posted on 20-Sep-2002 11:01:43 PM by E.T.
Title: Young Doesn't Mean Perfect (Edited, Revised, And Hopefully A Bit Better)
Summary: You guys know it. It's a story that strikes close to reality and all about how growing up and being young doesn't mean that anything is easy.
Author's Notes: There's differences, but basically it's all the same. I mean the POV of the fic this time is focused on one person for a long period of time and not just one part, and the style is somewhat like that new TV show Boomtown, the same school year told in different POV's. Histories have changed and some stories told in a different way because I still gotta. But the plot is the same.
Dedication: *big* This is for all of you guys who read the story (the other one, the old one). You guys know who you are. Thanks for sticking with it... at least I hope you guys are gonna stick by cuz I swear it's gonna be one of hell of a ride!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them to get my point across.

The Observer
Part 1
Chapter 1

" Belonging is a sick drug. Once you get some, you become desparate for more. You want it so bad, you'll do anything for it..."

Max Evans' eyes dart from one object to another. Wall to ceiling. Person to person. Eyes darting everywhere, looking, searching for something, like an animal trapped in a cage. But he's never going to find what he's searching for. And deep down he knows it because this day is always like the rest.

He settles into his spot by the wall. Back against it, backpack by his legs, eyes still moving from one thing to another. Looking for anything that's of interest as everybody passes by. In and out, he focuses on his breathing. Wishing that awkward feeling would wash away. Would disappear into oblivion, all the while knowing it won't. That feeling you can't place your finger on, but you can feel it. Gnawing away at you. Placing a bundle of burden on your shoulders.

Everyone seems to be grouped together. Their own little family built on something more than just blood and genetics. Something he used to have, but doesn't anymore. Something he longs for, but can't have or doesn't want to have. The lines between the two so blurred he can't figure out which is which anymore.

Then they come by and his gaze drops down immediately. Back onto the floor. Back on the candy wrapper that floats through the hallway. Crumpled and broken. They sweep by, with their yells and laughter and friendships he can't help, but envy. Walking by without any acknowledge of existance.

" It's a different party..."

"... You guys are together now?"

Heart pounding, head filled with thoughts. Thoughts swirling so fast, much, much too fast around his head, occupying everything except his vision. And he can't help, but wonder if today they'll invite him in. If today they'll talk to him, or see him. Not through him. Not at the wall or person behind him. See him. Him and not something else.

" You're so slow!"

And they walk by. He watches their feet. Taking a quick look up at their faces, but diverting his gaze quickly back down. Down to the floor where their feet trample so fast past him. Not even a look today. But he should have expected that. He turns the opposite direction they've gone in. The awkwardness back full force. The thoughts now changing back into the what ifs he can control. Back into the past because memories have something that the present doesn't.

The power to be changed into something. Something better. Something he wants it to be. Something. Just something better than the present.

Half his mind on the past, the other on those dreadful thoughts everyone has at one point. If when you decide to end your life, the world will notice. When you're gone will they even know, you've left? Those thoughts that quickly lead to something else. Darker. Worse than the feeling you can't put your finger on because this one, you can put you finger on. It's that feeling where everything is all so hopeless that there seems to be no other choise. That feeling that races through you like a lightning bolt, and at that moment, you feel like you can just do it.

You can just jump over the edge.

Pull the trigger.

Press the blade against your skin.

Take those pills.

It comes quickly. Almost as if it wasn't there, but every thought has a repurccussion and no matter what you'll know you thought it at one point. Morbid thoughts. Thoughts that occured just because he wanted that sense of... of... belonging that everyone seemed to be experiencing, but him. That feeling of safety in the building he stood in. Belonging was a safeguard against the shit of life.

He shook his head. Muttering to himself about his ridiculuos thinking. Shaking his head about how absurb it is, to have a feeling be your protection. Convincing himself he doesn't need just as the bell rings.

Because if he can deny it, then maybe he's safe for another day. Because denial is better than knowing you might just be the only one without something to fall back on. Friends to run to. Friends to lean against. Friend to laugh with.

And it's better than having those thoughts...






Be back with more this weekend. My computer is messed up right now, but this weekend. I promise.

IceRose- Hey don't go! But if you really have to, I'm glad to have known you. I'm glad you liked this fic and um... well I'll miss ya if you're really gonna leave fanfic.

[ edited 3 time(s), last at 5-Oct-2002 1:04:08 PM ]
posted on 25-Sep-2002 7:59:37 PM by E.T.
SweetLilDreamer- Thanks for the feedback. I figured not many would be able to read 5 parts a day so I'll just post one.

Wench on a Leash- Thanks for the feedback and the continued faith in me *big*

LixMix5- Thanks for the feedback.

This part, I dunno when I wrote it probably at night, but I have no time for editing so... Anyway, um just wanted to remind you guys the POV is still the same. It's still Max's, I know I don't mention it, but just remember that it's Max.

Disclaimer I don't own the characters

Chapter 2
He glances down at the hand. Back at the face. Then down again. Wondering whether or not he could trust it. Whether or not he was willing to risk it. Risk feeling. Risk pride. Risk hope.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." She forces a smile on. As if to prove to him all the more she didn't need him. Not anymore. Probably never did need him.


The pavement beneath him filled with cracks and dirt. It flies from under him as he walks a step behind her. Eyes always moving. From one thing to another. From the ground to her back to the street to the houses to the ground.

Out of fear. Out of nervousness. An old habit that he couldn't break. His eyes darting from one item. Never lingering in case everything catches up to him.

The past.

His thoughts.

Himself. Mostly himself.

"You got much homework?"

He shakes his head while shoving his hands in his pocket. His voice seeming to have deserted him as he walked along. It's as though the farther he walks, the farther away he gets from control.

There's never control in her world. It's the very thing that drew him to her. The lack of a certain control. Filled with the unknown. The one thing that can terrify the most bravest of the brave is the unknown. Aliens. The universe. Anything out there that cannot be explained by words or logic.

"It sucks." She stops walking to let him catch up. Her eyes catching his. Her eyes burning through his. She could analyze everything with a look, he's also learned. A better watcher than he could ever be.

"What?" He can pretend to know what she's talking about although he does know. He knows perfectly well.


She gets on the swing as soon as they reach it. Feet kicking off the ground to send her to the sky. The sky was something she felt safe in. Another one of those little things he learned along the way. The sky had something land could never have.



Long. Pause.

"You can loose yourself in lots of things," She whispers so only he can hear. He doesn't need to nod to agree. He knows what happens as he watches everyone pass by from his spot in the hallway.

They all loose themselves in newly formed friendships or the old ones they try to save. Loosing themselves in the expectations of others. Loosing yourself for the sake of fitting in because society can't accept individuals. Not until after they die.

"Yeah." He watches her as he leans against the tube holding the swing set up. Watching her hair fly back as she swings up. His eyes burning holes into her.

"What'd you have to write about in English today?" She takes a quick look back at him. Eyes finally part of the smile.

He grins back, " Safety."

"Another one of those childhood myths." He adds cynically. Rolling his eyes, he continues. " I mean, nobody's ever safe. Maybe 'til they reach a certain age cuz then you learn to worry about shitty things."

"Exactly!" She pauses. " What'd you write?"

"Just... shit." He shakes his head. Eyes back on the ground to avoid being forced to tell the truth.

Safety to him is being 6 once again and riding in the front seat of the car.

Safety is listening to old sort of music parent's like, listening as the last notes of the song drifts of into the night, disappearing like smoke in the night sky before another begins.

It's sitting there being lulled to sleep by the hum of the engine and letting your father do the worrying because you're too young to know the downside of life.

A car horn erupts in the fall air. Sending him back into reality. Back to staring at the her back. Back into the reality where he is nothing, but a face in the background. An invisible face in the crowd.

"Who's that?"

Their voices echo in the small park. Echo through the crisp warm autumn air.

"Someone. Let's go." Her hand on the boy's arm as he watched from his spot. She gets into the car and watches him through the window. Staring back as if to send him a message. Her eyes fill with remorse. Expression subdued. As if she's going to her own prison.

He stares back, gaze unwavering although he feels loss. Feels betrayal. Mind wondering why she keeps leaving even though she hates it. Searching desperately for the answer that he can't figure out. Feeling at the same time uneasy with being left alone, as if being all by yourself is a disease he so desperately wants to be rid of.

The eyes are the window to a person's soul.

Liz Parker's eyes were anything, but a portal to her soul. Her eyes ended at one point. Just before they hit her soul. Just before he could see through her. Keeping herself hidden from the world.

A task he was lousy at and great at all at the same time.
posted on 4-Oct-2002 9:46:50 PM by E.T.
Sorry I don't have much time to write individual thanks you's for the feedback, so for all those who left feedback thanks!!!

Grrrrr. Whoever knew school could take up most of my time on weekdays??!?!?! Sorry guys, but with the way school's been going, I'll only be able to get on the internet on weekends or maybe Tuesdays.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters

Chapter 3
His feet pounds at the asphalt beneath him. His breathing quick and deep. Each gulp of oxygen like heaven for his lungs. The music pounds at his ears. Chipping away the tension slowly. The night air so cold, but it doesn't bother him. All he can think of is escaping the chaos. Running quickly around the block. Farther from his home. Farther from the chaos that has him trapped.

He stares up at the starless sky. The moon so lonely alone. Sticking out, but at the same time always disappearing behind those clouds. The clouds were stronger than the moon. The moon nothing, but a rock that can reflect light.

He can feel the chaos trying to catch up and he quickens his pace. His legs aching. His lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, but he doesn't want it catching up. Doesn't want it trapping him for just a moment.

He closes his eyes and feels the chaos wrapping around him. Memories catching up as he slows his pace down. Unable anymore to run.

He can feel the tug at his mind. Reliving the few minutes ago that his crazy world finally caught up with him.

" Brianna hang up the goddamned phone!" He screamed over the running water. His hands covered in suds as he rinses out the dishes. His eyes flashed with anger as his sister waved him off. Her back turned to him, her stuck in the air as she continued her conversation.

The anger so overwhleming, he's ready to choke her. Ready to kill her as he stands there ignored. He could punch her if he wanted to. Beat her up until she was nothing, but a pile of blood and bones.

"Brianna don't fuck with me!" He rinses his hands out under cold water. The water so cold, he can feel his hands numbing under it. Loosing feeling as the soap washes of. " Get off the phone, now!"

He reaches her with three leaps. His hands curling around the phone as he snatches it away. His knuckles white as he holds the phone tight. He hated it. Having to be the one to set the rules. Having to be the parent in the house. Having to be the only thing his sister had to rely on.

He wanted to yell at her. To tell her how lucky she was being able to be a kid. Having a childhood to remember. One not filled of freeways and cars and diners. No sign of motel rooms with crappy beds and weird smells. One without friends, with so many different blurry faces he couldn't connect with anything.

"Bastard," She mumbled under her breath. Eyes turning hard as she stalked off. His hands reached out to spin her around. Ready to lecture her. A speech formulating in his mind. But his hands catched nothing, but air. His ears left listening to a door slamming shut.

"BRIANNA!" His fist banging upon the door. Hands hurting from hitting the wooden door.

His mind can barely register what he's feeling. Anger. Anger that wanted out. . Anger he couldn't reason with. Feet kicking at the door. Curses flying out of his mouth. Hands still banging at the door. He wanted to punch her at that moment. Ready to kill her with his bare hands.

The front door flies open and a figure darts straight for the study, right in the middle of everything else.

"Da-" His voice interrupted by the sound of another slamming door "-d!"

And at that moment he wanted to scream. Scream until everybody would listen. Until the wall would stop blocking his voice. Until the world would face him.

Like some bomb, his mind exploded. No longer could he put up with it. He ran grabbing his discman lying on the couch. Ready to slam his own door. The door that led away from this house.

His feet fly from under him. Thoughts so blank as he leaves it all behind. His focus only on his destination.

Back into his home. Back into the chaos...

... Back into the world that kept pulling back, never letting him leave it successfully.
Hope you liked it. Be back next week.