All for Tonight

What’s Said:
“All night hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep because tomorrow might be good for something.”
-Matchbox Twenty
Laydon was lying on the couch, not really watching the movie that was playing, but thinking. He kept thinking, and thinking, but nothing made sense anymore. He couldn’t understand anything anymore. His stomach kept hurting, but would never go anywhere, and his head felt like someone had taken a frying pan to the back of it, and the ibuprofen wasn’t helping. Yeah it had been worse since Evan bit him, but now it was hell. Because he had no on to share the pain with; no one knew what he was going through, and the only person that could was a traitor.
Laydon felt a tear slide down his cheek and he brushed it off with the back of his hand. Was this really what it appeared to be? He was crying? Over a girl? One that he had met a few weeks previously? And she was going to betray him.
He rolled off the couch and ran up to his room in a furry. He punched the wall above his bed, in the middle of the mural. He took paint from his desk and through it over his mural he had worked so hard on. Because he knew where the image came from.
The wolf was him.
He ripped down the posters on his ceiling. Down with The Matches, Queen, David Bowie, and Elton John. He scattered the movie cases on his TV. Down with Star Wars, Australia, and Fanboys. He threw the contents of his dresser onto the floor. Down with the picture frames, the masks, the lightsabers and Mangas.
Down with everything he loved.
Everything. He. Loved.
Loved.
He looked across the tattered room and ran out quickly. He still had his bag in the car, so all he had to do was grab the keys and sprint across the cold cement to his bug. He sped out of the neighborhood and drove over the speed limit to the park. He felt he would know if a cop were to come by. He got to the park fast enough, but it wasn’t as fast as he wanted it. He walked over to the rocks, his rock, and climbed onto it gracefully. He brought out his sketchbook and pencils.
He looked around for something specific to draw. As he looked he was reminded of the first time he came here. With his dad. He had been four, it was about a week before his birthday, so two weeks before his father killed himself.
“Where are we going, Daddy?” He had asked, a curius little boy.
“Where I come to think,” he had answered. “It’s where I first met your mother.”
Laydon had looked up to see his father’s eyes glistening, but smiling too, recalling the memory.
“Come on, Laydon,” his father called to him. “It’s up here.” He had taken Laydon’s hands and led him up the rocks.”I saw your mother over by that tree, playing Frisbee with her dog.” He had pointed at the redwood tree Laydon was sketching now, a few trees over from where he first saw Evan.
“Our initials are carved into it somewhere,” his dad had said, remembering the past.
“Was Mommy pretty?” The little Laydon had asked, still curious.
“Beautiful,” his dad answered. “You have her hair, you know? The blonde waves of joy.” His father had tousled his hair.
“Where is Mommy now?” Laydon had asked.
“Some say Heaven,” his dad said looking up. “They say she’s hearing our story, but I don’t know anymore.”
That’s where the memory disappeared. It was too painful to think of after that point. His father speaking about his mother just made Laydon to upset now. Because they were both gone. And now he didn’t even have a best friend.
Or girlfriend. He looked over to where he first saw her. He knew that he truly had loved her. He had loved her from the moment he saw her, which made the betrayal even worse.
He began to draw his mother, the one he only spoke to in dreams. He drew her thin blond hair ever so like his own; her face shape that was long and strong. He was only outlining but he already fetl better, safe actually. The eye shape was tricky to draw, her almond eyes so perculiar. As he was shading the picture the pencil broke. He cursed under his breath and pulled out the other one he had.
And stopped. There was sadness in her eyes. Her face posture and everything else was sad. Why had he drawn her so sad…from his dream, not from a picture. Because this was her in his reality.
He erased her eyes shaping them into what he thought was more happy; he made the lips plumper, the hair longer and darker. He shaded the jaw to be more set. And thehe realized his new mistake. It was Evan.
He tore out the paper and threw it as hard as he could in a baseball throw. It landed by the redwood. He started shoving his things nto his backpack.
“Leaving so soon?” said a voice from the trees behind him. Evan.
“Yeah,” he answered, not looking at her, yet not getting up.
She sat down next to him and touched his hands. “Are you okay? You seem kid of out of wack.”
“Yeah,” he repeated.
“To which one?” She asked.
“Both,” he said, still not looking at her.
“What’s wrong?” She lifted her hand to his face, but hesitated. “I’m trying to help.”
He jumped up and mumbled something incoherent.
“What was that?” She stood too, wiping the dirt off her hands onto her ripped jeans.
“I don’t need anymore fucking help from you,” Laydon growled. “It’s your fault I’m getting fucked up anyways.”
“Excuse me?” She looked furious, but beyond that, confused. “What did I ever do?”
“This shouldn’t even be happening to me!” Laydon shouted, staring at her now. “You told me nothing about the prophecy. About what I’m supposed to do.”
“Where,” Evan said slowly, taken aback, “Did you hear that from?”
“You’re honest little friend came by the shop today,” he said as her face drained of color. “Yeah, Loren? She’s pretty friendly with trying to make peace. She told me a damn more than you. About both of us.”
“I was going to,” Evan said quietly. “I didn’t…”
“When?”
“When the time was right.”
“You mean when Vlad was about to kill me,” Laydon walked up to her until they were chest to chest, and glared down at her. “When your mission was complete. When I was going to be dead.”
“I never wan—” Evan tried to say. She was gazing up at him with tears in her eyes.
“You don’t even deny it,” Laydon said, shaking his head. “There was a small part of me that hoped Loren was lying, even though I could feel the truth. I can even feel that you’re telling the truth now.”
“Laydon,” Evan was crying now as she grabbed the front of her shirt. “I didn’t want to—”
“But you did,” Laydon said. “And that’s what matters to ruin everything.”
“Laydon,” Evan tried again. “I never planned this to happen. I never planned to fall in—”
“Piss,” He cut her off, not wanting to hear it, “Off.”
He saw her lip tremble before the flash of red. And then she was gone. Laydon closed his eyes and sank to the ground. The only thing he could think of was the last thing she said.
She was telling the truth.
And then everything was black.


Okay I am etremely tired ad must get my dog inside.
So ttfn

Always, as Promised
-S.