Taylor-Anne+Parkinson

The crusty bar stool beneath him protested yet again as he shifted his weight. He trained his eyes to the cracked, faded bar before him. Boyd was crawling around his brain, scratching, protesting, and testing for weak spots. He was getting restless from being stuck within for so long, he wanted the power back, he ached for it. He began to tug memories off of shelves that were better left alone. The dust of agony and pain began to blur his self-control, but he would be having none of that. The second he lost control Boyd would come in; steal away his consciousness, his memories and his eyes. Forcing his eyes up to the spider webbed cracked mirror behind the alcohol that graced the bar-tenders space he studied himself. Hazel eyes, he reminded himself that if Boyd were taking over they would be bright green, not the color he had grown up seeing in the mirrors of hate and distaste. The scar through his left eyebrow was a reminder of the pain. The coppery color that reflected from the lights above was striking, almost a calling card to beautiful women. His cheeks were hollow seeming, tugging your gaze to the scar through the right side of his lips. He followed the scar from his chin up to his nose. His nose still bore the gift from his father; the only good thing that man had ever done to him was send him to school with a broken nose. His 5’11” frame was reminiscent of Atlas. Boyd was getting more forceful, aggressive. He was becoming crueler than he normal is; in most cases one is lead to believe it’s impossible. As his stamina for punishment was beginning to waver the bar-tender approached him with his drink. “Thank god,” he rumbled as the cold glass curled into his fist. //Boyd, // he thought back, //you may have been with me since childhood, but I will **__never__**// //let you have that power over me again.// Memories of intense pain, the flu, and many other physical symptoms ran rampant through his mind. Other images begin to join those, memories that weren’t his…but Boyd’s. Men, women, and places he had never seen before, bedrooms, parks, clubs, it seemed that parts were missing though. There were images of drugs, both illegal and pharmaceutical, as well as gambling, dog fights and many other things that could very well send him away for life. Feeling the need to move he vacated his seat just as a wave of immeasurable pain erupted from the center of his brain, the overwhelming tang of something evil nearly made him explode. His knees almost instantly gave way and his eyesight nearly escaped. He forced his knees straight and his brain to moving his body forward towards the bathroom. He lurched forward. Protesting hinges of the door were almost screaming a warning. If only he had listened. The coolness of the bathroom compared to the bar was not lost on him as he reached the sink just in time to expunge his bowels of their contents. The pain was abating but still present. He turned the faucet on to wash the bile down the drain and rinsed his mouth out. As the water was nearing is mouth he glanced to the mirror. His eyes were startling, more green then hazel. “You’re standing at my sink boy.” The words were slurred and drunken. The man was a typical scraggly bearded drunk that stunk of stale alcohol and sweat. “Man, you need to find a new sink then because this one is a little busy,” he replied, letting the water slip through his fingers. As he turned back to the sink he heard a deep rumble from behind him, almost a contained roar of protest. Quelling the sickness he turned in time to see the glint of a pocket knife being let free. The drunken man slung his arm forward with force. He sidestepped, parrying the blow. Boyd began bashing around in his skull adding to the chaos of the situation. As the drunk’s coiled arm began its motion in reverse, Boyd let a strike of pain erupt between his eyes, it was only through practice that he was able to step back and avoid the glinting steal that ached for his flesh. <span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">He more than willingly complied with the demanding tone. <span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">Once again the drunk swung wide toward his body, instead of stepping away this time he stepped forward into the arch of the swing, blowing acidic air off of his tongue into the drunks face. The drunks head slid backwards slightly, his focus off of his knife. That is when he struck, wrenching the drunks arm behind him and ramming him head first into the mirror and the still running faucet. The mirror cracked pieces falling; the sink and faucet began to groan under the duress of the drunk. The faucet and sink cracked and fell, holding on to only the wall by a pipe. <span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">The drunk was woozy and very unbalanced. Boyd, was subdued for now, the threat placated, turning away he felt a stabbing pain in his side and behind his eyes. Darkness came quickly to steal away his feelings of a cold floor, a not so very drunk man and cruel, cackling laughter in his head.
 * <span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">Slipping into Silence **
 * <span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Heavy','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">You ****<span style="font-family: 'Batang','serif'; font-size: 16px;">know ****<span style="font-family: 'Garamond','serif'; font-size: 16px;">that **** won’t **** keep ****<span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Heavy','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">you ****<span style="font-family: 'Lao UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">drunk ****<span style="font-family: 'PMingLiU','serif'; font-size: 16px;">enough **** to **** allow me **** to **** not **** take **** over. **<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">The words seem to slither through this mind.
 * But ****<span style="font-family: 'Haettenschweiler','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">why **** not ****<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">? I **** managed **** to ****<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;"> destroy the ****<span style="font-family: 'Andalus','serif'; font-size: 16px;">other ****<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">… ****<span style="font-family: 'Britannic Bold','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">personalities **** living **** with **** me ****<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">, ****<span style="font-family: 'Haettenschweiler','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">why **** not ****<span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Book','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">you **** too ****<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">? **
 * <span style="font-family: 'Elephant','serif'; font-size: 16px;">Kill ****<span style="font-family: 'Goudy Stout','serif'; font-size: 16px;">him **** now **

<span style="font-family: 'Microsoft PhagsPa','sans-serif'; font-size: 16px;">When he woke the pain was gone, yet as he sat up he was sitting in water up to his thighs, a product of the broken sink. Slowly raising himself off the ground he reached out to the broken sink, and pulled himself up. Looking up to the shattered mirror, green eyes met his gaze and a smile graces his stolen lips.