Author: letitbexo PM
He's ready. He's set. He's going to take them down for all of their wrongdoings against him in the name of revenge. Everything goes haywire, of course, when an old childhood friend comes in and tries to teach him about forgiveness. UPDATED 9/23/2012Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Hurt/Comfort - Alex - Chapters: 11 - Words: 25,732 - Reviews: 25 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 09-22-12 - Published: 06-05-11 - id: 7055336
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey everyone. See, I can update a lot faster now! ;) Thanks to TheWeaselyBoys and Dan Sickles for the much needed support. Dan, yes, Riley is a bit annoying, lol!
Well, on with the show!
That Casey narrows his blue glazzies at me, and didn't reply at all to my fellow greetings. The heart monitor that sits beside him beeps methodically in the midst of the silence between us, and O my brothers, I finally lovet the sight of the trees and sunshine from the outside oknoes. In a way, it somewhat depresses me to think this is all the lovely view this Casey gets to enjoy before being tortured and messed around by the doctors and nurses here, O my brothers. I wonder if they even govoreet to this malchick like a human being at all; or do they just ignore him and only acknowledge him when it's time to fill him up with like medication and electrical shocks for therapy sessions and test runs. That last messel gives me the shivers, really. It really does bring me back.
I smile at the younger chelloveck and he shifts his weight a malenky as if trying to stay away from me, though I don't hold it against him. He's been through a lot, I'm sure.
"Lovely day, isn't it now?" I lean back on my chair and make a hammock with like my rooks before peering out at the oknoes again, "I've learned all about you, Casey. Them doctors treating you well?"
My glazzies flick at him again, and he smots downward without as much as a peep. Either this guy is as shy as my other malenky droog Riley or just suspicious. Or just high from all the medicine they injected him with. Either that or he has taken a very inappropriate liking to Yours Truly. I viddy him bite his lower goober before flipping his blue orbs at me, and he does this malenky nod motion with his gulliver, and I follow along as if ponying him.
"Do they, now? Do they treat you that well, or are you just full of shit?" I cuttingly say, and he widens his glazzies and his rot a little. Suddenly his eyes whips around the room and his brows furrow confusingly, perhaps thinking he is being thrown into a practical joke set up by the doctors outside. Now I wonder if they really do treat him as horrorshow as he implies that they do. I watch carefully as he stares at me with much confusion, and I chumble, "Are you full of cal, Casey?"
That did it. Nobody govoreets that slovo without belonging to a shaika outside of these concrete shests, and his litso whitens in strack at me. I smirk and Casey takes in a breath and whispers, "You know the Nadsat too?"
"Of course I do. I used to be a ringleader for a gang."
"Which one?" I slooshy the bed's leggings squeak a little as he tries to free himself from the leather bounds to no avail, "Which avenue are you from? Do you go by a certain name? Please… I just need to…"
What is he trying to do? Or govoreet for that matter? Why the heavy interessovat in my past? I frown at him suspiciously but he continues to whimper for an answer, and suddenly he looks a little pathetic. Is this the Casey Chase that the papers warned me about? The same Casey Chase that raped that twelve year starry devotchka and almost got away with it? His smooth, porcelain skin and clean luscious glory seemed too perfect, too plastic for a so called hardened prestoopnick, and I wonder if it was me who is getting the practical joke…
"Well, I cannot really answer those questions, but I go by a name, yes," I lean forward in my chair and he points his chin down on his chest as if trying to do the same in an awkward way, "Alexander DeLarge is my God-given name."
"Alex," He breathes into my name, "That's… that's impossible…"
"Why do you say that, Casey?"
"You don't remember me, but," His glazzies harden at me with like a heavy sigh, "I remember you. I lived about a few blocks from you during the years you were a part of a gang. Ah, I must have been at least thirteen the first time I saw you fooling around with your friends in white clad… But ever since I saw you, I grew in lust with the idea of joining you and your crew. You see, I was this very polite young boy, but the world never thanked me for being that way. Anger grew in me like a fire that just couldn't be put out…"
"Nerd rage?" I inquire, having had slooshied of that silly term before, and he glares at me with much intensity that had me chuckling, "I'm sorry, but you put yourself out there. Do go on, please."
"Well, I was a good student. You were right about that," He hesitates but continues anyway without missing a beat, "I went to a private school, which didn't make much sense considering my parents living income. But then that explains why my father is hardly ever home and why my mother is missing half the time; they worked around two to three different jobs to pay not just our living expenses, but for my private school. Now I feel like they wasted all of that for nothing."
"Then why'd you do the things you did, Casey?"
"It was on a Sunday night," I got malenky scared when his glazzies suddenly grew flip looking trying to remember the past, "Around ten or eleven or perhaps midnight. My mother left behind some money while she was working at the factory. She told me to buy some food around the corner if I ever got hungry. I was in need for some grub and fags, so I came out of the apartment to go to the local convenience store.
It was a little cold, as I can recall. I was walking all alone. After buying milk, cookies and some fags, I got out to come back home. I wanted to take the shortcut even though I wasn't too familiar with the place. Big mistake. Unbeknownst to me, it was taken over by this gang…"
"I pray it wasn't me," I whisper to myself, but that Casey loveted it anyway, and to my relief he shook his gulliver negatively at me. It's a dobby veshch I don't remember him from the past since I don't recall running into such a gentle looking malchick like this one is.
"It was some overweight bloke with his bloody friends, all stupid and ugly," he shuts his eyes painfully, "Billy or something or other."
"Ah, Fatboy Billyboy, eh?" I had to smeck, I mean, who else would fit the profile along with his haggard looking droogs? I smile at that meek Casey and govoreeted, "So then what happened?"
"They raped me."
I pause, that answer coming at me like a full on running train or a sack of bricks. I carefully watch him and he lowers his gaze down to himself, as if ashamed. Of course, I couldn't blame him; that sort of thing really does demasculinize a chelloveck if that kind of action ittied against him. So, swallowing the uneasy lump down, I look at him again as he continues with the story.
"They took turns, with Billy being first," He shivers, "He laughed at me while I cried against the dirty floor, and it hurt so much. He wasn't easy on me and gave it his all, and after he was done, he let his other four disgusting friends going at me too. They said they loved my bright blond mane and my reading glasses. After it was all over, I was left at the curb with my pants down and in a fetal position. I believe they took my wallet too. I don't know how long I've been lying there, but soon enough, the police found me. How embarrassing."
"And you joined a gang out of revenge…"
"You could say that. It's also out of being tired of the same activities. We all need some excitement," He shifts his weight around again and stares at me, and that's when I realize how perfectly bright his blond luscious glory really is, and there he itties whispering again, "Why are you even here?"
"I'm going to help you escape. You don't belong here, Casey. They're not going to help you."
He cracks a weak smile at me, "They sodded you over here too, huh?"
"You read all about it?" I smirk, feeling so close to this malchick already, "Some crazy times Uncle Alex went through, yes."
"Yes. I was a crazy person by the time you went to prison. Too bad my gang was so small and didn't have enough get togethers during the night to gain as much publicity as you and your own street gang did. I'm ashamed to be in front of such a huge street celebrity. You're like a God to me."
How dorogoy. I could blub. I am being a malenky sarky, of course.
"You're too much," I sigh, "But, I can't talk much longer here. They'll start to ask questions, those doctors and nurses. You'll have to be prepared for the next time I come back, though."
"Alex?" He narrows his glazzies a tomtick softer this raz, "Why are you doing this?"
"I hate the government. All of it," I bitterly respond, "This is just my big way of getting back at them for hurting me all those years ago. So try to work with me here, Casey."
"Sunday would be the best time to come back. Nobody except that bloody fat bitch at the desk downstairs will be there, and stupidly enough, they don't have much security cameras that turn on that day. You will be able to help me much better by then."
Sunday. Luckily that's just a couple of days away, and I'll be able to make it by then. I gently stand up from the chair and take one step closer to that Casey's bed before leaning over to him and he watches at me carefully, and that's when I whisper, "I'll be here."
His litso slowly fades to a peaceful sort of smile, perhaps taking a liking and like some trust towards me, and he nods with a soft movement, "I'll wait for you."
Then comes a skorry rapping of knockings from behind me.