"RUN AWAY, NEVERLAND."
Do not take this ICLY, just a silly writing piece about Grayson Iovan!
Do not take this ICLY, just a silly writing piece about Grayson Iovan!
“I can’t— I can’t re–.. I don’t fucking remember.”
Where do the pages start? A book, an open book.The beginning chapters all ripped, burnt. Many tales he could speak of, anything but the beginning. Iovan’s childhood was nothing but a blur to his eyes, even trying to speak about it– for once nothing could leave his lips.
“All I can remember is the lights above me, the smell of the patients in the rooms near— it was the sight of the hospital.”
“Eighteen years old, the room was completely cold— all I can remember was the amount of blue and monochrome colors that surrounded me. I hated it. Not a single hand to hold there for me, is anyone there for me?”
2014, the date of the ‘beginning.’ – From a long sleep, nothing to recall from the hazy start. Like Sleeping Beauty, but his story wasn’t as gorgeous, a sudden clash to his life, unexpected death and nobody to hold. What he figured was part of the nightmare aspect to his dreams happened to be true, real.
The bitter air, a cold sigh leaving the lips of the poor boy. Eyes on the IV connected, listening to the distant chatter from the hallways, was he meant to be here? – Was this ‘bad luck?’ His feet planted onto the ground- yet his vision felt like he was about to fall off the earth itself, the pain aching at his chest- his arm brought to his ribs whining in pain. A chest injury? His body trembling just trying to stand- using the IV stand to take him around, strolling the halls, quiet, empty halls. Or so, that’s what he perceived, yet the halls filled with screams and cries- chatters in the background, why was it so quiet to him?
“I ran. I ran from the quietness. I despised the lack of comfort there– maybe I should have talked to a doctor.. But all I did was run. Stupidly in my demise, I fell.”
“Funny thing, I got baaasically detained in the hospital due to that issue, I tried too many times to leave. To get rid of that silence. The lady with me tried talking me into understanding I just went through trauma? So running was a . . Trauma response?”
No matter how far you run, it’ll always find its way back to you. – Attempting to flee a place he felt sick and stuck in despite its care, it was quite the unlucky choice– having him slumber in their supervision. The boy who tried running from his dazed views. This wasn’t Neverland, this was reality.
“Take me back to those long nightmares and never ending dreams, I can’t stand it.”