November 3, 2008Corners of the Mind(Kidnapped Sequel(Second and last attempt))Chapter 17 – The Second Kidnap(The Girl He Couldn’t Save) Bill walked ever so slowly, drawing out his
strides to long, languid movements as he stared hard at his feet. It was early morning, and he had just left
Tom at home, wondering what was wrong with him.
He knew he couldn’t lie to Tom, as hard as he might. Then he said he wanted to be around
nature. How dumb was that? Anyone who knew him well knew he hated
untouched nature because of all the bugs.
But he couldn’t focus on that right now.
All he could focus on was the vision he’d just had. Bill had never told
anyone that he was able to send his mind out of his body; not even Tom. Everyone had always wondered how Tokio Hotel
had become such a phenomenon. Bill had
to laugh; only he and his fans knew the secrets to that one. Or at least a lot of his fans. Bill had never told anyone that he really was
the honest reason for it. That he was
the honest reason people had climbed down from rooftops, had brought their
heads up from bathtubs, or taken their necks out of hanging nooses. He didn’t know how he found these people;
from what he could recall, he’d never seen any of them in his life. The first time he managed to send his body
out, he opened his eyes to find a girl in front of him with a razor to his
wrists. It was strange the first time; there was an
aura about her, a strange light coming from her. It was a dark, clouded color, something you’d
expect to find in someone’s vomit. It
was not a pretty color. She saw him, he could tell. The only thing he could think of to do was to
sing. He sang Nevertheless, she must’ve heard it. She’d pulled the razor away, and the aura
had turned to a bright, beautiful, neon green.
She smiled at him just as he fell back to his body. Many years later, he was at a signing venue,
and a good two hours in to the signing, he looked up randomly at a fan. The memory had hit him like a bullet; it was
the first girl he had ever saved.
Neither Bill nor the girl made a big fuss about it. They just stared at each other for long
seconds, remembering, smiling at each other as a special bond connected them. Then she was gone, to forever adore him as
her secret saver, and he would love her all the same, their bond special from
all the other fans, from all the others he ever saved. Bill smiled softly at
the memory. He was so exhausted after
sending his mind out that he would sleep in very late, if not the entire
day. Despite the promised exhaustion it
brought on, Bill loved it more than performing.
Nothing was better than saving a life. For the longest time, Bill remembered he
couldn’t even imagine what he would begin to feel like if he couldn’t save one
of these people he was sent to. Bill cringed. Now he knew. After almost a year and a half of performing
and saving lives, Bill came across the one young life he couldn’t save. ________ This
night was no different from any other night. Bill
went to bed early, because sometimes, if he were able to work quickly and
exceptionally, then he could save two lives instead of just one. Those mornings he woke up were the happiest
dawns of them all. He fell in to a deep
sleep as quickly as ever(which wasn’t very quick anyway), and for what seemed
like a couple of minutes, but truly hours in the real world, stayed stationary
in a dark world, where there was no sky, no sun, no grass, not even mud, which
Bill hated. There was pure
nothingness. It freaked him out in the
beginning, and still left him a little more uneasy that he would’ve liked sometimes,
but he’d gotten more used to it over the years, and he just waited patiently
for the picture to come. Just
like he expected, it did. It
started off very cloudy, very muted grays and blacks, darker than a lot of what
he’d encountered before. Usually he
would find himself in a dark room, or even a room with lights on, but this
time, the blistering, rough wind hinted that he was outside. This was a first for him. He hadn’t come outside in this state before. The picture slowly became clearer, and once
crystal clear, he didn’t really have to search for who he was looking for. For
she was literally standing right in front of him. Right
on the edge of what looked to be a tall building. Bill
examined her from behind, trying to get a better sense of what he was dealing
with. Her aura, he could already tell,
was supposed to be a very beautiful color.
But it was very ugly, very dark, very cloudy like a rainstorm that
wasn’t a pretty one. The cloudiness
fogged it intensely, but Bill saw there was a bluish undertone. The situation seemed more serious than usual;
Bill actually felt the flames of sorrow swirling all over her body, whipping
his very spirit. Bill knew the very song
to sing. It was a very new song, one
that had gone through many kinks and kwirks, and Bill and Tom were both
amazingly proud of it. A video had yet
been created for it, but Bill found this the perfect example and inspiration.
Once he awoke again, he would contribute this song to her, and create a music
video that showed his success to help her. “Über
den Dächern, ist es so kalt, und so still...” Bill began, singing both soft and
loud. The back of her head tilted up to
the sky. Bill didn’t know if that was a
sign as to whether she had heard him or not.
“Ich schweig Deinen Namen, weil Du ihn jetzt, nicht hören willst,” Bill
continued, waiting for her to turn around. This time, Bill could tell she’d heard him;
she turned her head right, looking very confused. The side of her face Bill saw was darkened in
shadow, leaving him still unaware as to what she looked like. “Der Abgrund der Stadt, verschlingt jede Träne
die fällt,” Bill persisted on, knowing she would soon turn to see him. He kept his energy low and sang gently so he
wouldn’t wear out in the middle of singing.
“Da unten ist nichts mehr, was Dich hier oben noch halt…” The girl finally turned around to see him
behind her. Her eyes grew wide with
shock, thinking she’d been caught. Bill
just kept singing. “Ich
schrei in die Nacht für Dich, lass Inside
his mind, Bill had never really doubted himself before this night. It usually didn’t take this long for a girl
or anyone for that matter to think this long and hard before putting themselves
out of danger. “In Deinen Augen, Scheint
alles sinnlos und leer…” The girl turned
back to the world down underneath her.
Bill took this moment to come up closer, taking a few timid steps toward
her, trying to keep his energy levels as low as possible so he wouldn’t wear
himself out. “Der
Schnee fällt einsam, Du spürst ihn schon lange nicht mehr.” He managed to peek down from where he stood
when he stopped. He looked to be about
twenty stories up. Now THAT was a ways
to fall. “Irgendwo da draussen, bist Du
verloren gegangen!” The girl looked back
at him, seeing him closer, a look of confusion and contemplation on her
face. “Du träumst von dem Ende, um
nochmal von vorn anzufangen!” he sang out to her, his face desperate and
pleading, begging her not to jump with his dark, shadowy eyes. She looked at him as if he had three heads,
and tears suddenly burst to her eyes. “Ich
schrei in die Nacht für Dich, Lass “Die
Lichter fangen Dich nicht, Sie betrügen Dich, Spring nicht!” She turned back to him and screamed
something. It was completely muted, but
Bill could tell very easily she was saying “Fuck you!” Time to bring out the big guns. “Erinner Dich!” Bill sang out as loud as he
possibly could. “An Dich und “Die
Welt da unten zählt nicht. Bitte spring
nicht! Spring nicht!!!” Bill looked at her, begging with her
silently. She screamed something again,
still inaudible. Bill guessed he had to
do something in order to hear, and hadn’t figured it out yet. Either way, she was very upset. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. But this was better than no emotion at all. He just wished she would get down from the
edge already. “Ich weiss nicht wie lang!”
he nearly cried. “Ich Dich halten kann! Ich weiss nicht wie lang!” He looked at her deeply, though she refused
to do so back. He gave her the look a
child would give their mother; one begging for love and forgiveness. “Nimm
meine Hand…” Bill held out his nearly transparent hand to her back, and she
looked at it with her very wide eyes.
“Wir fangen nochmal an…” he looked up at her pleadingly, begging her to
come down to him. “Spring nicht!” The girl seemed to suddenly have second
thoughts about her second thoughts, and turned away from him again, back to the
empty air that wouldn’t hold her up if she jumped. Bill’s heart caught in his throat. “ICH SCHREI IN DIE Nacht für Dich!” Bill sang
desperately, throwing out all caution as to not drain himself. He could not let this girl die. He would not think of it anymore. He would just sing. “Lass The
girl looked back at him again, tears cascading down her pale cheeks. Her eyes seemed to ask the question, “Will
YOU love me?” “Erinner Dich, an Dich und
And
then, the cloudiness lifted. Bill smiled hopefully as the ugly, grayish color
lifted from her aura, leaving a color of a glowing, heavenly blue. He
was right. Her
aura was beautiful. When
all the ugliness was finally cleared, with her dark hair swaying in the spiritual
wind and the glowing blue fire swirling around her, Bill thought she had to of
fallen from Heaven and she wanted to die so badly so she could go back. The faintest trace of a smile appeared on her
lips as she stared back at him. Never
had he been so horribly drained, but he forced his voice to stay clear. “Bitte
spring nicht,” he sang ever so softly.
“Spring nicht. Und halt Dich das
auch nicht zurück…” he held out his hand to her, still smiling lovingly and
encouragingly. “Dann spring ich für
Dich.” She
reached out and touched his hand gently, her fingers just brushing against his
own. Bill’s eyes widened in amazement
when he could actually feel her. For the
split second that they touched, the fire danced along him as well, swirling
with his own mind, becoming one with her.
Oh, what a feeling to be spiritually connected with another. It ended as soon as it had began, and Bill,
trying so very hard to push away the pull of the earth, suddenly felt very
sleepy but relaxed. The
pull of the earth came rushing upon him, but it took a couple seconds for it to
completely take him. She turned around
completely to face him. She wore a black
coat with a hood that flew up over her head when she turned. She stuffed her hands in to her pockets as if
she were suddenly warmed after being cold for a long time and Bill smiled,
knowing she was safe. She smiled too, thankfully,
lovingly, happily. Then
she just fell right the building. Bill
gasped and ran to the edge of the building, but he didn’t reach it. The pull of his body became too strong and he
fell into a deep sleep. ________ Bill sighed
miserably. He had worn out his mind so
drastically that he had slept for three days straight. When he finally did wake up, he checked the
internet and found in the news that a girl had jumped off a building two nights
ago. When he finally found a picture,
there was no question. It was the same
girl. He had never been able to mourn
her loss. Tokio Hotel’s buzz had been
growing phenomenally, and they were busier than ever with so many interviews
and concerts that Bill was surprised he was still able to breathe. But when all was quiet, and when he had
locked himself away in his bunk, the girl’s face would come to haunt him. He stayed like a bump on a log for a straight
week in his bunk, recalling. He stared
at the window, watching life pass by without that girl’s life in the picture of
it all. He wondered what could’ve
happened for her to feel so helpless, so ready to give up life, and so happy to
do it. He’d come to the conclusion over
that week that the reason she was so happy when she jumped is that someone
cared about her enough to ask her not to jump.
And she wanted to die with someone caring about her. He’d found out her name too. Eliza. Bill could only sigh
again. Now whenever he sang
that song, all he could think of was the one girl he couldn’t save. Still, he kept his promise. He made the video in No one, not even the director, understood
the ending except him. A lot of people also questioned the fact
that for a short period in the video, the camera focused on a particular girl
who was at the scene of Bill jumping.
Many people wondered if there was some significance about her, if she
was someone important. Others just
shrugged her off to being another extra. No. She was very important. A normal girl, nonetheless, a fan of Tokio
Hotel, an up and coming actress named Monika Alexander. She was a happy girl. Bill had chosen a few of the extras with the
director and other producers. He picked
her specifically. With her long brown
hair and pale, oval face, Bill would’ve thought it was Eliza had he not seen
her eyes. They were a plain brown. Not vibrant green. Bill nearly had a heart attack on seeing
Monika, but once over his shock, he stood up and demanded that she be the
part. It was a good call on his
part. She was a convincible character,
though her roll was short. It didn’t
matter. It almost seemed as if Eliza
were there with him on the set and in the video. Bill looked up in to
the sky. It was getting dark quick. His mom would be worrying. Sure, they were gone for months, sometimes
years, at a time on tours, but when they were home, if they weren’t in the
house mom would go ballistic. Only Tom
knew that he was a big boy and could take care of himself. Bill sighed a third time. He needed to take a walk to think about stuff
more often. He was beginning to
turn back when he heard an engine come up and slow behind him. Bill turned around and saw a big white van
with a big burly man in the driver’s seat, wearing all black and even black
gloves. And he was staring directly at Bill. Bill blinked. Never before in his life had he ever really
been paranoid, but this was a little creepy for his taste. Bill turned around slowly and began walking
again, just a little faster than before.
The van trailed close behind, and each time Bill glanced back, the man
in the front was still staring at him.
Bill couldn’t remember the last time he was stalked as bluntly as
this. Especially not by a man like that
guy. Countless girls had done so, but
never so straightforward or driving something that could make his very
existence on the earth disappear. Bill walked faster. The van kept up. He walked faster. The van followed suit. He broke out in to a small jog. The van sped up. Bill picked up the pace. So did the van. It got to the point where Bill was in a full
blown-out run, long legs pounding the concrete as the van kept up with him
still. Bill’s heart was racing in his
chest, his lungs feeling as if they were about to collapse. His mind couldn’t think, unable to process
that if he were to veer off towards one of the houses near him, he could lose
them. All he could feel was the fear,
and all he could think of was running.
Bill flipped out his cell phone to call 911. His fingers couldn’t
press it in time. The van sped forward
and blocked Bill’s path, making him collide with the van’s side door. He groaned loudly at the contact as his frail
body slammed up against the hard white side of the vehicle seconds before the
door slid open with a force unknown to man. Darkness became Bill’s world as a
bag was thrown over his head. “NO!” Bill
screeched as loud as possible when four arms grabbed him. “LET ME GO!
LET ME GO NOW!” The arms ignored
him, dragging him into the darkness of the van as Bill screamed, kicked,
wrestled, and fought, refusing to go.
Then the van door closed, and he was at the mercy of the collector’s
henchmen.
Posted on 11/03/2008 8:11 AM Comments (3)
October 9, 2008Corners of the Mind(Kidnapped Sequel(Second and last attempt))Well, I've learned MY lesson... I know it's been SOOOOOOOO effing long since I've posted, but lemme tell you, I've learned my lesson quite clearly. My parents were threatening to kick me off this site (for a stupid reason not even I'M capable of understanding) but apparently, now I'm allowed back on. Yea, don't ask me what's going on with them. Anyways, I've learned just how important this site is to me, so I'm gonna start posting absolutely every single second I have a new chapter. Can't talk long, my mom's forcing me to go to bed. Anywho, here's chapter 16 of Corners of the Mind. I promise I'll update more often and explain more stuff later! Chapter 16 – House Call When Bill woke up, he kept his eyes closed for a very long time. It
was because his eyes felt like they were being burned by light. He just didn’t want to open them. He could sense a presence in his room. He knew he was home; he’d recognize his
mattress, covers, and pillows anywhere.
He knew the presence was Dave. He
was waiting for him to wake up. What
would he say to him? What does one say
to a person you’ve been a complete ass to?
“I’m sorry? Can you please forgive
me for being the biggest dickhead on the face of the earth?” That didn’t sound right at all. Oh god, what, what, what, what, WHAT
could he say to show how sorry he was? Okay, just open your eyes, Bill thought
to himself. Just . . . say sorry. Say,
flat-out, you are so, so sorry. Just
keep saying you’re sorry. With an inward sigh of courage, Bill finally opened his eyes. And gasped. Sitting on Tom’s bed was a man, with blonde hair and big, meaty arms. On his monstrous left arm there was an intricate tattoo of a dragon. The Dragon grinned sickly. Bill screamed shrilly. The Dragon had come for him, just like Bill knew he would. _________ Bill’s entire body jerked hard as he woke from his dream, snapping his head to the right towards Tom’s bed. He screamed when he saw a man, not The Dragon, but a different man, one he’d never seen before, sat in his place. The man jumped at Bill’s reaction to his presence as Bill jumped to his knees in his bed. Bill blinked hard, trying to clear his eyes of burning pain as he stared at the man, who was middle-aged and had on glasses. He was about to question the strange man sitting on his brother’s bed when the burn in his eyes became too unbearable. Hissing softly, Bill finally realized the cause of his pain. Someone had opened his curtains again. Bill darted forward and swiped his thick sunglasses off the night table next to him, putting them on. “Bill?” the man asked when Bill could finally see. The man was starting to get up. “Stay the fuck away from me!” Bill ordered. His hand disappeared under his pillow and reappeared just as quickly. No one knew he hid a knife under his pillow every night. The man stopped and stared at Bill calmly. “Bill, put the knife down,” the man said. “MOOOOOMMM!” Bill screeched, still holding the knife up with shaky hands. “Don’t you fucking come near me! You stay right there!” Bill looked at his closed door. “MOOOOOOOOOOM!” “WHAT?! What, what, what?!” Simone pounced in to the room with wide eyes. Bill looked at the man and so did Simone. “Oh my god,” she said softly. “Bill. Bill honey, put the knife down. Put the knife down sweetie; he isn’t going to hurt you.” “Who the hell is he?!” Bill demanded as Simone came over to him and tried to pull the knife away. “And what is he doing on Tom’s bed?!” “Do forgive me Bill,” the man said calmly. “I shouldn’t have just come in like that while you were sleeping. I do apologize Mrs. Trümper. I should’ve thought more clearly.” “Bill, this is Dr. Hammünd,” Simone said as she managed to slowly pry the knife from Bill’s fingers. “I called him a couple of days ago so you guys could talk.” “You got me a psychiatrist?!” Bill cried. Why couldn’t his mother just let him alone?! “He’s a therapist,” Simone corrected her son. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to find someone you could talk to.” “Therapists, psychiatrists, they’re the same freaking thing!” Bill yelled at his mother. “On the contrary Bill,” Dr. Hammund started, turning the attention of mother and son on him. “They’re two very different things. Think of it as that old saying: “Same book, wrong chapter.”” “Honey, I just want you to talk to Dr. Hammund for just a FEW minutes,” Simone said, walking towards the door with the knife in her hand. “But mom!” Bill started. “Bill, please do it,” Simone said. “But I don’t want to talk to him mom!!” “Then let him do the talking,” Simone said, closing the door. “Bitch,” Bill hissed through his teeth, wishing he could slap his mother. Bill turned to the doctor, who sat very calmly and looking at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. Bill slapped his back against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, glaring at the doctor. “Get off Tom’s bed,” Bill ordered, his eyes fuming with set hate. “I thought first we could have a small chat Bill,” Dr. Hammund said. “I don’t want to chat,” Bill said. “I want you out of our room. NOW.” “Your mother tells me that you’ve pretty much throw your singing career away from boxing Bill,” Dr. Hammünd started as if Bill had said nothing. “Don’t you like singing?” Bill didn’t answer. Part of the reason he didn’t answer was because he didn’t like this man and he wanted him off Tom’s bed and out of their room. But another part was because Bill had noticed how long it had been since he’d sung at all. Bill thought hard, set to prove this man on Tom’s bed wrong, trying to think of the last time he’d sang to someone, anyone, himself even. It had been a good while. Not since . . . Tom was taken. Before he was taken. Their last concert together. Bill sat in a miserable silence, wanting nothing more than to sing his heart out that second. “She also tells me that you haven’t been talking to her. Are you mad at her, Bill?” Bill flinched. Did he HAVE to say his name after every other sentence as if he were his friend? “What else has my mother told you?” Bill barked at Dr. Hammünd. “That I’m planning to kill myself? That I have a suicide partner or a few of them? Oh yeah, we’re just a huge fucking clan and we’re going to hang ourselves soon but as long as we go out together, we’ll be fine!” Bill had so much sarcasm in his voice that Dr. Hammünd almost wasn’t able to tell if he was telling the truth or not. “She said the exact same thing about Tom, and I hate her because of it! When I was taken and being tortured by that asshole, the woman I loved and I knew as my mother changed into that bitch that doesn’t know shit and is lying! She’s lying! SHE’S LYING!” “Why are you so angry, Bill?” Dr. Hammünd asked calmly as if that small rant hadn’t come out of Bill at all. “I FUCKING WANT YOU OFF TOM’S BED!” Bill roared. Dr. Hammünd stood up obediently. Bill let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in as he stared at the doctor’s calm face. “Is that better Bill?” he asked. Bill growled low in his throat but said nothing, just nodded once. “Now I want you out of our room,” Bill rumbled dangerously. “I’ll leave in a minute Bill,” Dr. Hammünd said. He put his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle filled with red capsule pills. Bill recoiled like a snake. “I’m not crazy,” Bill snapped. “No one ever said that Bill,” Dr. Hammünd interrupted. “I’ve just been stressed,” Bill continued. “I know Bill,” he said. “But just take these. It’ll make you feel better. I promise you Bill.” Seeing that Bill wasn’t going to take them, he placed them on Bill’s night table and smiled at him. “It was nice meeting you Bill,” Dr. Hammünd said. “I hope to see you again soon.” Fat fucking chance, Bill thought to himself as Dr. Hammünd finally left. Bill let out another huge breath he’d been holding in. At that instant though, Bill leapt out of his bed and ran to his door. He pressed his ear against it. He didn’t hear Dr. Hammünd. Good. He opened it ever so softly, trying to not make any noise, then closed it behind him and crept to the edge of the stairs. There he saw Dr. Hammünd and his mother sitting on the couch. “Anything you can tell me Dr. Hammünd?” Simone asked. Bill knew he was a fucking psychiatrist. “Bill’s depressed,” Dr. Hammünd said flat out. “Very. As you can imagine, it’s been brought on by not only his own kidnapping, but his brother’s as well.” I’M NOT DEPRESSED! Bill thought angrily. I’M PISSED THE FUCK OFF! “But he has bipolar-like symptoms,” Dr. Hammünd said. Bill blinked in outrageous insult. “He can go from being scared one second, then to angry, then to sad, and then all the way back through the cycle.” Bill was about to throw a picture frame at his bald head when Dr. Hammünd continued talking. “But do not let it scare you. It’s normal depression mood swings. From the talk I’ve had with him, he’s not a very trusting person anyways. And he does not like people messing with him or his brother. For example, he didn’t even make a mention to what I was doing in his room. He didn’t even label it “his” room. All he could understand was that I was on Tom’s bed. That’s all that was in his mind.” Bill lowered the picture frame in his hand. Nuh-uh! Bill thought angrily. That was NOT that was all in my mind. And it’s true; it’s BOTH Tom’s and my room. Bill was honestly surprised that Dr. Hammünd hadn’t mentioned how he’d called his mother a bitch yet. “But there’s one thing that I sensed that bothers me,” Dr. Hammünd said. Oh boy, here it comes. “I think he’s angry about something else as well.” Bill and Simone both blinked. “What do you mean?” Simone asked. “He doesn’t talk much about Tom, maybe that’s--” “No, it’s not that,” Dr. Hammünd interrupted her. “I take it that he’s hiding something.” Bill’s breath caught in his throat. His mind ability. “I think that he
might’ve seen more than he’s letting on.
Something very stressing that he could possibly dream of. Yes, he’s lost his brother but I sense this
is something different; it wasn’t that kind of close. It was a different close, as if it were the
death of a close friend. Did you know if
he knew anyone that he was very close to that may have died within the past few
years?” No, I fucking haven’t, Bill said. Ha. Shows
how much of a doctor you are. “What does a close friend dying have to do with Tom?” Simone asked. “Many of my patients have experienced loss one way or another,” Dr. Hammünd explained. “Some more than others. I’ve often seen patients lose someone, but not express any mourning or loss because they weren’t ready to or for other reasons. When they lose someone else, in Bill’s case, Tom, they express the loss of both persons. In Bill’s case, I believe that he lost someone dear to him, but didn’t show his mourning for them and told no one about knowing or losing them. And now that’s he’s lost Tom, he’s expressing the loss of both his brother AND this person.” Bill sucked in his breath and his heart stopped. Her face suddenly came back to him with a vengeance. Bill didn’t want to listen to any more, but his legs wouldn’t work. “What do you suggest I do, doctor?” Simone asked as Bill’s body threatened to collapse on him. “Don’t ask him about it,” Dr. Hammünd said. “If he finds out you know ANYTHING about this information I just told you, you may never speak to your son again.” Shockingly (Bill seemed to be getting a lot of surprises that day), he understood what Dr. Hammünd meant. But it became apparent that his mother did not. “What do you mean by that?” Simone asked. “I mean that Bill will put up such a strong wall to block everyone out that not you, your husband, I, not even Tom could bring him back.” Bill, having heard more than enough, staggered to his room and closed the door. He went to the window and snapped the curtains shut, enveloping the room in darkness. Bill took off his thick, thick sunglasses and walked numbly over to Tom’s bed. There he slipped under the covers and breathed in Tom’s lingering cologne. He took in his brother’s smell, calming him to a numb-like state. Bill had almost forgotten the dream. He had almost forgotten her face. But fate kept reminding him. Kept reminding him of what he couldn’t do. Bill bit his lips hard and pressed his hands against his forehead, burying himself deeper in to Tom’s pillow. What he wouldn’t give to just forget what happened . . .
Posted on 10/09/2008 7:59 PM Comments (1)
August 22, 2008Corners of the Mind (Kidnapped Sequel(Second and last attempt))
Well, with the insisting of my best buddy Noora, I decided it has been a little long since I posted a new chapter, so here's a new one.
Oh and BTW Noora, I hope you read this soon, because this is the chapter that has your surprise! But promise you won't read ahead; you'll reach the surprise in time. Chapter 15 – Jina Bill saw a familiar pale hand, holding a bloody-tipped whip, raising, about to strike. Insane animalistic protection over his brother kicked in with the darkest vengeance possible. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Bill roared. He remembered the days, the weeks that he was in so much pain, put on him by the same man who had somehow escaped certain death. He was so fucking angry that the word ‘enraged’ was an understatement. A very big one at that. “LEAVE! HIM! ALOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNEE!!!!” Bill felt a very strange pop in his head. As if it were a command, the whip was suddenly sliced into ribbons as easily as a tomato, still in the palm of the pale hand. “What the hell?” the same voice asked as the hand released the pile of lank leather. Tom continued to cry, still in so much agony. Before consciousness hit, Bill was allowed a quick flash of Tom’s back. The shirt was pretty much peeled away, and so was Tom’s skin. ________ Bill snapped out the dream quicker than he thought he would. He felt very dizzy, very breathless, and the room was spinning. There were faces above him, but they all started out blurry. God, it was so very bright. Why was it so freaking bright? Bill blinked a few more times, but all he saw was that burning light. “Hey,” said a soft voice. “Are you okay?” He heard more voices. “Is he awake?” “What happened?” “Someone call 911!” “Is there a doctor here anywhere?” “Oh my god, that’s Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel!” “Get him some water!” Bill hissed in growing pain, covering his eyes from the light. That’s when he realized his sunglasses had fallen off. “My sunglasses,” Bill said, reaching blindly. “Please, I need my sunglasses.” Something was immediately put in his hand, and he was thankful to feel it was the item he’d asked for. Once on, he looked around at the towers that were people hovering over him. The one face closest to him made his breath catch. A heart-shaped face with beautiful olive skin was inches from his own. Long dark brown hair pulled back in to a messy ponytail, but it looked adorable. She had two perfect, luscious lips that formed a natural beautiful pout, but her eyes were so very breathtaking. Two orbs of burnt honey, almost golden, contrasted with her skin amazingly, looked at him with the worry and concern of a lover. Bill blinked. Did he know this girl? Why was she looking at him like that? Why did she look so worried? “Hey,” she said softly, in a beautiful tone of voice that he thought could only exist in a place called Heaven. God, everything about her was gorgeous. “Are you okay?” Bill nodded once. She smiled softly. She had a face that was made to smile. “Can you sit up?” she asked, just as softly as before. She went to touch him, and Bill hesitated. She wasn’t real. There was no way someone could be that caring and beautiful. No; she was The Dragon. He was tricking him. He was going to rape him again. But before Bill could protest, she placed one hand on his chest and another on his arm and helped him sit up. Bill blinked when she didn’t transform. Her hands. They were so soft. So gentle and thin. How could someone be that gentle? It just didn’t make sense! “Are you hurt?” she asked as the other people stared at him like he was some kind of specimen. “Get him up off the floor.” “Sit him in a chair.” Two stronger, meatier hands grabbed him from his armpits, and Bill yelped slightly. “Come on lad, that’s a good one now,” said a man with a very thick Irish accent. He sat him down in a chair in the food court like a small child before Bill could fully react. Though when he did let go Bill did breathe a little easier. Everyone around began offering him their drinks, some aspirin, even the man with the Irish accent offered “a back massage that turned me ol’ auntie Nahrah in ta a yunger woman, it did.” The girl that had originally been on the floor with Bill saw that Bill was very, VERY uncomfortable with all the attention. So with the lie that she was his girlfriend, she sent them off, leaving the two in a peace that wasn’t exactly peace since everyone that hadn’t come was still staring at them. Bill blinked at the girl. She had said that they were going out. He knew there was a catch. But he couldn’t help but realize a small feeling of comfort at the thought. Like he had come home. Whatever THAT was now. Bill, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t noticed that the girl had left and come back with a McDonalds tray of food. He blinked, looking down at the overflowing tray of food and drinks, then looked back up at the girl. She sat in the chair across from him and there was a single moment of uncomfortable silence between them as they stared at each other. Bill couldn’t stop blinking. Who the hell was she? He’d seen Madde before, in his dreams, in his thoughts. She looked exactly like her. Her hair. Her skin. Her eye color. Her body type. The only difference was the emotion in her eyes. Instead of heated rage, an intense emotion of concern and love swirled in those golden eyes. His mind was just so very numb he couldn’t focus or think of anything else. “Uh . . .” the girl started unsurely. “I didn’t know what you liked.” Bill blinked again. What was she talking about? “I just got pretty much one of everything on the menu. Help yourself.” Bill looked down at the food as if it were fish heads. He hadn’t eaten McDonalds in a long time. When was the last time he had eaten McDonalds? It was . . . before Tom was taken. God, why did things have to change? Bill had scarfed down about half the tray when the girl spoke up again. “Ummmm . . .” she started. Bill looked up at her with bits of burger and nuggets falling from his mouth. She blinked at him, obviously trying to be polite. “You were hungry, weren’t you?” she asked, trying to sound humorous. Not really, Bill had thought to himself. But when he realized just how gross he must’ve looked, he nodded miserably. He forced down the rest of what was in his mouth and didn’t touch the food afterward. When she thought it was safe, the girl carefully picked up the last few untouched items and ate them slowly as Bill stared at the tile floor in disgust. He wanted to go home. He wanted to disappear into his room, lock the door, and sleep in Tom’s bed. He hadn’t slept in Tom’s bed in how many years? Too many. Not since his parents’ divorce. Bill felt tears drip from his cheeks. He hated the thing that he had become. He thought the girl was talking to him, but he could only hear muffled voices. The buzz and light of the food court dimmed. Everything sounded and looked muddled. What had he changed into? Where was the real Bill? The Bill who loved to perform on stage, to feel that love coursing from every person that was there, screaming there adoration for him? The Bill who loved to sing? The Bill who loved making a statement? The Bill who loved smiling? Would he ever see him again? Bill leaned forward, hiding his face in his thin knees. And actually cried. Not just the stray tear either. He sobbed loud, hard, and whole. He wept out the stress, the anger, and bitterness. He cried a blackened waterfall of rage, hurt, sorrow, and betrayal. He wailed out the loss of his brother, the hardened state of mind that had become this monster that had taken over him. He cried out his thoughts, his fears, and his ugliness. Bill, the real Bill, the Bill everyone knew and loved; he drained out the animal he had become from the tears that were his own. He wanted his fans. He wanted his mom. He wanted Gordon. He wanted Dave, Georg, Gustav, Saki, his makeup and hair designers. But most of all, he wanted Tom. He felt someone picking him up. He was crying too hard to fight. He heard screaming. Bill looked up. He recognized that screaming. That was the screaming of love. Of adoration. That was the screaming of his fans. He saw a group of girls he had run in to before running after him, screaming for him, screaming at the man to put him down. A man was carrying him? Bill looked back through tear-clogged eyes and saw the man with the thick Irish accent was carrying him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Bill already knew he wouldn’t hurt him. Bill looked back at the fans. They were running after him, reaching out their hands for him. Bill reached out and grabbed as many of their hands as he could, pulling them along. They held his hands tight, holding him as if they would never let go. Bill stared at one particular girl his hands had clasped with who had a cute camouflaged page-boy hat. She was beautiful. Underneath the cap was a cute oval, tanned face of an Iraqi, with big gentle brown eyes and luscious lips. She looked a little like Madde, but the hair, a dark, dark red of gentle waves down to her shoulders, eye color, and cheeks were different. Nonetheless, she was still pretty. Bill suddenly realized a nametag upon her red sweater: My
name is: Noora Through every part of their skin that touched, he could feel the undying devotion that he felt from every fan at his concerts. He smelled the perfume on her skin, the shampoo in her hair, the lotion on her hands. Every scent, every sound, every second their hands were clasped together did he feel the familiar electric love, the familiar deification he felt and heard on stage, singing loud, clear, side by side with Tom. He suddenly wanted to know everything about her. Where she lived, what she was doing at this mall, what her family was like, why she was the fan of a coward who didn’t even want to sing sometimes anymore . . . Bill’s entire body went completely numb and his thin fingers fell away from the girl’s hand as he was whisked away in to a beat-up pickup truck, only hearing the loving screams from his fans behind him. Soon though, the screams disappeared, and a voice he barely recognized whispered in to his ear. “Where do you live?” it asked. A simple question, but his mind was such a blank that he couldn’t even remember. The only thing that came to mind was ‘home.’ “I wanna go home,” he managed to mumble. “Please take me home. Please. Please. Please.” “Shhhhhhh,” she whispered comfortingly. “It’s okay. We’re taking you home. It’s okay.” Bill looked up in to the girl’s eyes. She was so beautiful. He didn’t remember the last time he had seen such a beautiful girl. His head was on her lap. She was so soft, so comfortable. She was perfect. But he knew that face. He knew it was Madde. There was no possible way it couldn’t have been Madde. “I’m Jina,” the girl said. Bill looked at her strangely. Jina? That wasn’t Madde’s name. Tom had even told him her real name; Nina. It was close, hell, it rhymed; but it wasn’t Nina. “Where do you live?” she asked again softly. Bill thought hard before finally coming up with an address. With that said, she scratched his scalp gently, sending tingling sensations through his spine, calming him delightfully. With a small sigh, Bill reached into his back pocket and took out his cell phone. He punched a quick-dial number and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” came the voice he suddenly missed so much. “Dave?” Bill asked weakly. “Bill?” his manager asked. “Is that you? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Dave, please,” Bill whispered, weak from the tears. “Bring Georg and Gustav. Come to my house. I want to see you guys.” “We’ll be right there Bill,” Dave said reassuringly. “I promise.” Bill sighed thankfully and hung up his phone without saying goodbye. His friends, his family would be coming soon. They would be coming, they’d take him away, and they’d protect him from becoming what he became before. Dave wouldn’t let him down. Right? Ta-da! I hope you liked your surprise Noora! It's not everyday one of the biggest fans of Tokio Hotel gets to confort the lead singer of the band by a chance school trip!
Posted on 08/22/2008 7:22 PM Comments (7)
July 27, 2008Corners of the Mind(Kidnapped Sequel(Second and last attempt))Chapter 14 – Why Did Things Have to
Change? The mall. He hadn’t been to one for so long that it looked like he hadn’t ever stepped into this thing called “mall.” He hated how before the mall was one of his favorite places to go and now he felt as if he didn’t belong at all. The only place he felt like he belonged now was at the dojo. When did THAT happen? Why did things have to change? Bill walked awkwardly, slowly, as if he didn’t know where he was supposed to go. That was the problem. He really didn’t know where he was supposed to go. People went to malls to shop. Right? What did he want to shop for? Bill drew a blank on that one. Well, what did he want? Again, a blank. Okay, what about what he needed? . . . . . He did need new gloves. And Eddie had told him about this protein powder that would help his muscles build too. Okay, so he had a small list going. But it was better than nothing. With a sigh of determination, Bill marched off to find the products he needed. He had forgotten that he was one of the main faces of Tokio Hotel. Fans everywhere stopped, dropped their bags and screamed, running to him and trapping him in death hug crying their eyes out. They blubbered apologizes about his brother and said that they were there for him. He also dealt with them in three and fours, so he was stuck there in all that stress for at least twenty minutes. By the end of two hours, he’d dealt with 6 groups of three to four girls (with a few boys), and he was to the point that if he saw one more fan or if one more person brought up Tom he was going to beat the shit out of someone. Bill’s strides had become quick, passionate, angry. His breath had quickened, and his face said something along the lines of the very simple words “Fuck off.” Who the hell did they think they were? They didn’t know him. They didn’t know Tom. They didn’t know shit about them. Why did they keep coming up and bothering him? Since they knew him so well, didn’t they know he was already stressed enough without seeing their tears? Caught in his buzz of annoyed frustration, Bill accidentally bumped in to something. It was smaller than him, and he was so frustrated that he barked out a four letter word that everyone knew to be bad. It was when he stared into the large brown eyes of the child he’d walked in to that his anger disappeared. He blinked, the annoyance and frustration gone, but he was in a state of numb shock as he stared at this frightened child, no older than six. She was a pretty little thing, beautiful in fact. With delicate features, very pale skin, and bright blond hair, one could construe her as an angel from heaven. The look she gave Bill made every muscle in his body stop for just a complete second. When she ran to her mother in fear, Bill watched her go, wanting to say sorry for the word he’d said, try to make her smile, make her laugh, but he was stuck. It was at the very second that he realized just how much he had changed. What had he become? When was he suddenly unsympathetic to fans who were worried about him and Tom? When had he suddenly become this machine that only knew how to fight? When had he become this emotionless person that didn’t have any other talent than to know how to hurt people? When had he suddenly started hating his fans? Bill thought he was going to cry right then and there. Who was this person? He felt a sob coming on and tried to hold it in. Was this . . . Madde? Bill had to sit down. He shakily stalked over to a table and sat down, resting his suddenly very weary limbs. Bill saw now that ever since the dojo he had looked at everything in the world as if it were vile, ugly, and disgusting. He hated almost everything and everyone, even himself. He used to be so happy before. Was Madde ever that happy, like he was? He was so happy before everything happened. It was him and the world, taking on everyone who didn’t accept them. He was surrounded by people who loved him, adored him to the very bone. He loved them all just as much; he didn’t know that much love could exist in just one person. Every family member, every friend, every fan. All of them he loved with his whole heart; he’d loved them more if it was possible. Then it all changed. He was suddenly so scared. He was scared of everything. He was scared of showing off his body with the clothes he wore. He was scared to make a statement to wherever he went. He was scared of large crowds that he didn’t have distance between himself and all those people. He was scared of taking a fucking shower. He was scared of everything and everyone he came in to contact with that wasn’t a very, VERY familiar face. And now he was so angry. All the time, he was angry. He hated everyone. He wanted to hurt people. Even kill some. And in the literal term too. It wasn’t one of those sarcastic, belittled, humorous, “Oh sometimes I wish I could just strangle him” things. There were times that he wanted to shed the blood of a person so badly he would go out in to the street and start a fistfight for nothing. Since the dojo came in to play, it only made his goal closer. He had a vendetta against everyone. Bill became dizzy. He put his head down on the table, basking in the relieving darkness of his hands. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to calm his whirling mind. Something wet dropped on to his hand. He lifted his head slightly, and saw very much to his surprise that it was a tear. He wiped his eyes carefully, as if he didn’t know how to react to the tears. When was the last time he had cried? Over anything? It felt so long. He had cried for so long at times, and now he hadn’t done it in such a long time. But the reason wasn’t because he was happy. No, he was far from happy. He was so angry and numb at the same time that he couldn’t produce tears. Oh god, Bill thought, putting his head down again. What have I become? The part that worried him the most was that Tom was in love with a person that was exactly like him. Tom. Bill knew that with his recalled power, he would be visiting Tom much more often. If he could stomach it. Bill looked to his right at a Macy’s store. Inside, he caught the sight of a girl with long brown hair, falling to her lower back. Bill blinked. That hair. That hair was familiar. Why was he so dizzy all of a sudden? Bill closed his eyes. Memories raced through his mind like a camera’s flash going too fast. Tom. Himself. Georg. Gustav. David. Confused faces. Screams. Blood. Tears. More screams. Terrified faces, faces, faces, faces going by so fast he couldn’t see who they were. The faint shadow of a dragon. Oh god, so many faces. There were too many! Madde’s sweaty face flew at him, her arms outstretched and reaching for him, looking like a beautiful superhero flying to his rescue. Bill’s eyelids snapped open. It felt like something has taken a hold of him. Something so powerful. Something so strong . . . something so enraged. It was thick, ugly, disgusting rage. Bill didn’t even feel like it was him anymore. This wasn’t his anger. No. This was something so much more. So much more utter hate. He could taste it on his tongue, smell it when he inhaled, felt it settle in his lungs like tar from cigarettes, feel it flutter off his eyelashes like ash when he blinked. Covering his body like thick grease, unable to wash off. But OH did it feel SO, so fucking good, so eclectically orgasmic . . . Bill nearly tore off the Macy’s door. He almost didn’t feel surprised when the door was torn from one of its hinges, leaving it dangling off the wall. All he could feel was the rage. The rage taking over his soul, pumping his muscles, making his heart louder with each beat, making the blood rush in his veins. He stormed up to the girl with the long brown hair and grabbed her shoulder. He whirled her around so forcefully that she lost her balance. She gasped, nearly falling in her tangled feet; Bill was the only thing keeping her up. His torn nails pierced her shirt, and the girl screamed. She screamed words, but Bill couldn’t understand what she was saying. All he could feel was that finger-licking good but absolutely bitter rage. But as he stared into her frightened eyes, he suddenly wanted to scream. It took a few minutes to realize he was. He was screaming so loud that the girl was screaming with him, but nothing compared to his wail. Along with the ludicrous rage, he felt shock he couldn’t even begin to take in to comprehension, very forward disbelief, utter confusion, and very, very hollow coldness. It was too much stress. He blacked out, toppling on the girl who looked exactly like Madde. Oh if you think things are interesting now, wait until you read the rest of this shit. XXD
Posted on 07/27/2008 10:24 PM Comments (6)
June 29, 2008Corners of the Mind(Kidnapped Sequel(Second and last attempt))Chapter 13 – Not the Bill Tom loved Bill woke in very inattentive layers. He first realized that after what seemed like a lifetime of numbness, he was beginning to feel very heavy. Then his sense of smell returned, and it was reacting to something familiarly good. He got heavier, and heavier, and colder, and colder, and colder. Then the blackness that had enveloped him turned to a very blurry grey mashed with other even blurrier colors. A pain set in his head. The grey was turning to white, and that white was getting very bright. The pain in his temples got worse. Burning his eyes. Bill hissed and pulled the covers over his face. Who opened the fucking curtains again?! He reached blindly out of the covers and groped for the sunglasses he kept on his night table. Once finding them, he put them on under the covers and got out from under the covers. He sighed. So much better. He had seen plenty of doctors for his eyes, and they all said that it was just something he had to deal with if he didn’t want surgery. He most DEFINITELY did not want surgery. Just like everything else in his life, he’d have to deal with it. Then the phone next to him began to rang. Bill looked at it grumpily and examined the name on the screen. Jost. He snatched the phone up and answered it as he snapped the curtains closed. “What’s up Dave?” he spoke in to the phone, trying not to sound too agitated. “Hey Bill,” his manager greeted simply. “Listen um, I was talking with some agents and we were thinking about some new dates and I thought you might like to get breakfast with the guys and go over them. My treat.” Bill was so glad that he wasn’t speaking to him in person when he flinched. He knew that Georg and Gustav were probably waiting on the other end of the line as well, eavesdropping from David’s home cordless phones around the house, pacing as they listened for his answer. “Dave, you remember what I said,” Bill stated as calmly as possible. “No more future dates. Not until Tom is back.” “I know, but these are far off future dates,” David said. “Like, months, almost a year ahead. And think of your fans. They miss their singer.” “If they were true fans, they would know to wait,” Bill snapped in to the phone. “And what about Tom’s fans? They care about him a lot, just as much as my fans do. What would they think if I went along and continued to sing without him as if nothing had happened? What do you think would cross their minds if I just continued on with tour dates with that dude in Tom’s place?” He was talking about the temporary main guitarist, whose name was Stefan, but Bill didn’t give a shit enough to remember. David had known the second he had picked up the phone that Bill would be like this, just like Tom had when Alex, the possibility for their new front man, had come in to the picture. They were brothers, the closest David had ever seen, and if they felt that if something they did would somehow hurt or betray the other, they wouldn’t risk the very thought. Except when they were arguing. And even then, as violent as they would get, David sensed that these fights just bound them closer together. He didn’t understand it, maybe he never would. Sometimes he hoped he never did. Thank god he was an only child. “I’m not looking at any dates,” Bill said almost bitterly. “Not until Tom is home.” With that, an extra forceful click echoed in David’s, Georg’s, and Gustav’s ears making them all yank the phone away once done. With the phone call from his manager, Bill suddenly felt very claustrophobic and had to get out. He was starting to get in his sweat pants that he always wore when he left for the dojo, but paused as he slipped one thin foot into the item. He had been going to the dojo obsessively for the past month. Anyone who had a brain stem knew that they would find him at the dojo now. God knows how many times Georg, Gustav, or Jost had come looking for Bill at the dojo, just about ready to drag his ass home. Twice David and Eddie had gotten violent, but no charges were ever pressed against anyone. As serious as it was to David, Bill thought it was the most hilarious thing to see Dave and Eddie butt heads. Each time he cracked up laughing. But there was one specific incident that made Bill want to make his travels to the dojo a secret again. And hide if he ever saw one of his band mates or manager. It was nighttime, and Bill and Dave were going to the hospital on account of Bill get a possible cracked rib and another broken finger. As Eddie and Bill had walked to Eddie’s car, Bill saw Dave come up, ripping and roaring to get Bill into the car. It was one of the worst experiences of his life watching the man he’d seen as a father figure for five years get so angry. At one point of the argument between Eddie and Dave, his manager turned to him, livid. “And you,” Dave had growled, glaring at Bill. “Where’s the Bill I know? Where’s the Bill that loved performing and singing to thousands of fans?” “That Bill is gone!” Bill snapped. “Well then the Bill Tom loved is gone too!” “DON’T YOU DARE talk about Tom!” Bill had screamed. “I know you’re scared for him Bill!” Dave exclaimed. “But that’s no reason to change who you are just to hide the fact that you’re afraid!” “SHUT UP!” Bill screeched. “I’M NOT AFRAID! I’LL TAKE YOU ON WITH BOTH HANDS BEHIND MY FUCKING BACK! I’M! NOT! AFRAID!” “What do you call this then?!” Dave asked, motioning to Bill’s bruised body. “I’m doing something productive unlike those bitches that call themselves cops!” Bill screamed. “So don’t tell me how to run my life!” With that, Bill had stormed into Eddie’s car and they were driving away within two seconds. With this thought, Bill slipped on his tightest jeans, threw on his second favorite shirt (h |
One tear fell idly from her green eye, but he
knew now it wasn’t a tear of sadness or disbelief. Her aura was brighter and more
beautiful than ever.