Underneath This Skin - 7. You don't fucking know me. I hope.

The next day, when I awoke, I noticed there were plenty of things different about my apartment.

Well, first off, I could feel a mattress underneath me. I didn't remember having one of those. Opening my eyes, I came to see a ceiling that wasn't stained with water marks. What the hell? I turned my head to the side, to try to figure out what had changed within my room. Within my present mode of half-awake-ness, I had just figured some Extreme Makeover; Home Edition crew had come through my house.

Really. Where was Tye?

Though, what I found when I turned my head, was a completely fucking different room.

I think I yelped. I can't be sure. All I know, is that I had found myself on the floor, tangled up in a pile of blankets, thrashing like some sort of undomesticated animal. All of a sudden the door to the room flew open, and very familiar person came stomping into the room. I froze with one foot up in the air, and my arms in mid-flail.

Was that...

Yeah, it was Damon.

"What the hell are you doing?" He muttered, rubbing his eyes groggily. He must have just recently woken up, I presumed. Though, when he spoke, the events from the night before came rushing back to my head.

He had KIDNAPPED me. I opened my mouth, and then promptly shut it. I didn't know what to do. I had completely forgotten about that. He was still looking at me, but now he was grinning snakily. I didn't like the look.

After a few moments, I followed his gaze. Why was he staring at me without saying a word? I soon found the answer, when I realized I was only wearing a tshirt, with my legs spread...

And it was definitely there. Up and all.

Don't you love the morning?

I turned red once more. Fuck, that was becoming a habit. Quickly untangling myself from the blankets, and picking myself up off the floor, I sent him one nasty glare, before running to the washroom, forgetting my aching body.

The one thing that fucking sucked, was the sound of his laughter that followed me.

Time for a really fucking cold shower.

...

Once I had emerged, squeaky clean and shivering, I put on the shirt I had worn the night before, and exited the bathroom. Damon had left once more; but in his wake he had left out a pair of skinny jeans and a top, accompanied by a big sweater - presumably his.

I adorned myself in said clothing, only to find out that they all had tags on them -

he bought me clothes?

I gritted my teeth some to myself, before picking up the note he had left beside the clothing. Now I really owed him. If there was one thing I hated the most in the world, it was being in debt to another human being. Or anything, really. I don't want to even think about how applicable that is to my past.

Shuddering slightly from the thought, I shook my head and pushed the thought to the back of my mind. Thinking about that wasn't going to do me any good. Focusing my attention on the note in my hand, I began to read to myself in my head.

Fuck out loud. I was a willing mute, remember?

TO CADEN:

If you are reading this, I presume you have found the clothing I bought you. Good boy. I have thrown your other clothes away, seeing as I do not want anything that is mine to be dressed in such a manner. I take better care of my things than that.

When you have finished dressing yourself, you are to meet me downstairs in the bar.

Your master,

Damon Veil.

I gritted my teeth some. He owned me? I was no one's. I was a free citizen, like I had been working to be all these years. I hated people who took other people's things, and just presumed them to be their's. My freedom was mine. No one was going to take that away from me.

I stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind me, before making my way down the stairs. If he thought I was just going to listen to his orders that easily, he was dead wrong. I was going to run. Yes, I always fucking ran.

I darted for the back door, as soon as my feet reached the bottom stairs. Unfortunately, Damon had seen me from his seated place in the bar. Jumping quickly out of his chair, he took off towards me.

"Don't let him escape!" he shouted, causing multiple burly men to start chasing me. Throwing open the door, I darted out of it, and began running. Fast. As quick as I could.

I would not be another possession of such a greedy, uppity man.

Again.

...

I had managed to lose them, after a half an hour. I wasn't sure how I did it, considering there was about twenty of them following me. I sighed under my breath, walking down a busy street of the town. I guess this meant I had to move once again.

I figured I could hitchhike over the state border, once I did a round about and gathered my things from my run down apartment.

It wasn't like I was going to be able to pay the rent, anyway.

I walked down the street, freshly washed and groomed. I looked like a completely normal teenage boy to a passerbyer. When I looked at the reflection of myself in the shop window, I felt normal for a moment too.

But only for a fraction of a second.

If anyone were to get to know me, were to look at me for longer than just a fleeting moment, they would probably discover the layers of self-loathing and emptiness passed my skin.

You ever meet those people, that seem to look not at you, as a person, but into your soul?

That make you terrified that everything you've ever done to cover your tracks, and pretend that you're okay, decent, normal is in vain?

Because they make you feel like they know who you are. They know how disgusting you really are. How much of a coward you are. That all you do is run, because you just don't know how to fix anything, or anyone. Or everything.

Everything that you are, you've become, and you'll be. You don't know how to fix it, and they can see right through your fucking facade.

Yeah, I was terrified Damon Veil might be one of those people.