Okay... So I was really bored today.. and even though I only had one hand to write with I came up with this story.. I am really depressed now and I think this story reflects that, not that I use drugs, or alcohol of any other kind of stuff. This is another AU story. Hope you like it!
He wanted a friend, anyone who could understand him. From his black hair to his black fingernails, he was misunderstood. He was an outcast. No one on this earth knew him, so how could anyone possibly love him?
They probably didn’t even want to know him; he wouldn’t even be anyone to them anymore. Along time ago, he was a solider just like his dad but the war came. After that Noah Mayer was never the same, he had seen hell, the devil starting him right in the face, laughing. When he came home, everything change, he change into someone else.
He could not divulge his life to anyone because Noah could not trust anyone, he had tried and every time he let someone into his heart, the stabbed him.
He knew he needed help, that how he was living now wasn’t good at all. Maybe that was the worst part of all of this; Knowing he was going screwed up, again. If he didn’t know, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. He wished he didn’t know, but the fact was, that he did know, and that terrible reality made him even sad, that he didn’t change.
But, if Noah didn’t know, then he would be like all of the others… He would be like all of the other cutters, druggies, alcoholics and sluts stalking this bedeviled world. They all seemed to be as happy as Noah knew to be possible. However, to the ones around him, he probably looked relatively happy too. He probably looked like he has learned to accept his life...But, despite that facade, he hasn’t and knows that he will never accept this hell presented in the form of a life.
Why was he the one to survive? Why was he the one with all the glory when all of his friends were burned and dead by know, for doing their job, for saving lives? How come he was the one that sleeping at night with nightmares haunting him, every night? What kind of life was that?
He looked around in his tiny kitchen, no alcohol tonight, every bottle was gone. Noah was too tired to try to go to the store to buy one and he was pretty sure that they had closed anyway. He had to use something else, to try to comfort his needs.
Noah gasped as he dug the knife into his arm just deep enough to sever the shell his world had callused. The blade dug just deep enough to feel the pain-to feel something, but not to make him bleed to death, even if the thought itself was very tempting at the moment.
He released a shuttering, almost elated breath, loving the moment before the numbness set in.
Tears filled his eyes.-Eyes that have seen far too much. Noah sunk into his pillow and screamed.
He felt nothing. No tears. No pain. No life. It was as it should be…
Angered, he whipped his body into a sitting position and clutched the knife tighter in his hand. Slicing it across his arm, he screamed because he couldn’t feel it. He screamed so loud, that Noah’s throat scratched and gave out, but he didn’t feel it. His breaths were shallow and loud. The air hardly graced his fiery lungs.
Noah slammed the knife down and reached for the half-smoked, pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the table beside the bed that he was sitting on.
His shaking hand pulled out a smoke and as he perched it between his lips, he worked very intently on igniting the lighter. “Damn piece of shit!” He screamed, realizing that he needed something stronger than a Marlboro for this to work.
Noah spit out the cigarette and went digging in his drawer for the right craved drug. Picking up the floor of the drawer to reveal his harder, illegal stash, he snatched up the water pipe and the capsule of crack cocaine.
“Finally!” He hissed behind the pipe as he saw the lighter produce a glistening, yellow and red flame.
Even before the pipe was lit, Noah was inhaling the capsule that brought her saving grace. This was tangible heaven. The closest thing to heaven Noah knew he’d ever see. He felt the euphoria immediately.
The only time he could feel, was when he was high. He wanted to be able to feel like this all of the time. He needed to feel like this, so that’s what he strived for every moment of his Hell, to forget the pain for a moment, to forget himself. Noah inhaled deeply, his mind rose higher. His mind rose above problems, above numbness, above life...
When Noah awoke, he wasn’t alone. There was a man staring at him.
“Shit. What happened?” He demanded to know, when did he pass out?
“Good morning, Sunshine. Did you sleep well?” The stranger asked with a smile on his face.
“Who the hell are you?” Noah asked looked around in the room, he was still in his house, that was a good sign.
“Fine, thanks, how are you?” The man smiled again and came closer. He was in his late twenties and if Noah had his wits about him at all, he would have thought he was very hot, and angelic. Hi had a face of an angel. He was skinny with muscular arms, and blond, shaggy hair. He wore a hairless face and deep eyes that sort of reminded Noah of warm chocolate.
“Who are you? Did we do business last night, because, uh, I rarely do business in my apartment.” Noah sat up, his head was pounding and the room was spinning. “Damn it.” He said, holding his head.
As he did so, the man scoffed. “No!-And we’re not about to!”
“Then, what are you doing here?” Noah demanded, again
“Uh, I was sent here.” The man answered.
“What? By who? If you’re looking for my dad, I don’t have any idea where he is.”
The man shook his head. “I’m not looking for your dad. You’re Noah, right?”
“Hi. The name’s Luke. I’m looking for you.”
Noah nodded slowly. “Okay. Excuse me.” He said and got up from the bed and went for his desk drawer.
“Can’t. Flushed.” The stranger answered.
Noah glowered up at him. “You flushed my shit?”
Luke shrugged. “They’re not good for you.”
“Like Hell!” He got up and moved toward the toilet.
“They’re gone.” Luke insisted.
Finding he was right, Noah spun back toward him. “You’re going to pay for that!” He hissed. “Every fricken milligram!”
“I’m here to save you.” The man said simply.
“I don’t need to be saved, so, just get back on your white horse, and go find someone to annoy!
Luke sighed. “Right. Are you really happy?” He asked.
“Of course I am! I am my own person! I can do whatever I want, whenever I want!”
“Yeah. No one cares what time you’re home, what you do for money, or what you ingest.” Luke smirked. “Sounds like paradise.” He nodded.
“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you are going to get out of my room and out of my life right now!”
Luke shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Noah asked, crossing his arms. This guy was seriously pissing him off, big time.
“Because I can help you.” Luke said calmly.
“I don’t want your help!”
“Yes you do.” He answered simply. “Anyone who thinks crack or alcohol is stronger than themselves-better than themselves, wants help whether they admit it or not.”
Noah breathed a deep sigh. “Fine. If you won’t leave, I will.” He turned toward the door.
“Noah, do you want to die like this? If you walk away from me, you’re going to die. I am the only one keeping you from death right now.”
“Screw you! Death doesn’t scare me!” Noah laughed and turned toward him again. “Death is probably better than my life.”
“Your life now, maybe, but the life toy can lead?”He looked at Noah meaningfully and shrugged slowly. “Do you really want to chance that?”
Noah’s humorless laugh was reduced to a chuckle. “My life can’t be helped. My life is always going to be my hell.”
“Yeah. If you die now that is all your life is going to become.”
Despite himself, Noah moved back toward him. “So what? You are going to help me?”
Luke nodded and held out his hand. “Yes, I’m going to help you.”
“How? What? You got some miracle drug? Some it’s A Wonderful Life 101 crap?”
Luke laughed. “No. Just come on!”
Noah liked his laugh. It gave him a feeling. It gave him a good feeling. He was happy. What else do you have to lose? Noah thought as he moved toward him.
“Where do you want to go?” Luke asked
“What?” Noah was puzzled by the question.
“Anywhere” Luke shrugged. “Where do you want to go?”
Luke sighed. “You’re hanging between life and death right now, do you really think we have any bounds?”
“Okay.” Noah said. “Could we go to...Paris? I love Paris and I’ve always wanted to go to the Louvre” Noah half expected Luke to say that there was no way in hell, or heaven, or wherever he was, just to prove him wrong, but to his sheer and utter surprise, Luke smiled at him.
“Perfect.” He said. “Close your eyes.”
A moment later, Noah heard his voice, soft and content, in his ear. “Okay. Open them.”
Noah could not believe it. He was staring at Mona Lisa. His jaw dropped as he turned and found that he was indeed amongst guest of this historic museum. He turned to Luke. “Oh, my God! You did it! I’m in the Louvre! Oh, my God!” Noah felt excitement speed through his body. Excitement, he hadn’t felt that in a long, long time. It was an emotion that didn’t exist in his world anymore.
“So, you do believe in him.” Luke passed under his breath.
However, Noah was not listening. “I can’t believe this!” Tears came to his eyes: Tears of joy. He felt them! He felt a different sort of happiness at that moment. He felt true happiness! Beautiful
happiness! “Thank you!” He exclaimed and embraced Luke.
“Ah! Oh...uh, you’re welcome. Uh, Noah?” He chuckled. “People can see us and...You know that, right?”
“I don’t care! Thank you! Noah looked up at him in amazement.
“Uh, sorry Noah. I...”
He released Luke and turned back to the art he loved; the art he had always wanted to see.
After his eyes hungrily observed every painting and sculpture left of exhibit from all of the greatest Roman, Greeks, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, Islamic, and of course, French artists, Noah and Luke decided to go eat in the glass pyramid. “Yea, this thing was built by an American, actually. I.M. Pei.” Luke shrugged. “Umm! French cuisine! Lovely! Ever had it?”
“Does McDonald’s count?”
“Oh, Mac-Dough?” He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m talking about real food.”
Luke smirked and said, “Elle est belle musee, oui? Le Louve?”
Noah turned towards him. “I said I loved art, not that I knew a word of French.”
“D’accord! D’accord! J’ai desolea., mas-ami. Uh...tu-as tres tres belle.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re saying, Luke!” He was amused, despite himself.
“I said, it’s a beautiful museum, yes? The Louve?-Okay, okay. I’m sorry my friend.-Then...I said...Uh...I said that you are very...very...you know what, I’m hungry.” He quickened his pace.
“I’m what? Painfully screwed up?” Noah teased, even though he knew that was the description for him.
Luke shook his head. “No. They don’t have that expression.”
“Okay, then, I’m painfully fu-”
“No!” He replied quickly. “In that language, that means seal.”
Luke nodded. “So, no. I didn’t say you were all seal-ed up.”
Despite himself, Noah laughed. Humor; something Noah had not had in a long, long time. It felt good.
At the restaurant, which was really a street corner café, the two of them ate crepes and drank what Noah could only describe as a bowl of milk with a little bit of really, really strong coffee.
“So, you said you love art. Do you create any yourself?” Luke asked taking a sip of his milk with a little bit of coffee.
Noah hesitated, but then nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Cool! What do you do?”
“I paint and I draw.-Sketch...”
“Can I see?”
“What?” Noah thought that he had heard wrong for a moment.
His rough tone caught Luke off guard. “I want to see what you do.-If you want to show me.” He spoke cautiously.
Noah had never shown anyone his pieces. He was afraid of rejection. His art was the only thing he’d ever produced that meant anything. His art, just art in general was the only thing that made him feel special, unique. His art was his purity. His art and his feelings were the only things that only his mum saw. No one else had ever seen it. It was still pure. He feels through his pieces. He could’t...
Noah looked up at Luke. Luke was staring at him with very welcoming, soft, almost loving eyes. He was looking at him with respect. He looked at him like he knew him.-Really and truly knew him. He for some reason wanted Luke to really and truly know him. Noah suddenly wanted Luke to love him.
“Okay...” Noah inhaled deeply and for once, was very thankful that there was not a puff of a drug was not following his inhale, ready to infest his lungs. “I guess.”
Luke smiled at him. “Thank you.” He was quiet for a moment, but then spoke with reservation.
“You know, I want to tell you something, Noah.” He fidgeted in his seat.
“What is it, Luke?” Noah asked, inching across the table towards him.
He then got very nervous. “Uh...well, I know what you...I used to be...When you die...” He took a deep breath, let it out, and then stated very simply, “When you die, you don’t feel anything, Noah.”
Noah doubled back. “What? What do you mean? How do you know that?”
“Cause...I did-but I’m not now!” He passed quickly. He took another deep breath. “It was a drug overdose, but I was revived. I was saved… If you pull through, you will be great.” He gave a boosting chortle. “You could be a great artist. I feel honored that you’re letting me see your work.”
Noah felt his cheeks get hot. Am I actually blushing? He thought, but let himself feel the blush. He felt the blush intently and he liked it. “Come on! Let’s go! I want to show you my stuff.”Luke put some European money on the table and then he told Noah to close his eyes.
“Okay. We’re back.” Luke said to Noah.
Noah opened his eyes and went for the mattress. He pulled apart the two sides of the slit in it and dug deep until he found his sketch pads. Luke sat on his bed next to him as he handed him his paintings and drawings, Noah’s hands were shaking. As Luke took the pad with one hand, he covered Noah’s lightly with the other.
Luke’s hand felt warm and comforting. “Noah, if you don’t want me to...”
“No!” He insisted. “I really do...want you to. I promise! Please!”
“You sure?” Luke asked
Noah smiled weakly, dropped his sketch pads into Luke’s hand and turned his hand to hold Luke’s, which strangely gave him the strength to say, “Yes. I’m sure.”
Luke smiled softly back at him. “Thank you.” He took back his hand and carefully turned the cover page of the pad on top.
Noah bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, so that he would not see his initial reaction.
“Oh, my God!” Luke gasped.
“Terrible?” Noah asked trembling.
“Terribly beautiful! Oh my God! This is...great!”Luke sounded sincere, like he really meant it.
Slowly Noah opened his eyes and looked down at the picture Luke was looking at.
“Was this here?”
“Yeah. Last year. Right out that window.” Noah nodded toward the now boarded up window. He had to cover it after He got really violent while He was on one of his trips and broke it with his fist. It was a shame. The window was shattered and so the nice view he had gotten from it was no longer available. It was either the view or safety from the elements.
In that particular picture, the ground was covered with a coat of fresh snow. Real snow-not cocaine. The wind had swept the white beauty up against the fence, the neighbor’s fence, and the old shed Noah’s mum had put up before she was killed in a car accident. The shed was old and probably infested with everything under the sun now, but it was still beautiful to Noah. What he remembered of his Mum lives on in that old shed. Noah didn’t see any mold, any decay, or any age in that old shed.
Sometimes, when he was smaller, especially right after his mum died, when he was seven, he would sleep out there and spend all night remembering him.
Noah would reminisce about how she would bring him in there, set him down on her workbench, and let him help her build things. The sights and the smells brought him back to a world he knew. A world that was shattered with one chime of a doorbell.
In this particular picture, a blue-jay was perched on the fence and the light in the shed was on.
When the light was on, his mum was working there.
Noah was high when he painted it, so there probably wasn’t a blue-jay on the fence, and he knows the light hadn’t been on. The power was cut from there years ago.
He remembered painting this, but nothing else until the next morning when he woke up on the floor of that shed. Still, the paintings evoked feelings of a better life. All of his paintings did,
“It’s beautiful!” Luke exclaimed. “I love it!”
Noah blushed again. “Thank you.” It was now that he realized why he liked Luke.
“A young Da Vinci . I swear to God.” As Luke poke, Noah’s head snapped up.
“What?” he asked.
“I said, you’re a young Da Vinci. This is really good!”
Noah chuckled nervously as tears started to drop.
“What’s the matter?” Luke tilted his head, his voice tinted with worry. “Noah?”
“I love you.” Noah said suddenly. He hadn’t meant to, but when his jaw dropped, those were the words that fell out.
Without thinking, Noah reached out, threw his arms around Luke’s neck, and pressed his lips up against Luke’s.
Luke wrapped his arms around him and returned the kiss. Luke held him close and fell deeper into the kiss.
No drug could ever give him the euphoric feeling that raced through him veins at that moment.
He had kissed a lot of people. Sometimes, he had kissed them tastefully, and sometimes he had kissed them raunchily to get a paycheck, but He had never got this feeling before. Every part of him was alive!-More alive than they had ever been! The calluses seemed to melt off him and his heart fluttered.
All Noah wanted to do was get closer to Luke. He wanted to be as close as he could possibly get. When they both fell back onto the bed and started to undress, he for once, wanted to do this. He needed to do this. He was not just going through the motions of having sex. He loved the feeling welling up inside him that just kept getting stronger, clearer, better, fresher, purer!
After they had made the best love she had ever thought, no, far better then he had ever thought it was possible to make, Noah lay in his arms, totally and utterly content.
“I love you, Noah.” Luke whispered, pulling him closer.
Feeling his love ultimately, without anything but emotion, she replied, “I love you too, Luke!” He replied softly, meaning every word of it. Soon he was sleeping against Luke’s chest, not feeling anything except pure happiness, something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“You stupid bitch!” Noah heard his dad scream. “Why the hell would you do this to me? Your own father”
“Dad?” Noah said, trying to wake up all the way.
“Don’t you Dad me you little drugged-up freak!”
Noah opened his eyes and saw his dad red-faced and glaring at him. “Dad, I’m sorry!”
“I have missed to dates and a meeting for you, you little...”
“Well, maybe if you missed a little more for him, he wouldn’t be here.” A voice came from behind Noah’s dad.
Noah looked up with surprise while his dad spun around with fury.
“Oh, Doctor, you are going to protect this little whore?” His dad exclaimed, outraged.
“Mr. Mayer” Dr Bob hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I think you better leave this hospital room right now or I will personally make sure that you do”
Winston exited the room quickly, his footsteps echoing. “Now, Mr. Mayer” Dr Bob said and turned to Noah. “We almost lost you there for a moment, I hope that you realize what kind of situation you are in right now, and let me tell you it’s not a good one”
But Noah didn’t listen; he was still thinking about is dream, or was it a hallucination? Whatever it was, it felt so real and it wasn’t until now he realized how much he wanted it. He had lived in his shell for so long, trying to hide and forget that in the end he had lost himself.
Noah snapped about of his daydreaming and looked at the doctor. “I know what I need to do” He said, more to himself then to bob, but he knew. And perhaps his Luke was out there, somewhere, but what he did know was that he wanted to live again, feel, to being a living dead and know he had a plan…
So.. should I go on or not?