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l o l

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📸: Grant Spanier

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[if-walls-could-talk]

5SOS | Tomorrow. 9am PT.

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Masterlist

here you can find any and all of my works compiled into one post, just for you! please let me know if this is broken or anything like that :)!

Mental Illness Related - Borderline

Original Characters - Vermilion • part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4 • part 5 • part 6

Poetry - "You deserve to be loved."

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vermilion: part 6

being human, it takes so much effort. so much skill i never thought i would need to put in.

at first, when you take the identity of someone else, you think it'd be easier to go after older targets. nobody would miss them, they'll die anyway, right? it's true. but then again they decay quicker. die quicker. my existence isn't enough to keep them going. not enough to keep the body breathing and pumping blood. even then, do i really need to breathe or exist? all my existence does is put a shield around this body i'm in, protect it from harm. eventually it'll wilt without me trying.

i spent a decade learning what it means to be human.

i made a mistake with vermilion. when i told them i knew my way around the capital, i was only partially lying. i know how to get to some parts of town, after all, i had to study this woman in full in order to figure out the right time.

i made the mistake of letting people see me. they know her. i don't know them.

i spent a decade learning to be human because i don't function as one by default. i observed and watched and made poor choices on my part when it came to who i targeted. is it my fault? sure. but i hold no love for those around me. i hold no truly human emotion, no real expression. i practiced facial expressions in cruddy bar bathroom mirrors during the day, hoping it would get me somewhere. all i've learned is how to remain neutral. i tried to live the life these people lived before me only to learn i don't obtain their memories. i watched the hurt on a woman's face when i couldn't remember her name.

maybe that's what hurt the most. watching the way emotion drained out of someone's loved ones. watching how they played it off as amnesia but truly their family member was dead and had been for months prior. eventually, it becomes too much, and soon you're watching the funeral of the person you pretended to be. i'm not capable of crying, of empathizing with them. truly, i have no heart. but if i could be sad in the way humans are, i'd be the saddest being of all.

learning to be sad was the toughest thing. the first time i cried i thought i was falling apart, until i watched someone else cry, and it was surreal. but what i was crying for i couldn't tell you. sad is a color to me, nothing physical.

if i could be human it would be painful, i've decided. if i were a human, i would've killed myself before i made it to any valuable age. there is nothing in a human's life worthy of the pain that comes with it. i think those among me are stronger, for that reason. i think the same can be said for the experiment, version 12, who can't handle its emotions to save its life. it gets a pass, it looks human enough. and my so called friends are so gentle to it as well.

if they knew me for who i truly am, they wouldn't be so gentle. their friendship is temporary, or really, isn't real to begin with.

you can't befriend a monster.

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vermilion: part 5

children are unbearable to witness. people with their parents are unbearable as it is.

i guess there's a misunderstanding here. i don't have a family. they wouldn't count, they aren't human. we're not human. but neither is any other species besides humans with normal parents.

when you are void of physical expression other than color, it's almost like they can see right through you. at home, your emotions bounce off each other's, and everyone can see what you feel. you are a brand new window, or rather, it's like everyone has put on their first pair of glasses in a while. the kind you wait a month for from the chain eyeglass stores and it's a brand new prescription, and the lenses are brand new. you can see, it's all in crisp detail. that's what it's like to be there. if it breathes it holds a color, an energy. if we aren't matched, it becomes easy to offset one another. they'll try to pin point you when the balance is disturbed. who was upset first? who was angry first? guilt, pain, anger, sadness, envy…it's all visible.

we are fragments of one unit. everything i do was meant to fall in line. i hear it every time i have a moment of silence. the screams. i can feel the corner where two walls of a place i called home collided with me, or rather, i collided with it.

they wanted to know so desperately why i would offset the balance this way, why my arrogant decision was made, if it was worth it.

sure. maybe as the whole being we once were, people were able to accept that we existed. let us live in peace so long as we didn't bother them. i overstepped a boundary but they refused to understand. refused to understand how much the ringing in my head hurt hearing about the things that woman did. it didn't seem to bother them; they forgave her too quickly. i never did. something tells me she knew this.

it wasn't my intention, to hurt as many as i did. sometimes i wish i took the identity of a child to understand how easy it is for them to be loved. but parents know things too easily when it comes to their own children. they would notice if something was different. i didn't mean to…

i wasn't supposed to- why did i?

do they know about us? do the people around me know what i am truly? if they did, what would they do?

i have nowhere else to go.

i have nobody else to go to.

maybe for once i want to be human, temporary as it may be.

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vermilion: part 4

i owe these people nothing. no explanation, no hint of my true self. or maybe lack thereof.

yet i feel their eyes on me as a being made in a lab calls me a fraud. how will i cover myself up now? but i seem to have convinced them. they're starting to wonder as well. why i need to keep defending myself, what the strangers who seem to meet me seem to hate me instantly.

they owe me no defense and yet choose to defend me regardless.

maybe that's not what they're truly doing. maybe they believe the strangers trying to strip me of an identity that isn't mine. maybe i am here at the hands of their sympathetic glances.

it almost gave me away, being shot in the head and nothing coming of it. you cannot kill what isn't meant to die. you cannot kill the piece of a hundreds of years old entity, not with the use of some foolish weapon. i admire renn's want to keep me safe, or rather, to not hurt me. yet i would rather he did damage than touched me with the curse he bears. he will die just as his friend did. humans aren't meant to bear the weight of life or death. that is what merideth failed to understand.

don't mistake me as a person who wants to protect others from this. they can't control whether or not they have this ability. it's not their fault. yet i want them dead. i want them to feel their humanity. and for that i hope that renn doesn't fight too much against me.

i can feel the energy change when someone sees me. i do not know the person who i chose to take the form of. maybe in undertow did they mind their business; the woman i pretend to be would never venture beyond the capital. here, they know her. i walk a thin line.

they call it viz. to me, and to himself, he is version 12. were there 11 before him? are they present? or had they defected, and he has yet to do so?

regardless, he challenges me. he throws the name of merideth in my face and i play my oblivious act. i've chosen well, i can hide my purest form in the shade of her hair, her eyes.

he seems indestructible but truly he is not. i watch his mannerisms unfold at the challenge of processing his own emotion. experiments are never meant to hold any of that. he will defect someday.

if i do this wrong, i will have no one. i have had no one. i am not wanted and do not have permanent sets of friends. renn and kiara have known each other for what seems forever. marc gets along with everybody in his presence. lucien seems to fancy renn but it's not like it'll get too far, after all, lucien has disappeared.

love and like and friendship does not exist at home. either way, i am not welcomed anymore. i fear that maybe i will crack at anyone's attempt to befriend me or to care for me.

then again, do i deserve such domestication?

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vermilion: part 3

i wasn't exiled after killing 13 people

you aren't really who you say you are i am then what's your name? vermilion. why do none of you believe me when i say that? you don't even believe it yourself.

it's like i'm see through, crystal clear, transparent. none of these people that i am grouped with can see through me, yet somehow, some random people just notice.

exiled, sure. but i did what was right. playing god isn't right, killing god seemed fair. i didn't intend to miss.

peace stopped being an option when i became the target, when figures of red wanted me gone. i'm called a traitor but i thought i was saving us the trouble.

i've lost my way home, lost the identity i've so desperately tried to take hold of. so what if i don't believe it myself? maybe i don't believe i exist at all. maybe it would've been better that way, had i ceased.

the person they're looking for has no connection to me yet i feel as though something is telling me to trust this person instead. he sounds worse than me, like someone my 'family' would've killed as opposed to exile. maybe he was exiled and he's just lying his way through this, too.

merideth. have you no clue what you've done? to give humans the power to heal and dare set one in front of me, is it to mock me? to spit in my face? i wish i'd gotten rid of torna, gotten rid of you. then i'd get rid of your followers too.

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vermilion: part 2

you were given a legacy, the chance to reclaim the title that belongs to us. they have no memory of our impact, our triumphs. no memory of the fear we instilled in their ancestors. it is up to you, reliant on you, to wake it from its prolonged dormancy. you will find another to join, but they are not one of us. a resource. stray from your path, return unsuccessfully, and expect to be shown what their ancestors saw from us.

another gone. a life stolen. you watch a town from a safe distance as it mourns the most recent missing person.

foolish girl. you look a child in the eyes and ask such inflammatory questions. do you know what this child does? what the child's mother does? of course not. destruction does not need to remember friendships or families.

this group of people, they ask you how you got to where you are, and you lie. say you abandoned a degree in medicine. how ironic of you to claim the title of a doctor when you do the opposite of what a doctor does. why help the people you will destroy sooner rather than later?

a voice, a memory. one that speaks your name.

you are born from pain and will leave in pain, will continue your existence in pain.

why?

there are things you don't yet know of, child, but soon you will learn. the world owes us favors, owes us an apology. you need to make them remember.

how can i remember if i don't know what they forgot?

you'll see.

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vermillion: part 1

it's almost unsettling. this is supposed to be some room, yet there is a familiar place. a few people who might call you an acquaintance or - at most - a friend surround you, and you're unsure.

these are not your friends. you did not leave to find friends. you did not leave to be friendly. you're the product of horror.

it's not something you remember well. you don't remember why you should hate these people so much and yet something whispers in your ears to call you a traitor, insinuating these odd yet harmless people are bad. something in you believes them. you vaguely remember your purpose, hide a smile watching these "friends" anger trees. it's such a fantasy to them, or you think it might be. it doesn't seem like they have a single clue why the trees release such a cloud of color when provoked.

the three houses you come upon have nothing thought provoking until you enter the third, and suddenly it's almost painful. the whispers, the screeching they turn into when provoked. the others seemed confused; all they can hear is your responses. you avoid saying the wrong thing, they could find out. but yet, you want to soothe the voices. explain your "betrayal".

it's a fruitless endeavor. no matter where you go you carry the label of a traitor, a fraud, the black sheep of a clan you grew up in. it takes everything to suppress the ever changing aura of yours. you're frustrated and want to let it go, shatter an image that others hold of you. shatter an image the past holds of you.

the woman whose identity you've taken, was it worth it? was her beauty, her education, her status? do you hold no shame for your crime, enta?

no.

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"you deserve to be loved."

it doesn't feel that way. it feels like i am fooling everyone. even now i feel as though i am fooling you and yet you have seen me for what i think i am, and still you tell me that i deserve to be loved. you still talk to me. you still call me pretty. you probably know how fragile my heart is and you hold it so well. with medical grade gloves and a gentle grasp.

how long will it take me to trust myself to love again? do i trust myself enough to let things play out? do i trust myself to love you the way i should?

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Wake up….. hes here