This is short or slightly longer text, perhaps some already known and as the title suggests, FSK 18th Think it is a short story by ...
Hope Against Hope
A cold winter night, a city that never sleeps really , a cheap motel, a run-down room. Darkness envelops the naked, trembling body of the young man crouched in the corner of the bath sits. The legs pressed tightly to his body, his arms around it. The heavy head on his knees, fingers bore into his pale skin. Empty his eyes, silent tears found their way across his pale cheeks. The eyes reddened, the emerald green pales in what once so full of life beamed. Fear, despair, pain, palpable in the small, narrow space. No word breaks through the unbearable point, no comfort to find its way to the dilapidated bathroom. No pride, no strength, no love, no hope. Even the old, moth-eaten curtains weigh in silence before the open window back and forth. The icy breeze strokes the battered body. Does it shudder again attracted new fears from the depths of his being. Gets the painful memories out. A pain that will never go away. A loneliness that will always remain. Emptiness that can be filled by anything. The cold gray tiles on which he sits, but not cold enough for the fire that burns in him.
He is afraid. Afraid to stand up and face up to the break of day. His life to live on, to face what had happened and what will happen. Everything reminds him of this one moment, as brief and yet an eternity. Every sound, every touch, everything can be combined to drive it. Light so unbearable in his eyes. A hostage the dark. Far, far away, he would be. Removed from that place of torment and pain. No false sense of security, free of memories, a sense of security, of which he knows that there will never for him. Mirage of surrender, go back to the beginning.
drill below his fingernails into his flesh, injured himself warm the blood that flows down his arms, but he did not feel it. According to his heart beats, but he will not listen. He feels only the pain, burning under his skin. Like a poison that spreads slowly eats him from within. Nothing can warm him, no cure for his wounds. And he knows that it is not over, but will not there be a new beginning. A thought of him can stand up, a fear that drives him and simultaneously knocks again. He can not escape. The voice inside him whispered. Too quiet to hear it. No questions, no answers and no relief. A frightened child, a lost soul. No will to life, not to die.
A car stopped outside on the street. Music can be heard up in the small, dreary room. The cheap plaster walls vibrate slightly below the bass. Let his body tremble again. A flow falls crashing to the ground. Splintered into a thousand Parts, like his life. The young man raises his head. Panic is to read in his eyes. Fear that everything repeats itself. The cries echo in his own head again. We've heard it, but it has not helped him. But he felt no anger, no hate, no anger. Too weak for such feelings, too afraid, too much desperation and too much pain for an individual. What remains of the young men gone? Where joy, pride, courage and boundless enthusiasm have gone down? The wit, the sparkle of his eyes, the strength, love. Nothing is left of them. Destroyed hopes, dreams made. No wounds that would heal the time. No memories forgotten may bring.
The music is silenced, the door opens with a faint creak. The smell of an expensive perfume men is in the air. A fragrance he knows, one he fears. It happens again, he knows it. He can not prevent it. He prays, and yet it remains unheard. Each step on the cold tiles, every breath of strangers, can shrug it together. The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with the sweet scent. Warm skin touched his. He pressed himself against the wall, instinctively and yet in vain. Does not the voice was rough. Close your eyes. Will not see, will not feel, wants to another place. New salty tears express his silent pain. Every touch burns like fire on the skin. Thousand hands seem to move along its body. Warm lips unite with his, taking him to breathe the air. Nausea rises up in him, but he can not escape. Can not escape, can not hope for salvation, do not cry anymore. Loving kisses are torture, gentle touches lashes. The poison is spreading from its effect. A new thrill runs through his body. His soul tries to escape, his body follows. No pain and more pain, but no way is open to more. Resistance ends in new pain. Iron grip of the stranger, be strong demand.
few hours before
A survey, only one survey. That's the only thing the young man says. Just the uncomfortable feeling in the stomach ignore. But how Displace something that has been fixed in the head? Something that will not just disappear? Images of the dead haunt Petty Officers in his head. The battered body of the young man will not disappear before his eyes. The words of Dr. Mallards echo in his ears again. The victim had suffered. He was tortured and abused. With a shake of the head, he gets out. Nevertheless, it is more than just a survey. He has every reason to have a bad feeling. He knows he has a certain resemblance to the murdered man. Brown hair, green eyes, almost the same size. Displaced, these similarities. Thanks to its Alber land he can only question the witness. The closing time is within the distance. The night has already sold the day. Frosty is the wind. Cold reaches for the TV man and beer have to wait. No recovery in sight. Unusually slow it goes along the road. Does not turn around. Wasted no sight. A run-down area, a cheap motel. Not more. Gray paint is peeling from the door, which he knocks. He does not have to wait. The door is opened to him. A shiver runs it through the skin. Are the cold gray eyes. Pale skin of the man who stands opposite him. The short black hair. A smile on his red lips. The young man shows his ID. "NCIS, Special Agent DiNozzo. My colleague had already spoken with them, I would still be a few questions for them. "Uncertainty is the voice. He does not know why, can not sell them. Want to go, but he can not. He must obey commands, perform his job. A short delay of the stranger, followed by a Please make an offer. The door opens. The young man enters. The sound of slamming door can shrug it together. A sweet smell fills the air. A men's perfume, not the cheapest. His brain works. Questions arise. But too late. A hard blow hits him unexpectedly. Darkness shall take possession of the man. Lifeless body falls to the ground. Not a word, any sound to his ear. The laughter will remain unheard.
awakening in a strange place. A pain in his head. A feeling of fear inside. Cold metal keeps his hands clasped. A icy breath goes on bare skin. Panic rises. Darkness obscured the view. He feels the thin sheet, which covers it. Feel the old mattress under his body. A desperate attempt to free himself. Thin metal, which cuts into his skin. Warm blood flows along the arms. Red spots are formed on the gray sheet. Unseen in the darkness. A voice comes through the darkness. Can his body shudder. Not the words, just the sound. Fear rises. Images appear. Answers are given, born fears. A creaking chair, steps. Little things that frighten him. The smell of the perfume is intense. The scent, mixed with cigarettes noise. The desperate Attempts to escape. Gently touching the touch his arm. Loving the words of strangers. Only a shadow, leaning over him. A strong hand is holding his head. Delicate lips unite with his own. A cold shudder runs through his body. Hands wander down his body. Touching every inch of his skin. Let him tremble. The thin sheet slides off his body. A cry left his lips. Hopes to help that will not come. Clinging to an unreal hope. A hard blow hits him unexpectedly. Punished for the distress signal. A pain for another, he takes for purchase. He learns quickly, a cry will be punished. leaves for a moment said the stranger off of him. Tugging at his bonds. opposes the tormentor. Cries for help. Readily accepts the blows for purchase. Eventually, his voice dying away. The blows border. A cool hand on his neck. Cold eyes sparkled. Silent gaze of the young man. Waiting for things to come. Unable only uttering a sound from him. Staring at the stranger.
Feather-light touch drag through the upper body. Two naked body in the dark. The hands move lower and lower. Shallow and too fast the Breath of the young man. The eyes closed, not wanting to see. Light kisses on his neck. Wandering deeper and deeper. Hands between his legs move. TLC, painfully. A hand wraps his penis. A hand pressed to his mouth. Stifled any sound. The hand disappears from the mouth. A demanding kiss, deep and hungry. Hot tears run down her face. Penetration, rough and unprepared. A stifled cry with another kiss. Deep and deeper. Waves of indescribable pain. His wrists are freed. No strength to flee. Tender and gentle touch. Hands to mouth. Bloody welts on his skin. Sobs choking his requests. Devour pleading words. Blood flows from the busted lip. Supplication remains unheard. Will not be heard. The stranger will only satisfy his desire. Bites with desire in the shoulder of his victim. A sign of his desire. Goes way too far. Satisfy his desire. Trembling body beneath him. Withdraws after an eternity. Go, leave the room. The sound of a motor starts. Loud music. Does the young man returned. Alone in his pain.
He can not believe what had happened. Collect the last remnant of strength. Stand up and drags himself into the bath under the shower. Then he makes that water, it's cold and clear. Sink all traces henceforth, are still memories. The pain remains. He gets out of the shower, leans against the cold, tiled wall. His legs give in. He slowly slides down the wall. Pulls his knees close to his body. Stares before her in the darkness to perceive anything. His body trembles. Severe pain shook him without having a real source. His mind refuses to accept the events as the truth. It must have been all a terrible dream. He talks a little. He's just tired, the current case, it simply takes too much. The similarity with the Petty Officer, Ducky's something specific to report. All this must have inspired his imagination. Now let him see things that had not happened. Not to him, such a thing would not happen to him. He is a special agent of the NCIS, he can defend themselves. He is strong. But he knows very well that he had been too weak. He did not fight, can be compounded to an unreal hope. Although he knows it, his spirit refuses vehemently against it. Tears running down his cheeks again, his pale, bruised cheeks. Still can not believe what you did to him. Beaten and raped. Raped, a word he knows from his work. Never has, or had he been brought themselves here.
His breathing is still much too fast. His heart races, yet he does not perceive the loud beating. His lips are silent words, the Eyes still directed straight ahead. His surroundings, he does not full. Can not settle down. Looks distorted shadows that are effective for him to frighten him. Design the take after a short time and again the same shape. That of his tormentor. He could flee, could run away, but lack the strength. The strength of his will, his hope is taken. He just can not get up, go. An invisible force keeps him in this place of memories. Is trapped in a nightmare from which he can not escape. can not find a way. The wind caresses his skin. Soft as a lover, can shake him again. Maybe the pain would subside. The cold dull his senses and to atrophy. But one can hope to rely on it? Another hope is in vain? A straw that break just us? In the bathroom coming down in a cheap motel. There is no hope, no faith. Hard, his head drops to his knees, still lay there. Ignore for a moment the images of even the recent past. Time passes. Silence in the room. Except for the curtains, nothing moves. Sounds penetrate from the outside in the room let him wince. Cold is the air that caresses his skin. It always reminds of the touches of his tormentor. Can his body tremble again. The young man is still trying to drive out, trying to forgotten. But he can not. Can not rest, can not find the strength to escape, not even to get up and something to wear. Remains in the same position is due to an inch. His things are probably somewhere in the motel room, as well as his service weapon. Yet he is unable to move.
presence
hands caress his flayed skin. Silent vows of love to him whispered in his ear. He tries to hide, to flee to another place. A beautiful place, where he is safe and secure, warm and friendly. But he does not succeed, they feel the deeper wandering hands. Tender touches that burn like fire on his skin. New pain that eat deep into his battered soul. The young man knows that it's only a matter of time. That will happen again.
A shot breaks the silence. Unexpectedly, a complete surprise but this sound is clear, unmistakable. A pained cry follows only a fraction of a second later. A body hits the ground. Warm blood on his face. But the eyes of the young man are closed. The hands are gone, the pain remained. Spoken words fade reach him. They are meaningless to the young man a life is in vain, lost soul, he believes. The night has gripped him with its icy fingers. Nothing can snatch the young man to handle. A familiar voice it is trying to achieve. Speaks words he hears not. Ignore the person who gently lays a soft blanket around his shoulders. Twitches slightly only together, in the barely perceptible touch. His senses are numb, his mind is too far away. No longer in the small, run-down bathroom. Trembling moves his legs closer to his body. A hand touched his shoulder makes him wince now be stronger together. Reassuring the aim of this gesture to convey the feeling of security. But this attempt suggests exactly in the opposite. The young man looks up, sees two gray eyes. Not that of his tormentor, but still calls the sight of the fresh memories out again. A hysterical giggle breaks out of his throat. He is confused, not knowing what reality or illusion. Can not distinguish between reality and its cruel memories. The giggling gives way to a sob. A stabbing pain in his arm which he was responsible. A liquid that is in his blood spread slowly. Brings warmth with it makes him tired. Its environment is blurred before his eyes. Unclear is the figure before him. His breath is slow, relaxed his body slowly. Still the hand resting on his shoulder. Hat makes no more about his eye lids, the fall. Darkness enveloped him, finally, finally leads him away from a world of pain.
the hospital
nightmares haunt the young man. He jumps from one to the other side. Sweat covered his body. Finally running high, a desperate cry left his lips. Twitches in the same breath together. But this time, following no punishment, no beatings. He stares into the darkness with wide-open eyes. The pale moonlight bathes the white room in dim light. Sparse is illuminated at any angle. Gradually awakens the young man returns from the dream back to reality. Cold creeps through the open window. Makes him cringe. He is no longer in the bathroom, do not approve of everything in the motel. The walls seem bare at first glance, but they are protective. He knows where he is, knows the neighborhood. Security? A single question he was raised. Should he try to remember it? He pushed back the blanket, stands trembling on only to fall instantly to the ground groaning. His abdominal pain unbearable, no comparison to the other wounds in his body. Instantly come back the memories. Wraps his arms around his body tormented by cramps. Clings to the set itself. Thoughts, feelings swirling wildly in his head, mixed with fragments of memories. Fear, pain, anger, misunderstanding and even hatred reflected in his soul. He will not believe what happened. They had abused him. He closes his eyes to it suddenly open again. He hears footsteps in the hall want, but see no one. No one spoke. He fights his way back up, runs on the cold metal of the bed up. Crawls under the covers with his last strength. Tormented, he closes his eyes.
The pain does not end. Once again, sneak into his nightmares too shallow sleep. Grasping for the young man let him relive experiences. Once again, he wakes up, startled. Trembling all over. Hot tears make their way down his cheeks. Burn like fire on the battered skin. Clings to the white bed sheets, his face buried in the pillow. Will be stifled Sobs and his tears are absorbed by the fabric. Hides under the covers. His spirit will be difficult. Slowly darkness again takes possession of him. His body requires rest, but he can not recover. He resists falling into a light, restless sleep. The dark clutches of nightmares fall back for him. Let him find the peace that he needs. Again and again he wakes up, his body racked with pain. At some point, just before sunrise, he is still in a deep sleep. Dreamless, erinnerungslos, cold and without hope.
A warm hand rested for a moment his forehead. Quiet voices swirled in through the brightly lit room. Uncertainty and fear were in the air. The hand disappears, the sound is of a ballpoint pen on paper to hear. But everything is right now far away. Only the soft closing of the door makes it easy to move together. Steps closer to him and a new fear is spreading in him. Reminders to follow the young man tries to tell himself that he is safe. It fails. A voice rises, puts a hand on his skin makes him frightened cringe. He does not want to relive it all. Just want peace. His arm is soaring. Without it, he really controlled, he suggests the hand the other away. Slides instinctively to the other side of the bed. Reist his eyes and looks into two frightened, ice-blue eyes. He knows the gray-haired, of a couple of steps retreated from your bed. Who now holds the arm, where he was hit. He trusts, the man standing there, but what is trust. The green eyes sparkle in the other cold. But it is just a mask that is beginning to crumble quickly. The fear and panic gives way to his.
In the eyes of the gray-haired man is a mirror of his soul. Sadness, fear, worry. A guilty conscience is reflected in it. Feelings of guilt have eaten into his soul. Addiction blamed himself for the Finds a way to help his friend. Questions revolve since last night through his head. Images appear before my eyes. A lonely scene in a dingy bathroom. Two young men, one completely naked. The Frenchman shakes off these images, try it at least. Eventually occurs again on the bed. Struggling for words. Do not know what to say, do not know if the other wants to hear it. Runs his hand through his short hair. His hands tremble slightly. "Tony, I ...", he begins. His voice sounds unusually rough. Feels more than just helpless, although he is not the victim. Had the young man alone can never let go. Know that the day before he was angry. Has let itself be influenced by his feelings. Has assumed that it would be just a simple sentence. Now he knows better. Know that the man was not an innocent witness. Now knows that he has sent his agent to destruction. But this insight came too late. Too late he had missed DiNozzo. And now he knows no further. The question is whether the rescue is not already too late. Sees the frightened young man in bed. Look into the frightened eyes. Noticed how his fingers cling to the blanket. "I'm sorry," he begins again. Violated its own rules, apologizes. Showing weakness is not. Nervously massaged his neck. Is still searching for the words that promise help. After a hope and not empty promises. But no other word finds its way across his lips.
The young man on the bed, pulls the blanket a little higher. He speaks not a word. He does not know what to do, what to make of the admission of guilt. Is no longer the quick-witted man he was. Can not turn his eyes from the gray-haired. Mesmerized by the view. Still trembling. The older man breaks the silence again. Try to get through to the young man. Speaks calmly and quietly, not more than a whisper. "Tony, I did not know ... I had never left there alone sent, if I had suspected something. ... I would not own up hinschicken allowed. ... I'm sorry, "he finished. Will that others know that he has made a mistake. Know that there is no excuse. It sparkled in the treacherous ice-blue eyes. His hands tremble, he feels helpless. But how must feel the other? Shown is the face of the young man. The night has left its mark. Dark circles are silent witnesses of the past hours. His eyes are red from the tears shed. Unnaturally pale face. Does sickly, fragile, at the end. His trembling fingers cling still in the soft fabric. The breath much too fast, but quieter than even a few minutes. The presence of the gray-haired quiet him, even if you do not look at him.
circle of thought again and again to the same point. The question is still what he can do. Finding no answer as before. Again approaches the young man Will make a last attempt. Looking the other firmly. Will make him afraid, will take the fear. Sits down carefully on the edge of the bed. Ignores the anxious recedes. Finally stretched out his hand. Touches the quavering fingers of the other. As mentioned in shock but the other will move his hand away. Can not stand Brührungen. Wishes so be very understood. Fear the consolation. Seeks refuge in solitude.
The Frenchman agrees. Wounds need time to heal. Do not know if the time can close this injury. Lets her head sink. Followed by a barely perceptible nod. Has broken, hurt, helpless. Stand up slowly. Fight with yourself Do not know what is right. Do not know whether to stay or go. Chooses to walk. Hopes that others can rest. Pray that he finds strength. Wishes that he forgives him. Leaves the room. His presence is not desired. Gives him the time he needs. A further Image has burned in his head. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.
Two weeks later
The physical wounds have almost healed. Mental pain pass, however not so easy. He is at his home, alone, as he wanted. Every day that visit. Speaks again with his colleagues. But only a few words. Is closed. Try to forget, to repress. But at night the memories. Crying. Curls up on the couch. Seeks protection under the soft blanket. But even there, get him one of the nightmares. Let him not really find peace. Sleepless nights make him a shadow of its former self. There is often a question. Will end it all. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness. It's just a small step. If the weapon already had in hand. set at the temple. But he can not pull the trigger. Sets the gun again and again. Think of other people. Knows in his heart that he is not alone. Has friends. Is needed. Can they not do to lose it to be done. Especially a person needs it. Feel when you look their concern. The gray eyes resting on him. The Attempt to make him smile. Attempts that failed miserably. He is not to laugh, to smile, at ease. Often lost in thought. Repress his pain. Try to hate despise, and be angry at someone. Can not. Not find a real culprit. No person to whom he can give his pain. Remembers the words of the gray-haired. Attempts to find a fault with him, but he is not able to. Does the ice-blue eyes on. The concern, guilt feelings in it. White finally better. Know that this also has no debt. Does suffer his superiors. Provides that it is even colder than usual. Silent, thoughtful and reserved.
He sits for hours in his apartment. Motionless and alone. Suffers alone. Knows that it can not continue. Can not jump over his shadow. Can not even put an end to the whole. Frightened suddenly. The ringing on the door pulls him from his thoughts. Winces and stays for a moment. His heartbeat quickened. Every muscle is tense. Expected steps, hands touching him. But nothing happens. No one enters the apartment. No one drives him into a corner. It costs a lot to overcome to get up. Less than the beginning, too much as it should. Slowly, his steps. Opens the door with a slightly trembling hand. Looking back into the blue eyes. Sadness in it. Feelings of guilt, sorrow. With a gesture, he invites the visitor in.. Close the door again. Follow the gray-haired man into the living room. Loses nothing.
"Tony, I must speak with you," comes from the lips of the elders. Superfluous phrases. He stops observed closely. The young man sits down on the dark sofa. Reaches for one of the pillows. Does it protectively in front of his body. As a shield. Knows that the Other is no danger. Nevertheless, he clutched in the soft fabric. His attitude is tense. Can not really relax. A silence between them. Silence, keiner zu brechen wagt. Minuten vergehen. Nichts vermag die Ruhe zu durchdringen. Erst ein Auto, das auf der Straße hält, lässt beide aufhorchen. Laute Musik dringt durch das geöffnete Fenster. Jagt den jungen Mann eine Gänsehaut über den Rücken. Die Musik verstummt. Das zuschlagen der Tür ist zu hören. Panik breitet sich in dem Braunhaarigen aus. Angst ist in seinen Augen zu lesen. Die Finger krallen sich tiefer in das Kissen. Seine Blicke wandern zur Haustür. Erwartet das Schlimmste. „Er ist tot Tony“, sagt der Ältere sanft. Beobachtet weiterhin aufmerksam. Macht sich große Sorgen. Seine Worten sollen beruhigen. Genau das Gegenteil tritt ein.
Der Jüngere twitches as under a whip together. He can not handle the experience. Especially in the vicinity of the gray-haired not. He himself does not know why. Looks at him with frightened eyes. Takes a moment for themselves to collect. His thoughts in order. The spoken word processing. "I know." The voice is a whisper. Anxious, as a child. Tremble, like his whole body. He feels uncomfortable in his skin. Pressed the pillow tighter. The knuckles turn white. A pain is spreading from his wrists. They still are white bandage. One of the few injuries that are still visible. The reminders of the torture. But he needs this memory is not. Will never forget. Will it ever be finished. Day and night he has thought about. Makes it still. In the end, he only comes to a conclusion. Where a decision taken. Will start a different life. Can no longer work as a team. No weapon with. No more questioning suspects. Everything reminds him of the experience. Everything scares him. Will it only peace. Forgotten. He wants to disappear. He wants to open his mouth. His decision to report his friend, but he takes a step toward him. Approaches him. Finally, only one remains a bit in front of him. Looks at him with his ice-blue eyes. They reflect concern. Stretched his hand cautiously after him from. Comes to rest on his shoulder. The young man shrugs this time together slightly. If the hand does not panic away. Not like two weeks ago. He sees the gray-haired expectantly.
"Tony, it can not go on like this," begins this. Knows not what to say. But he knows that his friend has finally come to rest. Complete with the event must. It can not go on forever, he said. His own words echo in his head again. Still looking at the debt itself. Would do anything to turn back time. But this is not possible. Would even accept that others hate him yell, would. But no reaction follows the young man hides just scared behind the cushion. Pressed into the soft cushions of the sofa. Fear is his constant companion. The Frenchman can not stand how he suffers. This vision puts him a stab in the heart. He misses his friend. The jokes, the jokes, the silly sayings. So he starts over. Hopes that he finds the right words. "I'm sorry Tony. It was a mistake, you send off alone. You can hate me, me for everything ..." He also does not come. The other man shook his head. Confused him. But his hand remains on the shoulder of the young man. Gives him something of his power.
His voice staggers. Shaky and anxious, silent no more than a whisper. could "I tried to give you the guilt. ... I tried to hate you for it ... I wanted to be mad at you ... But I can not. ... Just as Ziva be to blame, they him to be harmless. ... I believed it would eventually stop. But that does not. " He closes his eyes. A few words so very much the power costs. Partially incoherent and understandable. Tears burning in his eyes. He desperately clings to the pillow. Want to run away, but moving an inch. Not more than a picture of misery he is. Can not before and not back. Is afraid of being alone, fear the proximity of others. Will comfort, no compassion. Is too weak to admit this to himself. Too scared to say it. It hurts the gray-haired friend of his to think so. Without hope, full of pain, despair. His friend may hate him, but he can. He hates himself for it. For its decision. For his mistake. For his rash actions. For the moment of anger. His hand is still on the shoulder of the other. Feel the trembling of the body. Can feel the pain. He finally overcomes the last step. The final distance between them. Think no further. Displaces all possible consequences. Is it possible to find the young man slide on the couch. Closes it firmly in his arms. Felt the tremor, rapid breathing too. But only pushes it more firmly. Tears running freely across the pale cheeks of the young man. Drops on the white shirt of the elderly. Sob is the only thing breaking the silence. The Frenchman holds his friend. Sweeps him reassuringly on the back. Is there for him. Is it the feeling of not being alone. Can feel how liberating it is for others. Is happy that he has dared to take the last step. Knows that his friend would never have been able to. And waiting patiently for the young man calmed down.
mute the two men sit side by side. Still the gray-haired the other is holding in his arms. Give him a sense of security. Reassured him. The tears have long since dried. His breathing is now quiet. The tremor is almost gone. Fear and insecurity are still there. The images of the past does not disappear. But slowly they begin to fade. A feeling of confidence came back. The hope seems unreal to be true. A touch can solve the older control. Is the young man again. Will not break the hard-spun ribbon. Is far too thin. Still smiles easily. Does the other firmly. Knows that he has now taken the hardest hurdle. Pray that now everything is better. That his friend can forgive. In particular, he proposes to himself, too, that he forgives the debt was further studied with him.
The young man raises his head. Looks at the gray-haired. Recalls his own words. Did they not say. Now he is happy. He had not thought about it. Just did not want to make his boss, his boss, his friend, is so helpless. Colder than usual, so sad. Once before the Frenchman had been. Full of sadness, helplessness, pain, guilt. When Kate was killed. Nothing had been able to bring her back. But he could return. He knows that he had lost himself. He wanted to change this. He wanted to return from the dark, but lacked the power to him. With a small gesture of hope, however, was back. He senses that something changes in him. Carefully raises his head. Looks into the blue eyes. Anxious, insecure, but start with a confidence. Still smiles the Frenchman. His eyes sparkled treacherous. He clearly felt the change. Two weeks had passed and he had fought. If he sees two emerald green eyes. A glimmer of lies who had disappeared since that night. "Tony," he begins. Breaks the silence again, which is in the room. Does the young man seriously. His voice is firm and has the usual tone. Tolerates no opposition. His gaze is warm and friendly. "You're not alone, we are all here for you. I'm here for you if you need me. You have nothing to say, I know you need me. I will move here for a while until I know that you feel better. " Unusually, his words, but sincere.
blinked in disbelief, the young man on the other. Can not believe what this says there. Knows that a conflict is meaningless. Knows him long enough. Is not sure what to make of it. One side of him wants to be alone, the other wants the opposite. Close your eyes to think. His hands still holding the pillow, but his grip is already not so tense. Opens only after a few minutes his eyes again. The Frenchman is still sitting next to him. The same warm smile is on his lips. Only confirms the spoken words. Gives more hope and confidence, as words can ever. The Frenchman does not expect any answer, no gesture, no gratitude, and that is exactly what appreciate the young man. He has made a decision. So different than a few hours. Quite He smiled slightly, hardly perceptible, and shakily, but it's there. Honestly meant and characters enough to others. The young man would not be alone, do not want to wake up more and be afraid. He wants to live again, have dreams and new hopes. He believed that he would be alone, that he could never trust again, and the happier he is now that he was mistaken. "I have a guest room," he says finally, softly. No yes and no, no, but answer enough. Surprised, he sees a glint in the eyes of the gray-haired. Can not believe what he sees. Believe tears seen.
is still to be Face pale. Dark shadows surround his eyes red, but the green in it now shines a little. Just a little bit, but it's a start. He recognizes that sometimes it pays to cling even to an unreal hope. This, after all is not as impossible as it seems at first. That life is never fair, but there are things that make it worth living. Among other friends who are there for you when you need them. And he knows that also belong to life and forgiveness to a friend. And that means that even forgive yourself and trust in themselves. Some things happen without reason, without intention is to find someone to blame and hopeless. Slowly, very slowly, normality in his life will return. It will take, but eventually he will laugh again.
end
