I'M A KILLER [SAM/DELLA]

[aub]

She was dead. The little girl was dead. The little girl who’s disentangled body had lay strewn across the road. The image that was imprinted upon his eyelids, an image that he couldn’t escape from except for when he was playing guitar. And then today happened and he realised that he was a killer, a murderer, that he’d murdered his little girl, his baby, his angel. Not only had he murdered her but he’d even pretended that she didn’t exist, that he hadn’t killed her, that he wasn’t quite the monster that dominated his body. It was such a small thing that had caused him to realise this, and yet it had taken over his life. He’d been on stage, playing his guitar, as wild as he always did, forgetting himself in the music, and then he saw her. She’d never stopped being pretty, she’d never stopped being wonderful, and yet across the crowd, because of course she wasn’t even in it, she was there with another man. It was far away, yet he could make out her silhouette. He could make out that silhouette anywhere, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He suddenly felt sick, as he’d fallen to his knees, a foreign action because his fingers weren’t working anymore. His guitar hung around his waist, his hands were in the right place and still, his amp made no noise. But that didn’t matter because he’d forgotten about it. There was nobody else here but him, and her and the stranger. Oh yes, and his daughter. The stranger disappeared, and all he could see was him, Della and his daughter; holding her, hearing her chuckle, seeing Della smile at him, and then suddenly hearing her cry, those cries that haunted him from that night, and then the blood, so much blood. Why had the flash back occurred? He didn’t even know, it was as if he was slipping out of consciousness and yet his eyes couldn’t move from the spot that was the mother of his child and another man. Finding use of his legs, Harrison stood back up and although he could barely remember doing it, handed his guitar to someone off stage, he didn’t know who, he didn’t care, because he’d ran past them so quickly, and he’d kept running.

At first Harrison was sure that he had been running over to Della, only the painful stabs in his chest when he remembered seeing her, with him, had made his legs move in a different direction, a more terrifying direction. The graveyard. He ran around it, searching for her name, the name of his little girl, as the memories seemed to flood over him, as they ate at his soul, so quickly. Harrison had never ran off stage before, but he’d also never accepted the fate of his child before, or what he’d done to her. He put his sleeve into his mouth because he needed something to bite on to, to distract him from the pain, because it was taking over. He couldn’t breathe as he searched, as he ran, as the hours seemed to pass him by. His eyes burnt from tears, as if his eyeballs would fall out, but it was his heart that hurt the most. It was being ripped to pieces, and then set on fire. The pain was never ending, and what made it worst was the fact that it was his fault, it was his own fault that he would never get his little girl back. Finally Harrison stopped, and looked around him as the gravestones had become cast in the moonlight. He’d searched for hours, sometimes running, sometimes crawling, sometimes collapsing and bawling against a random tomb, and he had only realised that this was the wrong city. He was on tour. His little girl wasn’t buried here. She was still suffering alone, neglected of her father’s love, a lost soul, and he would never be able to apologise to her, and he’d never be able to hold her again, or her mother.

Another twang. He thought his heart had already been destroyed, by himself, and yet the pain only deepened as he thought of Della. She’d been so perfect, and he’d taken everything. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to be happy, perhaps he wasn’t even meant to exist; and now Della was happy with someone else. But she wasn’t allowed to be. She’d created his little girl with him, his girl was apart of her, and apart of himself, and now gone. He had to see her. This time he didn’t run to reach her, his entire body was numb and he’d never felt less caring as he entered the hotel they were staying at. Harrison liked to be in control of things, in control of everything, so he already knew what room they were staying in. He walked the stairs, ignoring everyone he passed, even the mirror which revealed the true horrors of his character. It was now reflected on the outside. He was a broken man, and he should be dead. His daughter should have been here instead of him. Because he was a murderer, and he’d never hated himself more. Arriving at her door, he realised he had no plan at all, but knocked none the less, not even caring to wipe away the ongoing silent tears, or trying to fix how bloodshot his eyes had become. He banged on the door three more times, his emotions getting the better of him. They never got the better of him. Everything was always planned and plotted. His words were always carefully chosen. And now he wanted to collapse, or something like that. ”Della, come and speak to me, please!” he shouted through the door, although he didn’t recognise his voice. It seemed so foreign, so broken. But that was fine, because he was a murderer, and he had blood on his hands.

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[SAMANTHA NICOLE BROOKS]

We're soldiers, instinctive,
(We can bring change before we die.)
THROUGH TAILS OF THE DEMONS, TO FEEL WHAT LIES BENEATH OUR EYES

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Samantha was with Della in a hotel for the weekend. She hadn’t hung out with her friend in a while and she needed to find out more about what had happened between her and Harrison. Samantha had seen Harry around the tour grounds and when she hung around Cale, since they were in the same band and everything. She just wanted to know what had happened to make Della so hostile towards someone. Sam had never seen her so angry at anyone before. It was weird.

So, Sam had booked a room for them and here they were. They had talked and everything the day before. What Della told her had put her into a state of shock. Her poor friend having a baby with him, and then he went and got into a drunken accident and killed their daughter. It was horrible. After hearing it all, Sam understood why Della had so much anger towards the boy. She didn’t blame her at all. And she thought her anger towards Toby was bad. This was ten times worse. Now her problems seemed like nothing.

She was just sitting with Della watching some tv and relaxing. She wasn’t going to make Della think of the horrors anymore. She was just grateful that she was finally able to share everything with her. She was going to make sure that Harry stayed away from her friend. She didn’t need to hurt anymore and Sam knew that seeing Harry would make the pain come back every time. Sam jumped when she heard a knocking at the door. She wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to show up. The only ones that knew where they were was the band and Cale. That was it.

She frowned when whoever it was banged again. She groaned and clambered of the couch, just as the douche behind the door, yelled at it. She knew that voice. She had heard it when she spoke to the owner. Before she knew the horror that had happened between him and her friend. She glanced back over at Della. “Hey, go into the bedroom. I’ll get rid of him…okay?” She gave her friend a smile and waited until she was out of the living room and in the bedroom. She just didn’t want her to deal with him right now. She didn’t need it. This weekend was about them and relaxing.

Sam walked over to the door and opened it just enough to stand between the door and the frame. She wasn’t expecting to see him on the floor and crying. But she wasn’t about to let him in and bother Della. She straightened herself up and frowned at him. “What do you want, Harrison?” She asked, placing a hand on her hip. He wasn’t about to get past her for anything.

(TAG ?!) Della<3 & Harry D<
(WORDS ?!) a bunch
(WEARING ?!) outfit
(STATUS ?!) finished
(NOTES ?!) rawwr!
(CREDIT ?!) joey of CAUTION 2.0

[annie]

delphine had always told herself that no one really needed to know about her past. there was absolutely no use in letting her band mates know about that, was there? after all, she was convinced that none of them had told her everything about their past. she knew that they were supposed to be friends and that they were supposed to trust one another, but she simply could not tell them about that part. she felt somewhat ashamed about it all, when she thought about it. it had partly been her fault after all. if she had not let harry come back to her and their daughter after all that time, daniella probably would have still been alive. she would have never admitted it, however. it was just easier, for every single thing in life, to blame someone else. the guiltiness usually made her suffer way too much for her to be able to accept the fact that she was responsible. but she also knew that it was not right to put the entire thing on harry’s shoulder. deep inside, she knew that he felt guilty. she knew that he hated himself for killing their daughter. she had seen how he had acted around her and had then known that he had cared about her, that he had loved her probably even more then he had once loved della. she knew that everything he said about never loving her or their daughter was just lies he kept repeating to himself. even though it hurt her and that it seemed to cut right through her flesh when she heard it, she understood that that was his way to cope with the problem and she had let him do just that for many years now. she had just accepted the fact that not taking responsibility for his actions was his way of getting out of that mess that they had made. she should not have, that was for sure, but part of her still loved him and it was that precise part of her that made her accept everything he had put her through. however, recently, when he had, for the second time reappeared in her life, it had simply been too much for her to handle. she needed to get away, to breathe freely once again. touring with the band had seemed to her to be the perfect way of doing just that since her hometown kept bringing back to her mind memories of him and of their daughter. but now that he was there, it was even worse then when she had been back home.

delphine had eventually decided that it was time for her to move on after their latest fight on the chat that was meant for band members and fans to chat together. she had found herself crying afterwards and had thought it would be better for her to simply let go. it was about time. it had been five years since the accident and she still had nightmares about it, even though she had not actually been there when it had all happened. she had those constantly. they even sometimes forbade her to sleep properly. it was tiring, annoying, frustrating. it was also the main reason why, even though she still had feelings for harry, she had decided to go out with another guy. it was not like she had just randomly chosen a guy while being drunk at a party. she barely ever got drunk, anyway. delphine had been good friends with the guy before, when they had been going to the same church. he had somehow found her and had asked her to hang out with her. she had accepted. after all, what did she have to lose? it was the perfect way to get harry off of her mind, wasn’t it? so she had gone there and had actually had a great time. that had been until samantha had told her that they were going to be hanging out together the entire weekend so they could have a girls’ time. no matter how much delphine loved her best friend, she was not completely convinced that the girl understood how much it hurt to think back about harry and daniella. she knew perfectly that sam only wanted to know so that she could help out delphine in the end with all of this. but hadn’t she done a pretty good job at handling it all on her own so far? of course, it had been going way better when harry had not been around. however, she could not help it. her ex-boyfriend always seemed to bringing out the worst in her. so, when they had talked over the internet, she had blown up. she could not have held it back, even as people were coming in and even if she absolutely hated making a scene about such stupid things. she had decided, from then on, to stay as far away from him as possible and not talk to him.

but her plan all came crumbling down once she heard his voice coming from behind the door of the hotel room samantha had rented for the both of them for the weekend. delphine could feel her heart falling in her chest and she started having difficulty to breathe. she bit down on her bottom lip hard so she could move the pain to another place instead of once again feeling that large hole in her chest and did just as samantha had told her. it was definitely better if she did not see him. otherwise, she was not completely convinced that she would not forgive him once again and let it all happen. who knew, maybe, this time around, it would be her who he would completely fuck up? yes, even though he had pretty much destroyed every single part of her in the past, he still had not completely fucked her up. some parts of her were still functional, though she was not sure if her ability to love was still there. though she knew he would be able to bring it back in an instant if it had truly left her. as she stood next to the entrance of the bedroom, leaned against the wall, she heard samantha open the door of the hotel room and talk to him and it made delphine fall to the ground. she was not sure she would be able to handle what he had to say or hear him explain the reason why he was here. his voice could have such a strong effect on her as well and it had before. what was she supposed to do now? sit here and wait until he left? she stuck with that plan even though she knew she was going to end up walking out of the room and seeing him. however, who was she to predict anything?

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credit , to me
tagged , miss samantha nicole brooks and mister harrison james banner, aka jazzieeee and aubyyyy.
music , everything on my comp.
outfit , clickers, bby.
words , ONE ONE FOUR NINE.
notes , gjreughihtgiuhgithisutg D: