Rei

Stumbling steps ring through your conscience, the darkness fades
Turning your head only to see nothing
Are you insane? Maybe
Because white souls are being released and they are dancing around you
No, they're taunting you. This has to stop. Give them a reason to stop
Cat-like eyes widen in surprise as blood seeps through pristine clothes
An insane smile takes over a cute face, hold a finger to a small smirk, keeping quiet
Whispering dreams into thin air, it's okay to sleep now
Your secret's safe with me...
.
.
Tattooed on the back of a small neck is the mark of darkness and despair
Walking in a crooked line, bright liquid dripping from your hand that holds a sharpened knife
Can everyone hear you now? The night is so silent, even the moon doesn't shine as bright as it used to
The sky is clear, and the stars tell a story
Cicada's cries pierce the air, and heavy footsteps can be heard throughout the forest
Gasps of air leave lungs at a fast pace, and bare feet are bleeding from the hard abuse
Leaving the past behind as you set out to be free
But it will always chase you until you come back to your home
Leaving is forbidden, and invisible eyes watch as a body falls to the ground
.
.
Relish in the idea that this is not you, that someone else is holding you captive
A harsh laugh comes from your throat, and you feel something take over you
They call it a curse, and maybe they're right
There's too much blood on your hands, unable to be washed off
Red eyes glint in the dark, and the demon comes for you
But it molds itself inside of your mind, confirming your suspicions.

Red String of Fate III (TO BE CONTINUED)

"Umm... I never thought Luhan would be so, uh..."

"What? Bubbly, happy...?"

"Well," Sehun muttered, scratching the back of his neck, "I didn't think he'd be so welcoming, actually. I mean, I'm a complete stranger and all he did was point me in the direction of the guest bedroom."

"Ah," Tao nodded, "well, he probably thinks you're one of my university friends. He's use to me having friends over, so he usually doesn't bat an eye."

"Oh," Sehun shifted his feet nervously. "Hey, Tao, I don't want to sound rude... but can I take a shower, please?"

Tao laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, I figured you'd ask, since you were out in the rain so long. I'll grab an extra pair of pajamas and show you the bathroom. Come on."

Sehun nodded and followed. After grabbing the nightwear, Tao led him to a fairly large bathroom and showed him how to use the shower. 

"So you just turn the dial and lift the thing on the faucet?"

"Exactly," Tao flashed a smile. "You learn quick, Sehun," he teased.

"Shut up," Sehun grumbled, swatting the older boy's arm. "Now get out so I can take a shower. I'm dying of hypothermia over here."

"Yeah, yeah... Geez, so demanding. But," Zitao mumbled, walking towards the door, "whatever you say, Princess."

He barely dodged the shoe that was chucked at his head.
______________________________________________________

Sehun felt great after he had wished Luhan and Tao goodnight and got under the covers. No, he felt fantastic. He was warm and bundled up in Zitao's old sweatshirt and sweatpants, under a thick blanket that was protecting him against the harsh rain that was once again falling outside.

He briefly thought of his father and what he was doing, but decided that his lovely dad could go one night without beating on a high schooler. 
______________________________________________________

The next morning, he woke up dazed and a bit confused. This wasn't his room, this wasn't his bed, hell - those weren't his walls! He figured that everything that happened last night had been a dream. A harsh, cruel dream that his mind had played out just to torture him a little more.

That was banished from his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a sleepy Luhan peeking his head in.

"Oh," the older yawned, "You're up. Hey, come downstairs and have breakfast. I made pancakes."

Sehun just nodded warily and watched as the older retreated. He heard the sound of footsteps going downstairs, and supposed it was fine to get up.

He struggled to move his legs, as they had gotten twisted in the blankets, but soon freed himself and followed Luhan's instructions by heading downstairs. He was met with Luhan by the oven flipping pancakes and Zitao sitting at the island with a cup of (what seemed to be) coffee in his hands.

"Hey," Zitao greeted him.

Sehun could only nod back. He walked towards Tao, taking a seat next to him and leaning his head on the table.

"Feeling okay?" Tao asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Sehun nodded. "Yeah, just a little stuffy and tired. Probably because of the rain."

"Zitao told me what happened," Luhan interrupted. He set a plate of pancakes in front of the two boys. "That was really stupid of you, leaving the house without a coat," he chastised.

"Yeah, Zitao told me," Sehun said blankly. 

Luhan nodded. "But I understand why you did it. I'm not yelling at you, but please look after yourself more."

"You don't even know me," Sehun found himself saying. It was silent for a moment, and Sehun bowed his head. "I-I'm sorry. Forgive me, I shouldn't have-"

Luhan shook his head. "No, it's fine. Really. I shouldn't be putting my nose in places it doesn't belong."

"It's not that," Sehun said. "It's just - it's a difficult subject to talk about, so I'd really rather not."

"Fair enough," Luhan said, walking back to the oven and making himself a pancake. He didn't say anything else.

Tao snuck a glance at Sehun and saw the younger biting his lip worriedly. He chuckled and elbowed him. Sehun looked at him and Tao smiled reassuringly. "Hey, don't beat yourself up. Luhan isn't mad at you - he just worries."

Sehun smiled back and nodded, digging into his pancakes. Even still, he had his doubts. Luhan was nice enough to allow him into the apartment and make him breakfast. Sehun didn't need to snap at him like that.

"Hey, are you busy today?" Zitao asked, glancing up from his diabetes-drenched breakfast.

"Don't think so. It's a Saturday," Sehun said, looking at him questionably. Lord knows he didn't want to go back home.

Zitao hummed contently. "Good. Take a shower and I'll get you some of my clothes. I'm taking you somewhere today."

Sehun laughed. "Oh really? Where?"

"You're coming to work with me."

Short and boring but TO BE CONTINUED

MELODY

This long road that you travel is broken in two
You take another puff of your cigarette and laugh quietly to yourself
Life's little games, how could you have forgotten?
Winding spindly fingers through your hair, penetrating your mind

Struggling to sing, struggling to yell, you take a deep breath and dive into the black abyss
Where blackbirds reign and spread their broken wings over the horizon, watching with red, beady eyes
Paralyzing fear, shadowing doubt suffocates you until you can barely think
Release until it all becomes an alcoholic blur

Stepping up to the abandoned door for the first time in years feels strange without him by your side
He was your partner in crime, your best friend
With a little help from insanity, everything was taken away
Quick

Fall through the floors into the dreaded room of memories
Trapped inside yourself and now there's no release for all the pain
There's death, everything is dead, keep repeating until it is believed
Our minds are a dangerous place, the shadows dance freely with a little encouragement

Struggling to sing, struggling to yell, what can you put into your screwed up perspective?
Surely you don't believe you can fix this mess, we laugh at the thought
Climb the grimy stairs up to the rotting bedroom, and sit in his favorite place
On the moldy desktop there is the sight of torn papers and a bloodied knife
Think, think, what would be a beautiful reminder of everything that has happened
The thought rings in your bloodshot, blackened eyes.
"You're dead, everything is dead."
Carve your own words into the fading memory, write your own twisted melody

Red String of Fate II (TO BE CONTINUED)

"So why were you outside in the rain without a jacket?" Zitao asked as he sat down, giving Sehun a large cup of hot chocolate.

They had migrated to a nearby cafe that was amazingly still open, though it was close to one in the morning by now. Once they placed their orders, Zitao had taken off his jacket and given it to Sehun, the younger boy thanking him with a large smile.

Sehun shrugged and buried his face further into the warm coat's material. "...My dad was mad again," he said, words slightly muffled. "I didn't want to be there. I forgot my jacket though."

Zitao nodded with a sympathetic smile but didn't ask anymore questions. He took a bite of his chocolate cake and watched the younger in front of him fidget with his hands. He took the time to actually get a good look at the younger. He couldn't have been more than 18 years old, but the anxiety radiating from him made him seem a bit older. He had hazel, almost amber eyes that were covered by platinum blonde hair. He was a good couple inches shorter than Tao, with snow white skin that stretched over thin arms and impossibly long legs. Overall, his frame was frail and tiny - Tao was afraid if he touched him wrong, Sehun would break in half. When was the last time the boy ate?

"Tao?"

Zitao blinked his eyes rapidly, glancing at Sehun who was looking at him worriedly. "Hmm?"

"You were spacing out. I just wanted to tell you thank you," Sehun said.

Zitao narrowed his eyes at him.

Sehun rolled his eyes. "You know, for bringing me here. Making sure I'm okay. I'm a complete stranger, yet you bought me hot chocolate and gave me your jacket. Just... thank you."

Zitao grinned and his eyes crinkled as he laughed. "It's no problem Sehun. Really, don't worry about it."

Sehun shrugged and smiled at the older again before glancing out the window. He frowned when he saw that the downpour had turned into just a light sprinkle. He could get home no problem now. He glanced over to his companion to see him immersed in his mocha and cake, so he silently stood before shrugging the coat off. He handed the coat back to a surprised Tao.

"Where are you going?" Tao asked, trying to give the jacket back.

Sehun sighed and grabbed his still hot drink off the table. "I need to go home now. I've been gone for a long time and my dad might try and come find me." He shivered at the thought.

Zitao gave him a look. "Sehun, I know that you don't want to go back. It's all over your face." He grinned at the surprised look. "Look, let's just stay and talk for awhile. If you still want to go home then I won't stop you, but there's also quite a comfy couch at my place."

Sehun didn't understand why Zitao was being so nice to him. All they knew about each other were their names and the older boy was offering him a place to stay.

Seeing the skeptical look, Zitao smirked. "No tricks, Sehun - I promise. I even have this roommate named Luhan that I'm sure you'll get along with." He fished out his wallet from his pocket and showed Sehun a picture of a fairly young looking male. With a height no taller than 5'6" and those large eyes, he looked like a twelve year old girl.

"I know what you're thinking," Zitao snickered, "but he's actually 25 years old. He's our hyung."

Sehun groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "So not going to even ask right now," he mumbled, causing Zitao to let out a light laugh.

"Sehun," the older boy mumbled, "come on - just stay here and talk with me for a little bit."

Sehun weighed his options.

-----------------------------------------------

They learned a lot about each other that night. Sehun learned that Tao was originally studying to become a business major to take over his father's company back in China. However, his father had set up a branch close by Tao's college, so Tao would become the head there instead of traveling back home. In the meantime, Tao had opened a tattoo shop that he had been running for over a year now. The older boy had also been doing wushu for years, and was very skilled in hand to hand combat. Countering that, however, would be the older boy's fear of anything of the insect variety and darkness. Sehun laughed when he heard that this Assassin's Creed looking character was afraid of the dark. Tao had whined at him to not laugh, but it was so hard! Tao also seemed to have an affinity for fashion (his favorite brand being Gucci), and enjoyed children immensely, as shown by the multiple pictures in his wallet of his niece, Candy.

Tao, on the other hand, learned very little about Sehun. It seemed the younger really had no control over his life. He was currently in the top 5 in his class, which was fantastic, but the younger made it very clear that he wouldn't be able to afford college. Zitao was saddened by the fact, and when asked why, Sehun only shrugged and complained of his dad spending money (including Sehun's college fund) on things they didn't need. Zitao knew better than to push it, but couldn't help but ask where Sehun's mother was in this whole picture. He was shocked when the younger told him that she had died only a few years ago, due to a fatal car accident that happened the night of one of Sehun's dance recitals. Sehun had always loved dance, and even wanted to go to school to be a choreographer, but ever since that night he hasn't set foot inside a dance studio. Talking about his mother made Sehun tear up, and Zitao decided that that was enough for tonight.

He reached across the table to grab Sehun's wrist and gently tugged him up. He laughed when Sehun blushed in embarrassment and turned away, wiping at his eyes. Zitao sighed and rolled his eyes, handing his coat back to Sehun. Sehun took it with a questioning gaze.

"Put it on," Zitao said gently, as to not upset the other boy further. "You're in no state to return home. You can sleep on the couch at my apartment - Luhan won't mind."

Sehun nodded his head blindly and put on the oversized garment. It was a lot better than returning to a house that doesn't even feel like home.

Red String of Fate (TO BE CONTINUED)

"The legend goes that you have an invisible red string of fate tied to your pinky that leads to your soul mate. No matter how far you go or how long you live, you will find each other."

This particular legend had always fascinated Sehun. It was the one written in Sehun's favorite story book that his mother used to read to him all the time. You'd think that as a kid of 6 years old, he would grow tired of the repetitive story.

But no. That book was the one he'd ask for every night before he went to bed, and his mother would simply laugh at him and jokingly ask if he was tired of it yet.

Years later, however, Sehun is 17 and in his last year of high school, and his mother is in a better place.

________________________________________

Sehun is sitting on a bench outside. He's at the park, his favorite one, with the small slide and swings covered in a thick layer of snow. It's cold, and he forgot his jacket, but he figured that possibly freezing to death was better than going home.

Going home meant yelling, going home meant violence, going home meant listening to his father's drunken slurs as beer bottles smashed to pieces on the wall near Sehun's head. Usually he'd lock the door to his bedroom and hide under the covers, but he had gotten home late that night. The bruises on his thin wrists spoke for themselves.

Sehun smiled a little to himself as he silently watched the purple markings. He wondered if his mom was disappointed in him because he was unable to defend himself. For running away. He dismissed the thought quickly. That kind of thinking wasn't going to help his cold fingers and blue-tinged lips. Sehun had been sitting there too long

He glanced around, blond hair falling into his eyes as he searched for a nearby building. He wanted to take shelter. It was really getting too cold but he didn't want to go back home just yet. He huffed in frustration when all he was met with was darkness. No lights to indicate that anyone was around, nothing to show that businesses were open.

Groaning in frustration, Sehun's rubbed at his arms and smirked. He could barely feel them. A sudden touch on his head made him yelp and jerk around, glaring at the one who bothered him.

A boy who, to Sehun, looked about college age (around 20-21, Sehun was sure), stood behind him. At first glance, he looked like a bodyguard or a mercenary. He stood at least 6'0", with tan skin that stretched over a narrow face and muscular body that made Sehun a little concerned for his safety. He had dark, narrow eyes with light bags under them that reminded Sehun of a panda, and a kittenish mouth that was pulled into a frown. His hair contrasted with his skin as it was a light blond color, with a shaggy mohawk that hung in his face and shaved sides. Sehun also noticed several piercings in his left and right ears.

"It's cold out kid," the man spoke. Sehun was surprised. His voice was kind and soft, not at all like his appearance. He had a slight accent that told Sehun he wasn't from this area. 

Sehun grinned at him. "Yeah, I know."

The other raised an eyebrow at his answer but sighed. "Then why are you out here? You're turning blue for God's sake!"

Sehun averted his gaze back to the ground. He watched as the boy came around to sit beside him. His eyes were narrowed at him curiously.

"Come on now, kid. I don't bite. What's up?"

"You know, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Sehun whispered, avoiding the question. He was startled when a hand was suddenly stuck under his chin. He glanced up to meet the stranger's gaze. "What...?"

"Tao," the other answered. "Hwang Zitao."

Sehun chuckled a little. "So you're Chinese? I noticed your accent," he mumbled. Zitao kept his hand up to Sehun stubbornly, willing the younger boy to take it. After a minute of staring, Sehun sighed and reached forward, eagerly grasping the warm hand with his stiff, cold one.

"It's nice to meet you, Hwang Zitao," the foreign words sounded strange on his tongue, "I'm Oh Sehun."

(TO BE CONTINUED.....)

Silent Doll Poem

The moon shines on the dark cracks of the floor
It's dirty, like the spiderwebs that coat the walls
What are you doing, simply sitting there?
.
.
.
.
Hi, Ms. Elise
Looking at me through those dark lifeless eyes
What visions do you see?
Deathly, doll-like eyes
What do you dream of?
You're tearing apart at the seams
The thick red liquid burns in the light of the lone candle on the table
There are patched crevices on your skin
Yelling, accusations, spoken truths
Stuck in this endless cycle of breathing and living
Is this what you want?
.
.
.
.
Hi, Ms. Elise
What truthful lies will those sinful lips breath?
Whom do you love enough to choose?
Your heart is beating
Can you hear it?
Already you spin your words
Around and around until they become a dance
The moon shines through the hooded windows
Illuminating a still figure
The feverish tongue still moves
The sound of devotion filling the air
Stitches are placed upon your wounds
And everything has gone cold…
.
.
.
.
Still.
.
.
.
You.
.
.
.
.
Do not.
.
.
.
.
Answer….