+RiskFalling's Mind Is Not Safe...

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:46:41 -0400

“I must have been gone for ages. New faces are appearing from every angle.” Extractor sighed, looking over at the other and raising a brow. How odd; he didn’t even feel the urge to get into the other’s mind in the slightest. Not even for a name. Maybe those years away really made him different. How different? “I usually don’t ask because I would already know, but, name?”

Photo

Sun, 17 Jul 2011 21:37:48 -0400

"I'm so sorry..."

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 23:57:00 -0400

“Happy Birthday, Christopher.” Christopher’s Mother said it softly while she handed him with shaky hands a tightly wrapped gift. It was almost as if the present grew inside of the paper, causing it to tear the corners of the blue and white stripped wrapping paper. Written in black marker on the stop of it was his name and he already could tell it was another book to add to his collection. Today was the only day of the year his Mother took part in his life in a positive way. She wasn’t telling him to behave and listen to his Father. He was allowed to just relax for once.

He took the present from her hands and kissed her cheek, giving a small smile while he un-wrapped it. “?” Christopher gave a pleasant smile over at his Mother who nodded her head. “You mentioned that you were interested in the 20’s…? I think you might enjoy this book.” She patted his shoulder and gave a lingering gaze.

Today wasn’t going to be relaxing.

Christopher shoved the book into his back pocket and left his room. He didn’t have to ask at this point. He knew that his Mother was awkward about telling him his Father wanted to see him. He merely knocked twice on the door and opened it a crack, peeking his head into the office and staring at his Father. “Usually you give me a day off on my Birthday.” Christopher shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Usually your birthday falls on a day that nothing has to be done. Today it falls on a day that I need you to do something very different.” His Father tapped his fingertips onto the piece of paper in front of him. “I have a problem that has to disappear.”

“You have a person that has to go away?” Christopher was far from making the topic look pleasant. He knew he had to erase another memory, though he wasn’t sure if that was exactly what was being asked of him right now.

“I need them to be gone for good, Chris. Not gone and living in some house living a gay life, I need him—“

“Dead…?” Christopher’s voice cracked.

“You were always a smart boy.” His Father gave a fake smile of endearment.

Christopher wanted to just tell him he couldn’t do it, making someone want to commit suicide was murder. He wasn’t about to kill someone because his Father had a small problem with them, was he? That was going to be stooping down to the lowest level possible. Right there at the bottom with the killers that did it for the hell of it.

“I…” Christopher opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. No words were willing to spill out to reject the idea.

“He’s in the living room.” His Father stood up and motioned his large hand to the door for Christopher to walk through.

His Mother stood in the corner staring at the small bar set up. She wasn’t moving and her eyes weren’t looking at Christopher at all. All he could do was gulp hard and sit across from the man who seemed to be a nervous wreck. He felt bad for him; he didn’t want to kill the man at all. He just looked over at his Father who gave a stern nod of his head toward him.

There in front of the man on the coffee table was a loaded gun with only one bullet. There was paper on the table and a pen.

Everything was set up to make it seem like a perfect suicide. Christopher only stared at the man for a moment, his hands grasping his knees tightly to the point he was sure he could feel the bone crack. In less than a second he was in the man’s mind.

He saw everything; the man had a wife and children. He saw that he loved them and that the only crime he did against his Father was not listening to him over covering up some paper work that would make them all look bad. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve this.

Christopher made the man’s hand move to the pen, gripping it tightly as the hand shook to write out three simple words.

I’m so sorry…

The words read out loud and clear and it was a message to the man’s family as well as Christopher crying out the man. He felt his eyes grow weak and a sudden tear run down his cheek. He had to kill this man.

He saw all the flashes of memories from this man. He saw that his name was Marco Preston. His daughters were in his memories, he was thinking of them and his wife smiling at him. They were probably home preparing everything for him to come home. They weren’t aware that they would never see their Father alive again. Christopher made the man pick up the gun, unable to really look at the man himself he shut his eyes.

Stuttered breaths were running through him until he finally heard the gun press against the temples of the other. It all happened in slow motion then, the loud pop echoing off the walls and splatter going across the couch and everyone within inches of the man. Christopher felt the warm liquid on his hands as his eyes opened up to see red on his knuckles. The man was dead; he had made him kill himself.

“Christopher…?” He heard his Mother’s mouse-like voice stutter over at him and all he could do was look at her in disbelief. Not even a scream had come out of her mouth at what just happened in their home.

“Christopher, are you alright?”

Am I alright? You just made me kill a man! No, you didn’t make me. I did it on my own but you’ve had me do this shit for years! You didn’t think it would get to this!? YOU AREN’T EVEN FAZED BY THIS!?

He wanted to scream it all at her; he wanted to even rub her face in the mess that used to be Marco Preston’s head. All he could do was stand up and leave the room. He didn’t want to be near either of them. He was so close to his room but he couldn’t bear it anymore, his back just slammed against the wall and he sunk down. He was crying, he was a murderer.

The next day everything in his room was packed. Anything he needed was there, clothing, money and the baseball cap his Mother had gotten him as a gift when he was a child. He took the bag and walked into the living room that was now spotless as if nothing had happened at all. He looked over at his Mother who gave him a weak smile and then over at his Father who paid him no attention. He wanted to say goodbye, but the only thing that came out was, “I’m so sorry…”

This puzzled his Mother, and she stood up for a mere second until he did it. He wiped her memory and everyone in the House of him. No one would know who he was or that they even had a son. He just gave a weak smile at his now asleep Mother and walked out, keeping his hand clutched tightly around the strap of his bag. He had to get far away from them all, he wasn’t right. No…they weren’t right.

Extractor’s Playlist - Hearing Damage.Thom Yorke A tear...

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 21:15:10 -0400

Extractor’s Playlist - Hearing Damage.Thom Yorke

A tear in the membrane
Allows the voices in
They wanna push you off the path
With their frequency wires

And you can do no wrong
In my eyes, in my eyes
You can do no wrong
In my eyes, in my eyes

A drunken salesman
You’re hearing damage
Your mind is restless
They say you’re getting better
But you don’t feel any better

Your speakers are blowing
Your ears are wrecking
You’re hearing damage
You wish you felt better
You wish you felt better

Extractor’s Playlist - Sweet Dreams.Emily Browning Sweet...

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 20:52:00 -0400

Extractor’s Playlist - Sweet Dreams.Emily Browning

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody’s looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to be used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

Siren, Nitro, Extractor & Sonjack I look …well I...

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 17:33:13 -0400

Siren, Nitro, Extractor & Sonjack