{{who will save us?}}

[zaley maria bradley]

Face down; this is where it leads you - too far.
Buried covered now, you'll find peace - in the earth aground.
Stop now, there's no point in breathing - it's not allowed.
On the surface, how can you find - reason to move on?
Until then you can runaway.
Do your best to hide your face.
And oh I know you best;
I know you get what you get
you get what you deserve.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Anna was being really mean today (she'd already made Zaley cry once this morning), and nothing Zaley would say would placate her sister, so Zaley had switched to her fallback tactic of blocking her out with music. Her iPod was turned up all the way, and it was working...to a degree. She could feel Anna fuming around, just a generally dark, angry presence, and occasionally she'd even start screaming at Zaley, like a little kid in time-out who switches between sulky silence and throwing a fit. Snagging one of her Jones sodas from the fridge, Zaley snuggled up in her bed, curling her bare feet up underneath her and lying on her side to play with her laptop. But she couldn't kid herself, she knew nothing on the Internet could entertain her, and it certianly couldn't cheer her up any, that was for sure. Much as she hated the thought of going out and braving the stares of people around her (which, Anna constantly assured her, were always cruel and judgemental towards her), Zaley was going crazy (ha, pun, haha, not funny) in her dorm and she needed to get out for a bit.

Sighing and unable to lie to herself anymore, Zaley reluctantly rolled out of her nice warm bed. First thing was a shower before she headed out. That was all well and good except for getting a shower meant no headphones in her ears. No music meant a really mean Anna. Oh well, it had to happen sometimes. Maybe I can make peace with her before I go, she thought vaguely. Padding barefoot to the bathroom, Zaley locked herself in and slipped out of her clothes slowly. Last to leave were the headphones from her ears, and predictably, it was like turning down the radio to hear a couple fighting in the room next to you. Except this fight was in her head.

Turning on the water and stepping inside, Zaley sighed. "Thanks for ignoring me. Jesus, Zaley, you're a real piece of shit. If your own sister can't even put up with you, how do you expect anyone else to?"

[/color] Her eyes flew open, her momentary peace predictably shattered. "Anna, please be nice. Please? I'm trying to have a good day," Zaley muttered pleadingly, sighing and rubbing her neck with one hand, grabbing the shampoo with the other. Her sister made a noise and made it obvious she wasn't going to be nice. "Come on Zaley, don't lie to yourself. Why are you even here?"[/color] "Because its where I want to be," she answered softly, massaging the bubbly soap into her scalp with a troubled look on her face, the lie blatantly obvious to both of them. But that wasn't the part that Anna jumped on, no she went for inflicting the worst pain possible. "Well fine. Its good to know you are where you want to be. But what about everyone else? Nobody else gives a fuck you're here. In fact,"[/color] her sister paused with a dark chuckle, "Nobody gives a fuck about you anywhere. You think Mom doesn't want me? Oh Zaley you really are fucking crazy. It's not me. Its you. Why do you think she kept pushing those pills on you? She hates you. If nothing, I was the better twin and she resents you for being the one to live."[/color] By this point it was all Zaley could do to focus on taking a shower, but she knew she was crying anyhow. "That's not true, Anna. You know it." Her voice barely came out. Anna took that as good news and continued on viciously. "Oh? What's that, big sister? Is it finally clicking for you? Hah, you're so fucking pitiful. You honestly think William, or Dylan, or Clem, or Adrian care about you? You could slip in this shower right now and crack your head open and it would be more of a hassle to clean up the mess than anything else. You'll never be anything but useless and you know it. I don't know why you keep fighting," [/color] Wow, this was NOT conduscive to cheering herself up. Zaley pressed her hands as hard as she could over her ears, choking on a sob. "That's not true! Anna, just leave me alone! Please!" She slumped against the side of the shower enclosure, shivering even though the water was nice and warm like she liked it. And thankfully, her sister did. She seemed to have sensed that she'd done enough damage for now. One thing Zaley had to give to Anna--she knew how to push her sister's buttons just to the brink and then she quit--she knew just how much was the right amount of torment.

Finishing her shower was a depressing affair (duh) but with a few extra minutes allotted to shave (which did make her feel a bit better) and let the water hit her face she wouldn't be all puffy from crying, Zaley felt a bit better when she stepped out. Anna had retreated back into the corner of her mind, an almost benevolent lurker. Almost. But Zaley knew better, but that was besides the point. Zaley would always love Anna, even when she said mean things like that. If nothing else, because if she didn't, Anna would turn on the charm at just the right second so she could stick around. She was wicked smart like that. And Anna was her best friend--without Anna she didn't thinks she'd have anyone.

Getting dressed was a blessedly solitary affair, but Zaley kept her headphones playing in her ears, just in case. She knew that she'd be a miserable basketcase all day unless she did something to cheer herself up, so she opted to still go out, maybe to the art room, a place she found solace as easily as anywhere (read, not very easily, but still). She could use some cheering up and feeling like she was worth something, and more than once she'd been desperate enough that she'd left a painting of her's out in the open and hung around as an anonymous lurker to hear people comment on her things. She'd never actually bothered to take credit for her work until after the people left, at which point she would go over to the lovingly coated canvas, caress it for a moment, and try to absorb the adoration that people put into watching her paintings, imagining how it would feel to have that be directed towards her. She also opted to making herself look nice and pretty so she would maybe feel that way too. Hopefully. Pulling on some of her favorite skinny jeans over that, Zaley dug around in her stuff until she found a shirt suitable for the kind-of-cold ickiness going on outside. Glad she'd painted her toenails yesterday (one of the only things she'd done, actually, this place made one feel lazy), she put on heels (might as well go for the full monty of I-need-to-feel-better-about-myself accessories) and then checked herself out in the full-length mirror in the bathroom. It was an accessory Zaley had always felt to be a bit of a slap in the face to the residents. Everyone here hated themselves, who were the administration kidding when they put them in each dorm? But oh well. Unbuttoning one more button on her shirt and exposing more of her pale chest made her confidence go up that little bit more that she needed to go through with straigtening her hair and putting on some smoky eye makeup. "Okay, I feel better now," Zaley said on an exhalation to her reflection, almost believing it.

Leaving the dorm, Zaley was pleasantly surprised--the cold felt really nice against her face. She turned off her iPod and stuck it in her beloved mini-backpack, noting with a feeling of relief in her chest that Anna didn't jump on the oppurtunity to start shouting. She felt like an ignoramus just standing there, so she muttered a quick warning (okay, plead) to Anna, [color=purple"Please be good!"[/color] (getting a grumbling mumble of acquiscience from her sister) before opening the door and poking her head inside. It was empty, so she went ahead and went inside, grabbing the four pieces of a frame, the staplegun and roll of canvas, setting to making her canvas for her to paint on. It was hand-work, her mind was fully free to roam, which was never a good thing, so Zaley stuck her headphones right back inside, since no one was around to expect polite conversation anyway.
[/size]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

all right, this post is tagged for dylan for now, that may change later, and zaley dearest is wearing this and this post is rocking 1490 words. so, i'd like to thank cartel's song runaway and with that note, go ahead and post yer loverly reply below ^_^
[/center][/font]

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

SO I AM IN THE TWILIGHT OF MY YOUTH, NOT THAT I'M GOING TO REMEMBER
HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOON TONIGHT, IS IT FULL? IS IT STILL BURNING IT'S EMBERS?
THE PEOPLE DANCING IN THE CORNER THEY SEEM HAPPY BUT I AM SAD
I'M STILL DANCING IN THE COMA OF THE DRINKS I JUST HAD
AND I AM IN THE TWILIGHT OF MY YOUTH, NOT THAT I'M GOING TO REMEMBER
DANCING AND SLOWLY FINDING THE TRUTH AND IT'S COVERED IN COMA

[/font][/color]
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •[/center]

Kara was a bitch. There it was. The truth. That should be enough to make Dylan withdraw his name from their stupid game of dares. It was going no where. She was only wanting to torment him over keeping a necklace from her. Well, he was sorry okay? Forget apologies, Kara was getting her revenge. The only hope offered to Dylan at this point was giving up not only the game but his pride. Try to beat her at this game or he could wait it out until one of her dares gets him killed. Frankly, if that was a promise, he'd take it. Death was on his mind like something to be thought of fondly. Why didn't the bullet kill him? Why didn't he finish the job when the hot gun was literally in his hands? Why couldn't he be grateful to Jaycie for saving his ass?

Hell, he dreams of death and it doesn't scare him one bit. That is what bothers him, the lack of fear and anticipation of it. But of course it was his luck that Kara probably had no interest in murder or helping a suicide mission. Nope, she was just plain torturing him for his awful betrayal. It was only a necklace. That was all! Leave it to a girl to be so sentimental.

...Kara was a bitch and yet, he was drawing her on her notepad before she walked up to him today at the stairs with a new dare in mind for him. He closed the notepad, keeping the portrait secret forever. She should never know these feelings he had for her, eventually they'll fade and numb. They'll go away forever and become only a silly memory. If she knew the truth- oh what a laugh. She would probably be offended. Dylan likes her? Yeah, okay. She would think herself too good for him and perhaps she's right. But a naive blanket was holding itself over his eyes. They were perfect for each other. If he could only get her to realize that and pardon the whole necklace thing... Kara was just something you don't get or have, she'll always be free. Might as well, for all Dylan knew it was that freedom she had, an independance that he loved. Not her. Though he didn't believe that for a second when he tried to convince himself that. Yeah, beneath the rough exterior butterflies were stirring in his stomach when she found him. The drawings he had of her and thoughts of her during class wouldn't be ignored, wouldn't be sabotaged by all the reason and sense he summoned to fight the feelings.

He was a sucker, did she know that? Well, he fell into her tricks and faced an awfully bad dare. The consequences were just as humiliating and people were still snickering at him when they saw him walking along. Fuck them, fuck! Kara was a bitch... Dylan needed to draw something to get his mind off of this crap. And there's the rub. Kara etched herself in every picture. Try to draw a wall and there were her piercing eyes. A headache throbbed in his sinus' after a half an hour's effort to come up with something original. That it, forget it. He needed a plan. School was way too easy, it no longer kept him busy with it's essays and assignments. Even the advanced classes were a drag. He was broke, barely able to afford gas and beer anymore. No way he was going back to the high ground for a night's fill of alcohol again. Maybe he should finally just find a job in town?

Grabbing all of his drawing pads out of his locker, he needed a vacation from art for a while. Til the fear, the dares, Kara, brokeness blows over. He slipped a pain medication into his mouth and swallowed like dr. house. The doctors prescribed him with so many meds since he got shot. Dylan never told them he was only sore now and he didn't actually need them. It made him a hypocrit for he critisized Charlotte for her prescription for anxiety. Now here he was, just for the entertainment and numbness. He hadn't seen her in ages, ever since he cussed her and her new boyfriend Dallas out. You know what? Fuck them both. He certainly didn't need her.

He peered over his shoulders nervously when he heard some footsteps. His heart quickened then slowed spotting Clementine, Dakota, and Andrian walking along in conversation. He was so fucking paranoid now a' days. Being shot does that to you... He shut the locker probably a little too loudly, because Andrian glanced back at him. Dylan fought the urge to make something out of the look he recieved. Yeah, fuck Andrian... Since when did so many cusswords flood his mind like Katrina? He was so exhausted with himself. His head throbbed again as he clicked the lock for his locker.

Drawing pads in hand, he began walking to the art room where his art stuff was stored in another locker. He didn't want to look at it, not on the school days. Not in his room, not during class scribbling into his notebook. It would be an art-free lifestyle until further notice. Good luck with that! he thought to himself grimly. He looked over to a door opening to outside, someone walked out. Who was it? Who could it have been? He opened it, to see it had been Andrian, Clem, and Dakota who just decided to go outside. Why? They didn't like sharing a hallway with Dylan? Whatever. He shut it and returned to his route towards the art room. He would by a gun with the money he gets working. Make himself feel safer around here, this was no way to live. Walking down hallways in constant fear of seeing the elusive Lacey or Jaycie, or even Stefano who while wasn't violent, was dangerous in his temptations.

Why didn't the bullet kill him? He adjusted the scapular under his shirt, craving a cigarette and walked inside the art room. For a moment, he thought himself alone. Thank God! But that small little joy died away quick. Zaley was here. Shit, shit, shit! Holy, was he shaking? No, of course not. Damn, you need to calm down Dylan. he thought to himself. Don't just leave. Ain't no way you should let Zaley, Kara, Stefano, Blaze, Lacey, and Andrian going to rule your life! Okay, see she's got head phones on. Just slipped your books into your locket and get away from your little stalker, Lacey Jr. He walked to the lockers, ignoring Zaley completely as he fought his nerves inwardly. Opening the locker door, he dropped a book. FUCK! Chill the fuck out Dylan, God, you only dropped a book. Calm it down... He rolled his eyes on himself and picked it up.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

TAG - zaley!
WORDS - 1144 words
NOTES - woo! let's get this party started.
LYRIC - ryan adams

[zaley maria bradley]

Face down; this is where it leads you - too far.
Buried covered now, you'll find peace - in the earth aground.
Stop now, there's no point in breathing - it's not allowed.
On the surface, how can you find - reason to move on?
Until then you can runaway.
Do your best to hide your face.
And oh I know you best;
I know you get what you get
you get what you deserve.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[ooc: yeah, it sucks, is short, and took forever, sorry! D':]

Zaley couldn't lie to herself (and saw little point in trying, because it wouldn't do any good...Unless you considered when Anna told her that thinking she mattered at all was lying to herself, in which case she wasn't sure why the fuck she still bothered to feed herself this feeble illusion but she did anyway, but whatever); she knew she was only running away from her problems, burying herself in her music and her art, but really, what else could she do? Life here was all about running away from your problems, even though they were the thing to trap you there in the first place. Besides, she wasn't quite sure if she confronted these demons she would be able to come out of it intact. They were such big worries, what with her father's suicide, her mother's abandonment, her questionable sanity (though technically, psyciatrists had already diagnosed her "crazy", how was that for depressing? And you thought YOUR life was bad!), her dismal surroundings, her self worth (or lack thereof), and of course, her sister. Oh, Anna. Zaley had heard the diagnoses, time after time, seen the graphs of the chemicals in her brain, heard about inheriting it from her father, she knew that Anna wasn't really her sister, that she was the schizophrenia. After all, they'd told her enough that she was insane (jeez, way to be insensitive, guys, yeah?), but they really couldn't fathom how very very sinister and coercing she could be! They hadn't laid awake all night hearing themselves berated, they didn't have a constant dark shadow, hearing every thought and turning it around on themselves. They didn't know the hate she felt towards herself and her sister, the fear of being like this forever but even more than that the fear of having nothing familiar at all. In short, they didn't know what it was like to be her. If they were in her position, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to pass judgements and scribble prescriptions with no regard for anything but what they thought was right. They didn't give a flying fuck about their patients, poor Zaley had found, how could they understand? It was one thing to hear the words, see the charts, but it was another to live it. Who could blame her for wanting to run away? Who could blame any of the people here?

So immersed was she in her stereo distraction that a tornado could have come right by the window or the whole school could have been robbed and she wouldn't have even known it, and to be honest, that was the way she liked it. It was quieter when the music was louder, ironic as that sounded. Her art was also a very sufficient form of distraction right now, keeping Anna a malevolent murmer in her mind, and thankfully nothing more. Her project of the moment was only in the very rough stages of sketching on the canvas, but it was going to be something done with delicate, dainty brushstrokes and simple, pretty pastels. In short, something completely calming and one hundred percent nothing like what she felt. Creating something pretty made her feel somehow better about everything, it calmed her and it gave her the illusion that she somehow wasn't just a waste of space. Like maybe when she was gone, somebody would look back, having not known her at all, see a painting or something she'd written, and smile at her name there as its creator. For small moments, here in the art room, alone with her music and her paintbrush, she let herself think that sometimes. But, of course, she always had to return to the real world, something always pushed Anna and her situation back to her. In this case, it was a loudish bang behind her.

Being paranoid, antisocial, and totally zoned out, it was natural that Zaley jumped like a foot in the air. Turning and pausing her iPod simeltaneously, she couldn't help but be relieved when it was just Dylan. The act of shutting off her music had reawoken Anna, who purred and pounced on the oppurtunity of causing poor hapless Zaley some misfortune, something her host only saw as Anna being glad he was here, as she herself was. "Oh, hey Dylan!" She chirped, feeling a smile light up her features, which was an odd thing because it happened so very little since coming here, and even back home (a place not her home anymore). She was really glad she'd gone through the acts of making herself feel pretty to lift her self esteem either, because she knew someone like Dylan probably had lots of girls after him and at least now she looked mildly presentable. Anna nudged her forward, so she set down her paintbrush and leaned against the table, pushing a wavy lock away and smiling at him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

all right, this post is tagged for dylan, and zaley dearest is wearing this and this post is rocking too few words. so, i'd like to thank cartel's song runaway and with that note, go ahead and post yer loverly reply below ^_^

[/font]

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

SO I AM IN THE TWILIGHT OF MY YOUTH, NOT THAT I'M GOING TO REMEMBER
HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOON TONIGHT, IS IT FULL? IS IT STILL BURNING IT'S EMBERS?
THE PEOPLE DANCING IN THE CORNER THEY SEEM HAPPY BUT I AM SAD
I'M STILL DANCING IN THE COMA OF THE DRINKS I JUST HAD
AND I AM IN THE TWILIGHT OF MY YOUTH, NOT THAT I'M GOING TO REMEMBER
DANCING AND SLOWLY FINDING THE TRUTH AND IT'S COVERED IN COMA

[/font][/color]
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •[/center]

Oh, hey Dylan! Crap! Dropping the book totally blew his cover. Taking back the roll of his eyes, he let himself breathe. No use, she knew he was here. Now he had to figure out her mood. Judging by the sound of her voice, she was in a fabulous mood. Looking at her insisted that this was true. She looked really good today with her matching outfit. You could never tell with Zaley and Dylan didn't want to figure her out. He tried to figure out Kara and look where it got him. A vunerable lonely mess who refused any help. No way he would burden the teachers or Charlotte. No matter how much he just wanted to talk to her again. He wished he could tell her what was bothering him and hear some friendly advise because he sure as hell had no idea what to do.

Instead the only company offered to him was Zaley. And she made him afraid- especially today when he was in such an off, bitchy mood. His moods were owning him like he was a dog on a leash. So far, Dylan had managed to refrain telling her all his angry feelings towards Zaley so far. Mostly for fear of what she would do to him for it. Last time he said something rude to a crazy girl he got himself shot. He was able to hide all his feelings underneath his mask, one incredibly similar to the one Kara wore. Nothing got out. But he was ready to crack. His head was so full of shit and weak. How did Kara manage to be so strong at all times? She was so much more better than he was and she was definitely a train wreck in her own way. He was a kennedy train crash waiting to happen.

If only she would leave him alone! If only she knew how her voice just made him want to pull out his hair. Instead he only gritted his teeth and forced some composure over himself. "Zaley..." he said. Did she know he'd been here for a while? "Sorry, you were listening to music and drawing... I didn't want to disturb you..." he said, voice trailing away as he tried to think of ways to safely tear himself away from her company. The way she leaned against the table with an eager expression told him that may be easier said than done. Feeling as if he somehow locked his jaw shut, he turned to put the rest of his books into his locker. He shut it, snapped the lock on. After that moment of convinient stalling, he looked back at Zaley. He was really in no mood at all to act nice to her. He just couldn't do it today.

"Your painting looks good." he complimented, suddenly becoming a kiss ass. He stood awkwardly in the desolate art room, staring at her. Why did she clip herself to his presense? What in the world did he bring to the table for her? What made him so exciting? The tattoos hiding underneath his long sleeve shirt? His stupid cigarette that would kill him when he was old and alone? The look he first gave her when they met. Seriously, how does the look of 'fuck off, go away and get lost' get so misinterpreted. Dylan thought for sure he'd perfected it by now. When did he ever hint he welcomed her friendship until recently when the really fear came. I mean, at first she was pest that he bluntly got away from.

Now he was afraid of the mentally sick mind she clearly had. She was so up and down, roller coaster crazy sometimes. Today she looked positively normal but Dylan didn't trust the disguise. He used it himself. His favorite advanced in depth history teacher asked him if he was doing okay. Like hell, he was. But what was he going to say? 'No, I'm doing horrible. I'm in love with a girl who hates me. I was shot and I'm afraid it'll happen again. I can't stop taking pills and drinking. I want and don't want to go to college because i don't know if I want to life. My only normal friend is mad at me and all my other friend wants to do is do drugs. I feel like a trespasser when I go to mass.'

"I need to get going Zaley, I've got to get to work." he lied, wondering what she would do if she figured out he didn't have a job. What was Zaley capable of? Dylan at first thought she was harmless. He thought Lacey was harmless. Yeah, see why paranoia is engulfing him whole and digging into his spine forever til he just rolls over and dies. Or is killed by Lacey or Zaley. God. God help him.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

TAG - zaley!
WORDS - 807 words
NOTES - don't worry about it! it didn't suck at all! mine is a tad short too. =/
LYRIC - ryan adams