DIM - Dreaming in Monochrome Sequel 1

DIM - Dreaming in Monochrome Sequel 1 DIM - Dreaming in Monochrome Sequel 1

Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Summary

"...I guess there is something that you can never erase...~" - Rachel, She Wants Revenge The Sequel 1 of Dreaming in Monochrome. Continue the travel through the thoughts of this young troubled person gone depressed.~ Slash (male/male) dysfunctional relationship suggested. Violence, drama, graphic non-consensual coitus.

Summary

"...I guess there is something that you can never erase...~"
- Rachel, She Wants Revenge

The Sequel 1 of Dreaming in Monochrome.
Continue the travel through the thoughts of this young troubled person gone depressed.~
Slash (male/male) dysfunctional relationship suggested.
Violence, drama, graphic non-consensual coitus.

Content

Submitted: September 25, 2012

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Content

Submitted: September 25, 2012

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It seems to me like I have had this particular piece of knowledge for a long while. Perhaps ever since awareness crept inside my mind as a child. Perhaps ever since my most tender years.
It is painful but pain often means pleasure too and if you don’t know or approve of this you are missing out on so much.
Left with pieces I always play and busy myself, attempting to put them back together even if the cracks are visible.
I have matured.
I don’t know when, I don’t know how but I sure as hell know why.
I bring the cup close to my lips and pour some liquid in my throat. I no longer care what I drink as long as it is bittersweet, cold and tickles my throat. It is a reminder of what my life is like so I accept it.
I have this astonishing capability to sit and stare in empty corners or at walls or just anything as long as I don’t actually see it. I feel like I have been doing that all my life. I only like things I am familiar with so I enjoy indulging in this particular activity.
I have not slept for days.
I have not eaten for a week or so.
I have not had a bath for a long, long while.
It is not a concerning matter even though I generally like to appear good. But generally does not work for me anymore.
A simple truth, my own truth is that I hate myself.
I have hated myself ever since a child.
My first memories are laced with hate. Dark, dense, heavy hate.
As I grow, instead of abandoning the hate is loading up, always more.
I miss him.
I cannot convince myself to go back to him but I do miss him.
I miss his smile, his green eyes, messing his already messy but oh so incredibly stylish hair, his touch.
I miss everything about him.
I am not a prideful one. I have done many things I am loath even to think about. I have humiliated and lowered myself so much and especially for him but this time I have no strength left at all. Or I would crawl back to him and beg him to forgive me, to take me back, to hold me. I would do anything to bring my monochrome illusion back even if it means more pain and humiliation. But I am left to sit here with no strength whatsoever.
I barely manage to survive.
It is only for the sake of the memories I have of him.
I cannot escape my memories and I do not even want to. Each one of them holds much pain, shame and a thin thread of happiness. I muse over how we ever managed to be happy with me being the disgusting person I am.
The phone rings and I break out from my self-pity to look around.
Bewildered and even a bit angry because whoever rings is disturbing my silence I reach for the phone and with shaky fingers bring it closer to see the name of theirs. But there is no name, only a number that rings no bells though in the state I am I would not remember anyone’s number.
I press answer and stare blankly at the phone.
“Hello?” a voice comes.
Raspy voice and disorientated I reply, feeling that my answer is no louder than a whisper. I bring the phone closer.
“Hello? Hello?!”
I try again and this time my conversational partner hears my tiny pathetic voice.
“Hey! You alive? Can I come over?”
I nod but then remember whoever it is cannot see it so I say yes, prolonging it unnecessarily.
“OK buddy, we’ll be over shortly!”
Hangs up.
I strongly suspect it is one of my few friends left but I could never be sure.
I stand up and drag myself to the bathroom, where I splash myself with cold water. It does not do the trick but I can say that I have tried.
Sooner than possible or maybe not considering my ability to lose sense of time, there is a knock on the door of my apartment and I go to open it.
I do not recognize the person because he is wearing a cap and the big man behind him is so huge and distracting.
I open my mouth to say something but I get a punch in my face and it is enough to knock me out for some time.

~

When I wake up I am naked on my floor and covered with what I think is loads of semen.
There is no one around at first glance but then I raise my head and see the big guy fondling himself on my couch and staring at me.
As soon as he realizes I am awake he smiles a massive and incredibly ugly smile. To me it is feral and I throw up. He is not easily disgusted apparently because he keeps approaching. I cannot move and I get a horrible feeling that is expanding inside of me. With eyes screaming terror I spot my best friend standing at a distance with the cap reversed.
I am not sure but I think what comes out of my mouth are cries and pleas but it is soon shut and I have no choice.
A bit later I pass out because of the pain and disgust.
I am easily scared.
You do anything out of fear.
Pain controls you.


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