with childlike innocence around his arm. He inhaled sharply, afraid, and yanked the arm away, cradling it against his chest, glaring at her. She didn't seem to notice in the least. "You've been in here a long time too. Momma didn't notice because she's busy with work and Papa isn't home yet." Her shape was small but glowing orange in his vision. Whole, unbroken, unharmed. She didn't flicker or turn other colours, she wasn't afraid. "What's wrong, Grey? Please tell me."
Suddenly he was sinking to his knees, slipping, a dead weight slithering off the white surface of the sink and hitting the ground hard. His breathing started coming hard, an invisable fist closed around his lungs. He wanted to cry. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream and shout and tear himself to shreds. All that came out was a high pitched whine from the back of his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. Hands flew to his face and he hid. He was sinking down, down...and suddenly the little girl was there with him, small arms wrapped around him and tugging him close. He tried to curl but she moved him and held him, her cheek resting against the top of his head, innocent little girl and a demon. He let go, suddenly, burried his face against her and closing skeletal pale white spider hands around her arms. He didn't want her to go. The sound in his throat grew, and warm water began to trickle down his face. Knees curled up to his chest but the little girl moved her hand through his hair, petting him like a cat, her voice a soothing whisper.
"It's okay, Grey. It's okay." I've never seen you cry...
He choked out his voice, muffled and distorted, his tongue feeling like a slab of wet sand in his mouth. "I promised I never would..."
She just made more hushing sounds and squeezed his shoulder with her other hand. He felt so much younger, a thousand years younger, not just a few. The water rushed on in the background, white sound drowning out the sound of his crying. "You needed someone, Grey. That's all. But I'm here and I'm not going anyplace." If Momma doesn't know what to do with you, I'll figure it out. Nobody should be so sad. Her determination was quiet, muted in her words. But he felt it, and Marie meowed inside of him, finally finding something she could feel safe and silent with. He shook and cried more. It felt like he would never stop crying.
"I don't even know your name..." he felt stupid and unworthy. He didn't care. He just wanted her to never go away, to be there to hold him and not care what he was or what they did to him except to make it better. The water was dried on his hands now and they were cold and dry. The tears left trails down his face, a map down to the scars on his chin and neck and the rest of him.
She didn't seem the least bit disturbed by this fact. He had lived there a year, he knew none of their names, and she did not care. He dug his hands into her arms, afraid of letting go. If it hurt, she didn't think about it. "I'm Relia, Grey. Relia."
"Never go away," he curled closer. He was so scared. Scared now that he finally had someone, they were going to go away like everything else did. That she would get tired, and throw him away like a used up toy like the rest of them.
"I'm not going away, Grey." She petted his head and kissed it lightly. She was such a little girl. Relia.
The rushing water was all he could hear.
WHERE THE HELL IS THAT BOY? "GREY!"
Oh dear, I don't like that tone. "What's happened, Jacob?"
I'm going to kill that bastard.. "GREY! The little freak's gone and had the school call me up at work that's what! GREY!"
The Voices and voices drifted like ghosts down the hallway and through the open door. Grey jerked awake, found himself still leaning against the little girl. She was still glowing...still warm...the water was still hissing down the drain in the sink. Pulling himself up, he watched as Relia's hands automaticly curled under her chin when he released himself...two glowing orange mits side by side, fingers hardly visable from their own light. His hands fumbled, shakey, as he shut off the tap. It made no sound, the hissing of the water simply changed pitch and stopped entirely. His eyes flashed down to the glowing orange shape that was the little girl and back up again to the blue wall. The Voices and voices screamed again.
WHERE IS that sick little freak? "GREY! Get IN here, goddamnit! NOW!"
He couldn't affourd for them to find him in the bathroom. He had a bad feeling about it. And Relia. He didn't want them to be near her when they were angry. Turning, shaking, he darted out and shut the door behind him. "Please stay," He whispered.
Halfway down the hall, they met him. The bigger shape, the father shape, glowed a bright red, his bulk filling the hall. Grey knew he couldn't get around him, and stood. He didn't know what would happen next.
For a moment it was silent. Grey saw himself in the man's vision, over his shoulder himself in the lady's. Silence silence...He could see the heat coming off the bigger shape in waves, anger flowing like a living thing. He blinked, his eyes darted around, looking for anywhere else the anger could be directed. Only he stood. Only he was target. When the big shape spoke, its voice was a barely controlled tone.
"You know...what they called me at work for?" Grey began to open his mouth to speak but the shape cut him off. "They called me...to tell me you'd started a fight on the bus."
"I didn't-"
A slap connected with the side of his face so hard it knocked Grey to his knees. His jaw clacked shut on his tongue with alarming force, and Grey put two fingers to his lips. They felt warm. He looked at them. Crimsion running colour..glowing...blood. Spak-spak-spak...
"Don't you DARE lie to me, you peice of shit! What the hell did you do on that bus?" The control was gone now, the voice was roaring at him. The shape was a glowing behemoth, filling the hallway. Cutting off escape. Grey spit blood into his hand and wiped it on his shirt. Before he could answer, a kick hit him in the ribs. His body doubled around the foot and he rolled to the side, hitting the wall with a thud. More blood raced over his tongue, warm and metalic. The voice bellowed in his ears. "DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING BLEED ON MY CLOTHS, YOU FUCKING INGRATE!"
Grey refused to bring his voice to the shouting the other had reached. He wasn't angry, or upset, or even in pain. He was used to the abuse. The only thing that worried him was ...why? The lady shape was blurred and pulsating with light. She wanted to know why too. She wanted the larger shape to stop. Grey looked up, moved a sleeve over the blood on his lips, and blinked. "It is in my expereince that when I am bleeding, something caused me to be so."
The roaring was in tongues now. A fist decended on the back of his skull and knocked him to the floorboards, blood splashing over his lips and onto the wood. Crimsion puddles, faintly glowing. A foot to the stomach made him roll limply again, and something snapped. Maybe a rib. He didn't know or feel it. His hands splayed out like birds flattened on a roadside, hit in the night, dead and plastered against the cool floor. Crimsion and pulsating. His head was at an angle that all he could see was his hands. A foot came down in the small of his back as the other foot continued to kick him. His body jolted a little each time. The lady voice was screeching now, but Grey only blinked passively, watching his hands, and the little puddle of crimision grow in his vision.
"Papa...?"
Oh no. RELIA! The roaring must have woken her up...Grey snapped his head around to catch only a glimpse of Relia's thin glowing figure leaving the bathroom before a shoe hit him in the side of the head. Crimsion filled his vision...blood on his face...RELIA!
"Papa, stop! Stop, Papa!" He could see her Vision now, pulling on the side of the big shape's sleeve. Trying to make him stop. The kicking didn't let up. But Grey could see what was building inside the larger shape's mind...He had to stop him...
Another kick hit him in the stomach as he began to stand, but he ignored it completely. Fist to the head...coming..he saw the Vision and ducked. The big shape got angrier. It wasn't even roaring now. Just hitting. Another kick was coming. Grey caught it in one hand, turned it away, let go. He watched the foot as it decended slowly to the floor...Oh so slow... The shape was realizing something. He looked up at it quietly and blinked. Blood trickled down his face in the other shapes' vision. "Do not do this."
"Papa, Papa, please leave Grey alone! Papa, you're hurting him!"
The big shape turned on its heels and roared at the girl, its voice shook the walls. Grey felt something growing inside him. Something terriable, something dark. He wanted to stop this. He simply held still. He needed to think of what to do...what to do...."I'll hurt the little bastard if I see fit, goddamn you! STAY OUT OF THIS!" Two hands raced forward and grabbed Grey by the collar of his shirt, pushing him back, slamming him against the wall. "And as for you, you freak son of a bitch..." He hit Grey hard in the stomach and the Demon did not move, even though it felt as if a brick had been dropped on him. Just the sensation...not the pain. It was only a fist. He looked over the shape's shoulder as another fist caught him in the side, trying to see her. The little shape was standing still. Her Voice was a panicked repitition of no, no, no...
"Look at me, damn you!" Slap to the face which caught him slightly off guard. Grey's head was snapped around and slammed into the wall. Orange droplets sprayed. Blood in his hair, on the floor, most certainly on the wall. It took a lot to kill anyone. This wouldn't do it. But she thought it would.
"Papa, NO!" She ran, tried to throw herself between the big shape and him. Grey tried to shout warning and push her away but the big shape got to her first. He felt the white...red...glowing...already around him...
"STAY OUT OF THIS!" A backslap and the girl went flying, spinning...too much force and she was in the air with a scream, and Marie yowled in his mind. Relia...RELIA! She hit the floor far away with a squeak, and the shape turned to look back at him, but his eyes were on fire now.
"Do not touch her."
"Shut the fuck up."
It reared back for another punch but two glowing hands grabbed him and twisted...orange began to spray. The lady shape screamed. Relia felt nothing... unconcious because there was no scream. The big shape was screaming though. Orange sprayed...He fell back with one hand to the wall and it shattered, groaned, the roof began to fall...The lady shape shreiked and it twisted inside his head...They were all coming out all screaming all pushing for attention now and shapes swirled fell screamed...
"SHUT UP!" He glared at her, pointed at her, and the red light flew around her and she shattered into red dots, flying in every direction. Two Screams in his mind two new Screams and the ceiling was clattering, falling, shattering...Relia! She would be killed...He ran to her, tried not to listen and ran to her, held out a hand and....
Relia shattered into a rain of dots. Orange and red dots. Light all around her, her Scream burning through his mind...Relia! RELIA! He fell, the house snarled and dropped around him...walls bucked inward and plaster fell and hit his body, tore new gashes, but he didn't care. A hand moved shakily to his face...oh so shakily...What....had he done?
....
Shapes swirled...something hit him hard...all was dark...
....
You killed them, Grey. I warned you not to let the Human out of site...If you hadn't, you might have-
He groaned, squeezed his eyes shut. Not her again, not now. Not so close to blissful nothing. His hands trembled as he forced himself to move...Forced himself to push the piles of dead houseing off himself...Forced himself to sit, and look around.
What was his home was gone. There was no residual glow of life. Nothing. They were all dead...she was right. He had killed them all. But...
Oh, Grey...Why didn't you listen to me?
"Shut up," He wheezed through his lungs. Something inside was broken. Something inside wasn't working. He ran a torn sleeve across his mouth, feeling the cuts and scrapes on his pale skin against his lips with surprising sensitivity. Looking down, all he could see was glowing colour. Crusted some places and still flowing others...Blood...But he was alive. He drew a ragged breath...He was alive...and she wasn't.
Grey, if you had held control...
"I said shut up! SHUT UP!" He looked at his arm, at the tattoo they'd given him of a dragon, curled. He knew it was there. Keoroot had seen it, told him what it was. He saw it in Keoroot's vision. But Keoroot wasn't here now. He was with the doctors too. And Relia was dead. All that remained...was her...and he wanted her to go. He wanted her to go from the depths of his insides, because if she wasn't there, he could be like all the others...and this would not happen...
His hand closed around peice after peice of rubble, searching for something sharp. A stone from the fireplace had cracked and splintered and bit into his hand tightly. He whipped his arm around to where he knew she was and began to dig. He would pull her out of him. He would be rid of her. Crimsion streaked down his arm in his vision, and her voice grew silent. Shaking, trembling, he brought the rock away and looked at what he'd done.
But quietly, softly, mournful...she spoke. You can't be rid of me, Grey. I'm sorry.
He threw back his head and screamed. Screamed at what he'd done, what they'd done...what everything had come down to. He wanted to die. He wanted to die, and each time he could not. Screaming...he looked up...and Marie and now Relia screamed too. Trembling, the rock dropped from his fingers and clattered on the rubble. His throat closed off the scream in a howl, and he still looked up, holding the tears inside his eyes. Above, he knew there were stars.
He knew it was the only place left now.
