brett vonblaiken, three | cb, fin

[dars]

B R E T T   V O N B L A I K E N

^{SEVENTEEN | DISTRICT THREE}

^{"there was something musical about [him] when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. It was far less hateful sounding than when he didn’t swear."}

               - Maggie Stiefvater

[dars]

Brett Vonblaiken was, at his best, an unreliable narrator. At his worst, he was a pathological liar who liked to make others squirm. Most of the in-between was gritted teeth and screamed curses, bloody knuckles from a losing fight against himself. Because of all the people he'd hurt in his life, Brett himself had to suffer the wrath of his own storms more than anyone else ever would.

He scared himself a lot of times: waking up at his father's grave with a fifth of whiskey in his lap, going out on a Saturday and waking up on a Monday and realizing he'd lost the entire past 48 hours. The fights in school when the only reason he hadn't killed them was because someone got him off in time. The rage. That scared him. The anger which controlled him. Which made him hate, and hit, and hurt. And lie, and steal, and cheat.

But he found a tricky trick to make his mind go quiet and it does such a good job that he can never remember his time on it. He must like it though, right? To keep going back over and over? He must prefer the person it makes him? And... and he should, right? If who he is the ret of the time is so angry and so broken and so- so-

Say it. Trembling eyes in the mirror, faucet water dripping from his chin.

Unlovable.

[dars]

[1/3 according to sheet]
d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

dare to say no to drugs.

he's wonderful & he needs help