out of reach. [hannah]

[∂αмєη]

[61536C] [4B416B] [59567B]

Steal my heart and hold my tongue.
I feel my time, my time has come.
Let me in, unlock the door.
I've never felt this way before.

A plume of suffocating smoke left his mouth then, starting its journey towards the sky above. Another puff entered into his lungs, filling up the organs with its poison. And once again, it left through his chapped lips as he exhaled. This cycle continued until the cylindrical, paper-like object in between two of the boy's fingers was reduced to nothing but a stub. With a casual flick, the object dropped to the ground and came to a rest on the rugged cobblestone that could be found all throughout District Twelve. Chocolate brown irises were soon covered by eyelids that fluttered closed as the boy allowed the last bit of smoke to exit his body. A short cough escaped from him, and it echoed against the walls of the alleyway. Nobody else was around to notice. Maybe he hadn't even coughed at all.

Callen Ryder stepped away from the wall, bringing his surprisingly still hands up to his hood before pulling it over to cover his head. The rain that was falling was fairly light and the storm that loomed overhead had not yet shown its true power. A burst of thunder could be heard every so often, sending a shiver down Callen's spine. He never really enjoyed thunderstorms, ever since a younger age. They made him jealous in a way. A thunderstorm was allowed to let everything out without being held back, letting its energy explode in a chorus of booms, bangs and claps. And unlike a thunderstorm, Callen never could. His energy was restrained for most of the day, chained down inside of him so it was unable to break free. Although it was a weird thought to have, Callen wished that he could be a thunderstorm. There in an instant and gone just as fast, expressing everything all the while. Such a strange thought.

But strange thoughts weren't uncommon when they came from the mind of the young man. Whether he was under the influence of the energy restricting medication or indulging in a treat such as he had moments ago, his mind was never quite there. Nor did he care. The "drug", as the boy from his class had called it, was supposed to relax him completely. Essentially, it produced the same effect as the medication, minus the terrible side effects and the "chained-up" feeling that came with it. That's why he preferred it. Callen never really wished to enter into the life of drugs but sometimes you're left at a crossroads and you just have to take the darker path. Although, in his eyes, it was the lighter one. Anything was better than the medication. His memory had begun to piece back together since he stopped taking the pills. Maybe everything was better.

Each step he took was loud enough to be heard throughout the whole alley. His shoes were light and his tread usually was too but something about the drug made everything about him heavier. Even his eyelids. They threatened to close and for a brief moment, they did. One foot got caught up with the other and before he knew it, he was stumbling forward. Had he not thrown his hand out to balance himself on the wall, exhaustion probably would have found him while he remained on the cold ground. And so, his palm brushed against the wall as he continued to walk, using the solid wall as support. He had no idea where to go. His home was in the complete opposite direction and would take the better part of an hour to get to. Which left him with one other option.

Three weeks. It had been three whole weeks since he last spoke to her. It wasn't like he didn't try. Several times he found himself standing just a few metres from her door, wishing to discover the words that he needed to say to fix everything in just a moment. He hadn't really done much that needed to be apologized for. Walking away from her without any explanation wasn't too bad. He had done worst before. Much worse. In truth, he never really treated his best friend the way she deserved to be treated. Which was not fair at all. She would do everything for him and all he did in return was go with her to places when she needed somebody. And yet he was her best friend, somehow. It still puzzled him to this day. She could do so much better than him. But he appreciated her. He liked her. In fact, Callen loved Audriana. Probably more than she would ever know.

And now he was standing outside her house. The moon was right above, marking the middle of the night. The rain seemed to increase its power and speed in just a few seconds and soon he found himself standing in a downpour, his clothes sticking to his now wet skin. The thin grey v-neck was plastered against him, showing off the exact shape of his chest. The sweater was also damp, most of his protected by the black leather jacket that completed his outfit. And his hood provided no protecting, leaving him completely and utterly drenched. And all he could hope for was that Audri would open the door and welcome him in. He cupped his hands around his mouth before sucking in air and exhaling her name as loud as he could.

"Audri. Sweetheart. Come out." But there was no point. Nothing even budged in the house. Not one thing. Which left Callen no choice. He walked across the street, throwing his hands up in the air. Thanks for giving me even more shit to deal with. He had no idea who the thought was directed at but it was there. Maybe the drugs were still controlling most of his brain activity. He had no clue. It seemed a logical answer when he ended up stumbling forward, landing on the wet dirt at the edge of the road on all fours. All of his energy was nearly gone. So he pressed himself up against the house nearby and held his head in his hands before closing his eyes to drown out the world.

The wheels just keep on turning,
The drummer begins to drum,
I don't know which way I'm going,
I don't know which way I've come.

[pika]

like ships in the night, you keep passing me by
just wasting time trying to prove who's right
and if it all goes crashing into the sea
if it's just you and me trying to find the light

Moonlight permeates through the dusty glass of the windows in the small shack, and Audriana is far from sleep. Her thoughts are just as scattered and just as loud as the rain smacking onto every exposed inch of the shack, yet the rain will soon fade into a brilliant glowing sky while her thoughts continue to rattle and shake inside her mind. Lightning streaked across the sky with the resonance of thunder trailing after it, and she could feel Clint start next to her. She rubbed her hand on his shoulder blade, his warmth soaking into her skin.

She lie on the floor for what seemed like an eternity, her only judgment of time coming from the inconsistent flashes and booms from the sky's wrath. This weather was not uncommon for District Twelve this time of year, but a storm of this intensity rarely came around. Her eyes refused to shut. They merely fluttered, fighting with all their might to keep themselves open and irritate Audriana to the point of madness.

She sat up as the largest boom from thunder rattled the entire house, the cups and plates in the cupboards dancing and the window actually shaking. Clint stirred uneasily, finally awake. He murmured something, but the sounds and her myriad of thoughts didn't allow her to register what it was. She got up, her tattered blanket trailing behind her like the train of a wedding dress. She had heard of such things from old stories and books; the to-be wife would parade down an aisle with a brilliantly beautiful dress, her loved ones on either side with smiles on their faces. Her husband would be waiting for her at the other end, complete love in his eyes as he watched her come to her, and then they would kiss and then everyone would clap and they lived happily ever after.

Happily ever after was the biggest lie she had ever heard. The closest thing she had to happiness was a boy named Callen. Just the thought of his name brought a smile to her face. She could see his deep brown eyes now, his hair, his smile, his everything, as if she had just seen him yesterday. In reality, it had been many weeks since she had seen him. Audriana wondered if he ever thought of her, if she ever danced through his thoughts once in a while. She supposed not, if he had not come to see her. She knew how he worked, how he thought. His mind was just as jumbled as hers, if not more. But even through everything, she knew that her happily ever after would always be him.

She reached the window, her fingers smudging the grime and leaving fingerprints as she pressed them against the glass. She watched the rain fall, its beauty and intensity mesmerizing. She loved this weather more than any other kind. The sun was too hot and made one irritable, while wind was brutal and smacked you around with little effort. Rain was soft, comforting, and cleansing. She stared uninterestedly at the forest line near her house, knowing that she would see nothing of suspicion in the storm.

Her eyes scanned over to her left, to the house that was kitty-corner to her own. Something fell into the grime and mud of the house, collapsing against its wall. She stared, trying to decide what to make of it. She could see the faint outline of clothes, although the different colors of them were surely indistinguishable in the lack of light. It seemed to be wearing dark colors, but it could have been wearing neon yellow and she wouldn't have known. A flash of lighting blazed through the sky again, and she could see more details. She need not more than half of a second to realize the boy that was huddled against the house was indeed Callen. His look of utter defeat and his lack of energy tugged at Audriana, and she could feel herself growing tired herself.

Why should she help him now? She almost turned around right there, away from the window and away from the sight of his pitiful appearance. He hadn't shown his face in weeks, and even before the sudden hiatus he seemed more distant than ever. Like he didn't even want to be there with her. Why should she give him what he needed right now when he had not been there for her in what felt like a lifetime? There were many instances in the past few months that she could think of where he had not been there, either physically or mentally. If anything, he deserved to sit there in the midst of the pouring rain, cold and defeated. But Audriana knew more than anything that she could not walk back and lie back down next to Clint. Despite what he had done to her, Callen was going to be saved once again.

She stared at the door, prepared to open it and rush out into the rain and cold. There was no use wearing a jacket of any kind; it would be soaked within a matter of moments, and it would benefit her more to put it on after she got back inside. Clint had fallen back asleep while Audriana was stirring through her thoughts, and she hoped that he would not awaken as she did this. She gripped the door handle, coated in grime and coal dust like everything else in the house, and yanked open the door.

The rain hit her instantly, and she flinched as it drenched her with ease. She stepped out onto the porch, closing the door quickly so the house would not get wet. She stared across to the house, and was not surprised to see that Callen had not moved at all. She took one last look at the door to make sure Clint didn't follow her out, and then sprinted across the craggy road. The rain fought at her as she went against it, tangling her already-curly hair and weighing her down as her clothes absorbed the water. She reached him, and discovered that he looked worse from up close than from afar, back behind the shelter of the window.

"Callen," she breathed, her breath catching in her dry throat. She shivered, the rain streaming down her back. "Callen," she tried again, louder and crisper this time. "Come on, you're just across the street from my house," she looked at him, sadness clouding her eyes. What had happened? Both of them had seen things they didn't wish to see, but she always knew that he was better equipped to handle those sights. Something extremely discomforting had occurred to make him act like this. Whatever it was, it couldn't ever be fixed or forgotten.

chasing your dreams since the violent fifth grade
trying to believe in your silent own way
cause we'll be ok, I'm not going away
like you watched at fourteen as it went down the drain

GRAPHIC CREDIT TO CASS.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/color]