Post by DAKOTA ROMANO on Jan 26, 2013 2:05:52 GMT -8
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dakota anthony romano.
KOTA, CODY. 23. OCTOBER 25TH. HETEROSEXUAL. MUSICIAN. VOCALS FOR EVERYONE YOU KNOW. ALEX GAYSCARF.
I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon And I'm aiming right at you Right at you Two hundred fifty thousand miles on a clear night in June And I'm so lost without you
Shaking hands strike the match against the side of the box, and you watch as it flickers to life. You hold it loosely in your grasp for a few moments, watching the flame glimmer and sway in the breeze, lapping at the match. You let it fall on the ground. It almost doesn't catch and you're about to get out a second match, but then it does. The trail you left ignites and you're almost frozen to the spot in panic. What happens if they find out? You can barely breathe, let alone think as you watch it get closer and closer the the car. What have you done?
The car suddenly catches light in a burst of flame, and you're thankful that you're standing a fair distance away. The smell is horrible and you crinkle your nose, hoping that no one was woken by the sound of the car igniting. You remain in the same position leaning against the tree for support for a few more moments. You watch with ever-widening eyes, your features clearly illuminated by the flames. You can feel the regret beginning to settle in your stomach and you have to leave, you can't run the risk of being caught. Not to mention you simply can't watch anymore.
"I was maybe sixteen or seventeen when it happened. It's not my greatest memory, but I torched a car. It was a heat of the moment sort of thing, a knee-jerk reaction. I'd just found out that my girlfriend of a year had only dated me as part of a bet. And then the kicker was she was cheating on me anyway. I think it hurt so much 'cause I was really convinced that she was the one. So I got pissed and I set her car on fire. At least I think it was her car. Maybe it was her brother's car, I don't fucking know. I set someone's car on fire in the middle of the fucking night and it was all over the papers for weeks to come. Somehow the police never figured out that it was me."
The car suddenly catches light in a burst of flame, and you're thankful that you're standing a fair distance away. The smell is horrible and you crinkle your nose, hoping that no one was woken by the sound of the car igniting. You remain in the same position leaning against the tree for support for a few more moments. You watch with ever-widening eyes, your features clearly illuminated by the flames. You can feel the regret beginning to settle in your stomach and you have to leave, you can't run the risk of being caught. Not to mention you simply can't watch anymore.
"I was maybe sixteen or seventeen when it happened. It's not my greatest memory, but I torched a car. It was a heat of the moment sort of thing, a knee-jerk reaction. I'd just found out that my girlfriend of a year had only dated me as part of a bet. And then the kicker was she was cheating on me anyway. I think it hurt so much 'cause I was really convinced that she was the one. So I got pissed and I set her car on fire. At least I think it was her car. Maybe it was her brother's car, I don't fucking know. I set someone's car on fire in the middle of the fucking night and it was all over the papers for weeks to come. Somehow the police never figured out that it was me."
BECAUSE ENOUGH'S ENOUGH WE'RE DONE YOU TOLD ME THINK ABOUT WELL I DID NOW I DON'T WANNA FEEL A THING ANYMORE I'M TIRED OF BEGGING FOR THE THINGS THAT I WANT I'M OVER SLEEPING LIKE A DOG ON THE FLOOR THE THING I THINK I LOVE WILL SURELY BRING PAIN
"Fuck you." You spit, you're utterly livid. You don't care if he's your older brother, he's a fucking bastard and really you couldn't care less if he died. Or so you say. You go to turn around and walk away, be the bigger person.
"I guess you finally found out then, huh? Took you a while. Always knew you were a dumbass." He retorts, he's clearly not intimidated by you in the slightest.
Before you can even think about what you're doing your fist is connecting with his jaw. It probably hurt your knuckles more than it hurt him, but you don't care. There are several gasps as your fellow students notice what's going on.
There's a cracking sound and a searing pain as he hits back. You didn't expect any less of him, you knew your brother wasn't one to let these sorts of things slide. You're pretty sure your nose is broken in at least two places but you keep hitting, you're not sure if you're actually causing him any damage but you don't care.
Three teachers and the principal run to the scene. You know you're in deep shit when you're pulled away from your brother, but you don't care about that. It had to be done.
"My brother was good friends with my girlfriend. He was the one who challenged her to the bet in the first place, and after I found this out I kind of went nuts. It was fucking crazy, I couldn't control myself. I got suspended for initiating it, he got detention. For months afterward, I told him that I hoped he died. And then he did. That's my biggest regret I think, because even if he was a dick to me he was still my brother and the last thing I said to him was I hope you die. I miss him a lot."
"I guess you finally found out then, huh? Took you a while. Always knew you were a dumbass." He retorts, he's clearly not intimidated by you in the slightest.
Before you can even think about what you're doing your fist is connecting with his jaw. It probably hurt your knuckles more than it hurt him, but you don't care. There are several gasps as your fellow students notice what's going on.
There's a cracking sound and a searing pain as he hits back. You didn't expect any less of him, you knew your brother wasn't one to let these sorts of things slide. You're pretty sure your nose is broken in at least two places but you keep hitting, you're not sure if you're actually causing him any damage but you don't care.
Three teachers and the principal run to the scene. You know you're in deep shit when you're pulled away from your brother, but you don't care about that. It had to be done.
"My brother was good friends with my girlfriend. He was the one who challenged her to the bet in the first place, and after I found this out I kind of went nuts. It was fucking crazy, I couldn't control myself. I got suspended for initiating it, he got detention. For months afterward, I told him that I hoped he died. And then he did. That's my biggest regret I think, because even if he was a dick to me he was still my brother and the last thing I said to him was I hope you die. I miss him a lot."
They're finding me out I'm having my doubts I'm losing the best of me Dressed up as myself to live in the shadow of who I'm supposed to be We're all part of the same sick little games And I need a get away I'm wasting my days I throw them away Losing it all on these sick little games
"Yeah, my mum's a model. She's really pretty." There's a short pause as you look around the group. "I used to live in Italy."
The lies fall from your lips with almost terrifying ease. You're maybe eight years old and you can barely tell when you're lying and when you're not anymore. The group of 'friends' look at you with wide eyes, clearly trying to decipher if you're lying or not.
"You're lying!" A girl, Jessie, accuses in a shrill tone that makes you crinkle up your nose. You can't stand the girl. "Your mummy's really ugly!"
"Am not!" You retort in a defensive tone, hoping that nobody else sees through your lies. "I'm from Italy, my last name says so!" There's silence again. "And my mum isn't ugly!"
"Nobody gives a crap, Cody."
"Don't swear!" Jessie pipes up once more. Can't she just shut up? Or go away? Both would be nice and you contemplate telling her to leave but you know she'll whine to the teachers if you do. She's notorious for being a tattle-tale.
"I started lying about myself when I was eight. It was just after my mother left, I don't know why. I think it was because I had a lot of really interesting friends and I was just plain old Dakota Romano. I started making elaborate stories about my parents and my origins, I think I once said I lived in Italy. I mean, my dad is Italian but I've never been to Italy. And my mum sure as hell isn't a model. Once I started lying though, I couldn't stop. I had to keep going to make myself seem more interesting. Hell, I even do it now. But hey, as long as nobody finds out it doesn't matter. Right?"
The lies fall from your lips with almost terrifying ease. You're maybe eight years old and you can barely tell when you're lying and when you're not anymore. The group of 'friends' look at you with wide eyes, clearly trying to decipher if you're lying or not.
"You're lying!" A girl, Jessie, accuses in a shrill tone that makes you crinkle up your nose. You can't stand the girl. "Your mummy's really ugly!"
"Am not!" You retort in a defensive tone, hoping that nobody else sees through your lies. "I'm from Italy, my last name says so!" There's silence again. "And my mum isn't ugly!"
"Nobody gives a crap, Cody."
"Don't swear!" Jessie pipes up once more. Can't she just shut up? Or go away? Both would be nice and you contemplate telling her to leave but you know she'll whine to the teachers if you do. She's notorious for being a tattle-tale.
"I started lying about myself when I was eight. It was just after my mother left, I don't know why. I think it was because I had a lot of really interesting friends and I was just plain old Dakota Romano. I started making elaborate stories about my parents and my origins, I think I once said I lived in Italy. I mean, my dad is Italian but I've never been to Italy. And my mum sure as hell isn't a model. Once I started lying though, I couldn't stop. I had to keep going to make myself seem more interesting. Hell, I even do it now. But hey, as long as nobody finds out it doesn't matter. Right?"
Last thing I heard you were fed up you're skipping town With no note telling where When I go to sleep at night you're not there When I go to sleep at night do you care I need to know Why are you walking away Was it something I did Did I make a mistake caus I'm trying to deal with the pain I don't understand this is this how it is
"I'm done, Stefano. You hear me? I'm fucking done." Your mother yells. Even through the closed doors, you can hear the argument loud and clear. Your brother sighs and switches on the television, flicking the channels a few times before settling on some sort of cartoon.
It's one of your favourite shows and your features instantly light up. You'll eventually come to figure out that he does this to try and distract you and your sister, but for the moment you don't think too much of the action. You're still a bit too young to understand that sort of thing.
Twenty minutes pass, and you can still hear the yelling if you focus enough. The television's not quite enough to block it out entirely.
"Goodbye." There's the sound of something shattering, followed by a door slamming. Your brother glances towards the door of his bedroom, his expression expectant. He's tense, as if he's waiting for someone to burst through at any moment. They never do.
Nobody comes and calls you for dinner, and your brother goes to investigate. He comes back soon after, crafting some half-hearted lie about how your father's gone out for a bit and that you'll all need to find something to eat at home. You later discover that this is because your father's out cold on the couch, bottle still loosely in his grasp.
"I was pretty young when she left. I think I was seven? I don't know. At first I thought she'd just gone for a holiday or something, and I spent a lot of my time waiting for her to come home. But she never did. I eventually found out she'd been cheating on my dad, hence the arguments. It really would've made more sense for him to leave, not my mother, but that didn't happen and I'm kind of thankful. My dad at least kinda cared for us. My mother didn't give two shits as long as she had enough money to buy a shit ton of clothes she didn't need. Stupid fucking gold digger."
It's one of your favourite shows and your features instantly light up. You'll eventually come to figure out that he does this to try and distract you and your sister, but for the moment you don't think too much of the action. You're still a bit too young to understand that sort of thing.
Twenty minutes pass, and you can still hear the yelling if you focus enough. The television's not quite enough to block it out entirely.
"Goodbye." There's the sound of something shattering, followed by a door slamming. Your brother glances towards the door of his bedroom, his expression expectant. He's tense, as if he's waiting for someone to burst through at any moment. They never do.
Nobody comes and calls you for dinner, and your brother goes to investigate. He comes back soon after, crafting some half-hearted lie about how your father's gone out for a bit and that you'll all need to find something to eat at home. You later discover that this is because your father's out cold on the couch, bottle still loosely in his grasp.
"I was pretty young when she left. I think I was seven? I don't know. At first I thought she'd just gone for a holiday or something, and I spent a lot of my time waiting for her to come home. But she never did. I eventually found out she'd been cheating on my dad, hence the arguments. It really would've made more sense for him to leave, not my mother, but that didn't happen and I'm kind of thankful. My dad at least kinda cared for us. My mother didn't give two shits as long as she had enough money to buy a shit ton of clothes she didn't need. Stupid fucking gold digger."
TONI. PM FOR DEETZ. AEST. 4+ YEARS. ASSHAT (KIERAN) AND DORA (JULIAN).
