FALLEN
Whisper
He wanted it to rain. He wanted dark clouds and icy winds. He wanted lightning and thunder and hail, anything to make the scenery of the park match with the simmering anger inside him.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails made indentations in the flesh and the skin on his knuckles was white.
They shouldn't be there. They didn't deserve to be there. Twenty-two people were gathered, and out of those twenty-two, five of them knew her. Three of them cared.
*Catch me as I fall*
Nineteen of her twenty-two mourners didn't deserve to be there. There were suits and sweepers, former employees and secretaries. Raines and Lyle stood to the left, Broots and Sydney to the right. A young girl who he could only assume from a distance was Debbie stood in front of the group.
*Say you're here and it's all over now*
His skin cracked and peeled but he didn't notice. His eyes, fixed upon the back of Lyle's head were pooling with anger, raw and unchecked.
He'd never hated anyone more in his entire life. He'd hated him even before he'd learned his name. He was the one who stopped his heartbeat.
Twice.
*Speaking to the utmost fear*
His mentor's son had fallen into his trap of wits and charms.
His brother had fallen before his eyes, just when he'd reached a crossroads.
His best friend had fallen into her father's arm, eyes rolled back.
His sister had fallen from a window.
All of his family- mother, father, sister, brother, had fallen with only one bullet per heart.
His lover had fallen into immortal silence.
*No one's here and I fall into myself*
His mind clawed desperately for a reason why Lyle, her murderer, got to stand on her grave and give her roses, but he, her friend, lover, constant, had to hide in the shadows of an old elm yards away, his words unheard and his tears unseen.
Sydney stepped forward and placed a white rose on the headstone.
Innocence.
*This truth drives me into madness*
He was going crazy. Always hiding, lurking, brooding, watching everything from far away, constantly disconnected.
It scared him. That from the time he'd left her house that day, he'd felt nothing but rage. There was no grief or remorse or regret. He was vengeful and infuriated.
"Jarod, you need to talk about this, work out some of your aggression."
"I don't want to talk. I don't want to cry or wallow or brood. I want to find the guy that did this to her."
"And then what?"
"Then I'm going to make that sick bastard's life a living hell."
*I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away*
It was uncharacteristic of him. He'd been hurt and full of revenge before but never like this. He acted out on every person, those he did know, those he didn't, it didn't matter.
They all suffered.
*If I will it all away*
Jarod watched in disgust as Lyle stepped forward, offering comfort to the teen, who was crying and screaming.
He laughed bitterly when she pulled away.
*Don't turn away (Don't give into the pain)*
He'd found the sick bastard all right. He'd swiped fingerprints from the glass in the sink and wasn't surprised at all when they matched her twin.
From that day, Lyle didn't rest at all. His home, car and office were constantly bombarded with letters and threats, toys, photographs, DSA's, anything Jarod could think of to scare the hell out of him.
"He won't go unpunished."
"I know you want revenge, Jarod, but this isn't the way to do it. You're playing into their hands. They want you to go over the edge; they want you to fall, to slip up just once. That's all they need, Jarod and you'll be back in this place for the rest of your life."
*Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)*
He'd pondered Sydney's words, and the more he thought about it, the clearer his mind became, and with that clarity came freedom. He was liberated from the strangling hold her death had put on him.
Two days later he made a plan, and with only one thought in mind, broke into Lyle's home in the dead of night and took what Lyle had tried to take from him years ago-
His other thumb.
Without anesthetic he screamed bloody murder, but his apartment was designed for that kind of sound, and no one heard.
*Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)*
It was no great accomplishment, but for some reason it eased his mind and his soul, enough to where he could breathe again.
For a while.
*Don't turn out the lights (Never sleep Never die)*
He woke up coated in sweat and tears and screams and reached for the phone automatically. It worried him when she didn't pick up at her house, on her cell or at work. He phoned Sydney at three o'clock in the morning and asked where Miss Parker was.
His mentor burst into trembling sobs, reminding Jarod of what he already knew-
Miss Parker was dead.
*I'm frightened by what I see*
He closed his eyes, listening to the soft breeze around him. It sounded like a child's laughter. He shook his head sadly, knowing that sound was long gone. It had died long before she did.
But somehow I know that there's much more to come*
But he knew it wasn't the end. Sure, he'd terrorized her killer and stolen his thumb, but it didn't make up for the lives he and the Centre combined had destroyed. It didn't make up for their childhoods or their pathetic lives.
He also knew, after many late night talks with his old friend, that it wasn't necessarily revenge he was after.
"It's about honor, not evening the score. Yes, I believe her death should be avenged, but not like this and not by you. Killing Lyle or blowing up the Centre won't do you any good in the long run."
"Yeah, but it'd be fun."
"Ay, that's the point, Jarod! If you kill him for killing her, that doesn't make you a hero- it makes you more like him then you want to be."
*Immobilized by my fear*
The empty scene before him caught him off guard, and he took slow, hesitant steps away from the shadows. He knew in the back of his mind that there were probably sweepers stationed at every plot, just waiting for him to make his move, but in that moment he just couldn't bring himself to care.
*And soon to be blinded by tears*
Small droplets of water splashed on his cheeks, and he raised his head to the sky- blue and cloudless for miles in every direction.
*Fallen angels at my feet*
He remembered someone telling him once that rain was really angel's tears. He hoped they weren't hers.
*Whispered voices at my ear*
The wind shuffled past him, breaking the blades of grass; the tree leaves chafed each other like crickets wings.
*Death before my eyes*
Too much of their lives had been spent in cemeteries, surrounded by falling bodies and stifled tears.
*Lying to next to me I fear*
Maybe now, underneath the earth and sky, they'd both find some sort of peace and they'd be able to sleep.
*She beckons me shall I give in*
He didn't know how long he stood that way; closed eyes raised toward the sky, letting the soft rain kiss his face and soak his skin.
*Upon my end shall I begin*
He blinked twice and raised a hand tentatively to his face. He rubbed the salt drops between his fingertips and smiled.
*Forsaking all I've fallen for I rise to meet the end*
**
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