fighting for nothing ,,

[tyler marie claxton,]

tyler claxton

when i was younger,
i wish that i would've known better.
_______________________________

It's funny how utterly grim everything can seem at the strangest of moments. How, in a room filled with commotion and people, you can hear not a single sound; it's just overwhelmingly puzzling. Yet for some reason, when you're inside this silent-movie like scene, you don't even question it. It's like you're not even supposed to hear anything. Atleast, that's how it was for Tyler.

All around her people buzzed, the younger children screamed, there was the quite hum of elder men talking, the clicking of guns, yet nothing could be heard. Sort of like there was some sort of sound barrier surrounding her, and she was suddenly immune to all of the chaos. The more she thought about it, the stranger it began to seem, and standing here she was almost waiting for the moment when the silence would dissipate, leaving Tyler Claxton in a crowd of noise.

That was when, as if on que, the battery on her music player stopped. Just as she'd thought, the echoing fortress came crashing onto her like a wave. Brown eyes surveyed her area around her, falling on nothing in particular as she sighed and stuffed her mp3 player into the pocket of her dark skinnies jeans. 'Stupid, fucking music.' She gritted her teeth in annoyance. It was painful trying to find an outlet to charge the damn thing, and music was one of the only things that at least kept her somewhat busy.

One of them. Other being her little diary. Pathetic, and childish, but she kept a diary. Padlocked, as if she was still scared that her younger brother might read it and share at the dinner table that she'd just love to bend Travis Hartkey in fifth period biology over. 'What does bend over mean anyway?' 'WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN MY ROOM?' 'Ty, don't use that kind of language around your brother.' Not that she'd ever be in that kind of a situation again. She'd never sit at home, do her homework at the dinner table as her mother slaved away in the kitchen and her little brother zoomed around the table with a towel tied to his back. 'Pshhhh, PSSSHHH, Super Charlie to the rescue!'

Heaving a sigh, Tyler pushed the key in and twisted, turning to an empty page to continue her story.

People say there's a moral at the end of every story, and for the most part, that's true. All of the opposing forces of good and bad in this world are there for a reason. There is no bad without good, and no right without wrong.. There's no evil without moral. And without moral, life itself would cease to be meaningful. The moral of the story is what makes it virtual; what adds the element of reality. It's funny, though, that in some stories the moral isn't of good nature as most believe them to be. You never hear of a moral dealing with deception or unfaithfulness; it's always the good lessons learned, and hardly ever the bad.

But the one thing Tyler couldn't figure out.. couldn't seem to grasp, was how up until now, she'd acted completely on impulse, never having anything but an arbitrary reason to go by. It hadn't bothered her really, but in a sense, something felt empty. And as she grew older, he couldn't help but receiving the impression that she was being cheated out of something. Out of what, exactly, she knew not, yet couldn't find it in her heart to believe that this was all life had in mind for her.

But sitting there right now, looking at the blank page in front of her with an almost dead pen in her hand, Tyler couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe her's would be a story without a moral.

tbc;; anyone

[mik-e IMMA fish-E =O]

I was walking through the corridors playing songs on my guitar that I had written in my head, songs that people knew songs that people didn’t. I continued on my way through the halls stopping and looking around, singing my heart out waiting for some sort of response. I had always lived for music, and it seemed to be a sort of outlet for me. Since all I had of my past was my guitar, I decided to try and keep it as a part of my future although the future didn’t seem very bright for anybody right now. Everybody around me seemed to be worried about survival. They didn’t care for anybody else but themselves. The only thing that I had been worried about was wondering if I would die happy or not.

Think about it: A long tiresome night, you and a friend go for a walk and know for a fact that there is a 50/50 chance at survival. You walk for nearly half an hour, and then screaming fills the air. You’re circled by a dozen of the infected men and women that had been stalking you for the last 15-20 minutes. On impulse, one of you runs back to safety, but usually one of them stays to ensure the safety of his or her friend. I wanted to be that guy, who stayed behind to make sure his friend survived.

I continued through the fortress, still playing my guitar in hope for a response from somebody, anybody.

“I’m a real big fan of yours. But I’m quite a joke to you. But girl it wasn’t a joke when you kissed me in your room, and replied I love you too.”

Still, no response I continued with the song in hope of a response from somebody. If anybody in this ‘haven’ for human kind had the same love of music as I did, they would surely say something. One cannot resist the temptation to state their opinion on a certain genre of music. Over the last week of my presence in this building, I have heard only but one guitar, and one singing voice. And both were mine.

“I’m a little bit insecure from all of this mistreatment, but see I’m working it out, but working it out is so damn hard when you’re alone.” I sang my heart out to this strange new world.

Still nothing, I turned my head to see the wandering brown eyes of a girl, nearly six paces away sitting on the floor, she pulled out a diary and as curious as I already was about this girl I continued playing my song to the world, I took two steps towards her, and began to sing again

“Chada dadada dada dadada. And I am running out, of words to say to you. Wondering why I’m wasting my time. Thinking back and won-dring why I’m such a fool, for loving you.” I looked directly at this girls wandering brown eyes.

Once again, I took two paces towards the girl sitting on the floor, the music continued, but I stopped singing.

“What are you writing?” I asked, in hope for a response.

The music ceased as I kneeled down and introduced myself to the girl.

“I’m Christofer Drew, nice to meet you.”

I smiled.

TBC: Tyler Claxton. AKA: Sarah

[tyler marie claxton,]

tyler claxton

better than to let romance,
last for more than a shoeshine.
_______________________________

Tyler was sure she could hear the strumming of a guitar somewhere in the background but she tuned it out. Something she was good at. She didn't really need that mp3 player, she could work as her own set of headphones, fading out any noise around her. She played with the pen, flicking it back and forth between her thumb and index finger.

We've all got our own insecurities, but for Tyler Marie Claxton, it was always the fact that she 'could have done better.' So she strived, and strived for the things she wanted to accomplished, no matter what the goal was. While she sometimes achieved them, and others she didn't, she persisted and eventually gained a reputation as that kid who knew where she was headed. A reputation as a girl who had goals set, and knew how to help herself meet them, and someone who was going to do something with their life.

Not that you'd ever know that now, for somewhere a long the course of growing up she'd changed. Maybe for better, maybe for worse, but in that change she'd lost a sense of herself. A lot of people say it was her father leaving that did it to her, for after that experience there wasn't a day when she acted like the girl they'd once known. Bad experiences cripple you same as salt on a slug. So she gave up. And that was without a doubt probably the worst decision she'd ever made. Don't call hier a quitter, for no one really knows what went on in her head, but it's not hard to see what's behind her mask. Ty's just afraid.

But Tyler himself would be the last to ever admit it. After all, she's built up her own reputation of herself in his own head, and the only reason she keeps at this is for herself psychologically. You see, this way, she doesn't have to face his problems. She gets consumed in the moment, and her feelings often compel her into doing life-threatening tasks without a second thought. Yet somehow she finds the courage to go through with them inside of herself, and everything's better. She doesn't have to worry about life or death, they all blend together in the end.

Just as her thoughts ended and she was ready for pen to meet paper, the strumming got louder. 'Goddamnit, can no one shut up around here?' There was the quite hum of a voice, but Tyler hadn't bothered actually listening in. If she had, it was a voice she would've liked listening to. But right then wasn't one of those moments were she felt like listening. Until someone was hovering over her.

Ty gritted her teeth, her hand clenching into a fist around the pen. She had no choice but to listen now as the voice directed a question towards her.

“What are you writing?”

She looked up, trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "I was going to write until you interrupted." She showed him the ever persistent blank page in front of her.

“I’m Christofer Drew, nice to meet you.”

Nice. Nice? What a brat. And that smile, god. Maybe this kid didn't have friends or something. Either way, Tyler wasn't in her friendly mood. "Your point?"

tbc;; mike

[mik-e IMMA fish-E =O]

“My point?”

A million ideas ran through my head, I apparently needed a point to talk to the people in this “safe haven” for humans. I was trying to figure out where this girls head was. Spreading joy was my point. Everybody deserves to smile every once in a while, I guess right now wasn’t the time for her. But I was persistent. Most people when confronted with a situation such as this would back away immediately; I wasn’t one of those people. I was one of the very few people who were trying to see a brighter side of things. Yet, when I tried to strike up conversation… Treated like shit? I think not.

I wanted to make at least one person smile today, even if it wasn’t genuine. I just wanted one small smile. Even if it meant that I had to talk to every single person in the room. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to be part of that silver lining, and light up at least one person’s day, each day. As long as I was alive, I would be stuck in this little world, where everybody was supposed to be happy.

I was hiding in that little world; the horrifying reality that was that was beginning to over power my imagination. My little world, wasn’t real. All of these walls; barriers that I had built around myself were coming down, and I was going to have to face this horrible reality by myself.

“Well, my point was to try and get a smile on that lid of yours. You seem a bit – Actually, everybody here seems to be down in the dumps and I can see why. I’m even pretty low myself. It’s just, I don’t know. I like to play the guitar, and I like to sing, it’s a good outlet—you should try it sometime. I mean like, I’m not sure… I just want to make the day a little bit brighter in this hell hole most will end up calling home in a few days.”

I sat back, thinking of my little sister. And how someday; she would have grown up and been a successful lawyer, doctor, a teacher, anything she wanted. I always told her to consider her possibilities. But that wouldn’t happen now. I wanted to know if she was happy when she died, if she had lived a good life up until that point. But that is something I’ll never know. I could have suffered just as my family did; they were going for a walk when they were attacked. It was on the first night after Bio-Lence was used and everything in the city had calmed down. They asked me if I wanted to go, but I refused because I was working on a song. They understood, but I would give anything—absolutely anything to see them once again. I wanted to hear my little sisters’ voice by my head telling me to wake up because breakfast was ready.

I would give anything—absolutely anything to have my old life back. But I was completely content with where I was now. I had the chance to brighten up somebody’s day. Anybody in this ‘fortress’ could be a victim of my music. It was something that I’ve done, and something that I’ll always do, I’ll play music for anybody.

“You know, everybody has their story right… I’m just the kind of person who doesn’t want to think about it. Just—I’m not entirely sure.”

I paused, and took off my headband, quickly brushing my hair out of my face before putting it back on.

“Would you like me to play you a song? I’ve written a few, I could play one of those if you like. I noticed you putting away your mp3 player and thought why not.”

I smiled once again, in hopes of a more positive reaction, however; I was almost sure that I wouldn’t get one.

TBC: Sarah

[tyler marie claxton,]

tyler claxton

now that i'm older,
i've taken all them words of my mother
_______________________________

Ever since she was a girl, even pre-divorce, Tyler has always been one of those people who sincerely believed in the power of tragic fate. The way some people are just meant to be, and the way that sometimes things don't work out as planned--but in the end, it's better than you could have hoped. She doesn't believe that issues and problems should be delegated to specific people, but rather that it's because of some external, impersonal force that for the most part, can't be controlled. You know what I mean, the 'everything happens for a reason' sort of outlook.

That's kind of what she lived by. Tyler let's life take her by the hand and lead him wherever it pleases, usually without any objection. Everything, was acted on impulse, from the big decisions, to the little ones.

Life:I feel like a mocha frappacenio today.
Tyler: Mocha frap, please.

Come to think of it, the situation at hand is another example of her somewhat different take on things. At the present, she's not thinking of things to say or what to do, no matter how much she dislikes this guy. Ty's just being himself and seeing where it takes them, and yet for some reason she has that gut feeling it just may work out. Then again, ever since that night a few years ago her judgment hasn't exactly been right on key.

“Well, my point was to try and get a smile on that lid of yours. You seem a bit – Actually, everybody here seems to be down in the dumps and I can see why. I’m even pretty low myself. It’s just, I don’t know. I like to play the guitar, and I like to sing, it’s a good outlet—you should try it sometime. I mean like, I’m not sure… I just want to make the day a little bit brighter in this hell hole most will end up calling home in a few days.”

She listened, rather bored by his long speech, her eyes wandering away from his handsome face to the blank page. The page that needed to be filled up with words. But she wasn't going to write in front of him, not because she found it rude. She didn't want him to see what she wrote, and he looked like the kind that would peek at what she wrote.

And then he sat back, and Tyler gave out a long, exasperated sigh. He was here to stay, and from the sound of it, he wasn't planning on leaving until he got that smile from her. She should've just faked one, but she didn't want to give this guy what he wanted. If he was going to be annoying, she could do the same right back.

“You know, everybody has their story right… I’m just the kind of person who doesn’t want to think about it. Just—I’m not entirely sure.”

Those words caught her off guard, and she blinked, looking as if someone has just hit her. Was it the diary that inspired him to say that? Or was he just thinking like her? Tyler felt that sense of gathering; some strength of forces. That feeling you get when someone appears beside you to pick up the end of a heavy thing.

“Would you like me to play you a song? I’ve written a few, I could play one of those if you like. I noticed you putting away your mp3 player and thought why not.”

On impulse, without thinking, she opened her mouth, "Sure."

tbc;; mike

[mik-e IMMA fish-E =O]

As my smile dragged on for a minute I didn’t know what to expect. The brown eyed girl sitting before me, diary in lap that seemed ever so encased in her own little world. Too many people were closing themselves in, and not trying to see the brighter side of life, even though many were sceptical of there even being a brighter side at this dark time. I was one of the very, very few people who had tried to see a brighter side to life. I couldn’t even see it, but because of the world that I had created in my head over the last week, anything was possible. And Anybody could be happy at the darkest of times, just like today, and as long as this lasts.

“Sure.” I grinned quickly before grabbing my guitar again, I sat cross legged on the floor, guitar in hand and began to play, and for the first time in a week I had felt like I belonged where I was at that very moment in time.

And that’s when the music began to pour out of my guitar, the movement of my fingers across the fret board changed the sound in short intervals. Then suddenly, the music began to flow from my lips, full of emotion I began to play my song.
“If it’s not those cowboy boots in the summer, oh my god I pray for another. Chance to drive down back highways ‘til I stumble upon your beautiful face, your presence isn’t what kills me, it’s that artistic gleam that’s taking over my scenery. Dream, by dream.”

I continued playing, but my mind slipped off to another place. I continued to play my guitar and continue singing the song but I couldn’t help but think about the time that I had spent writing this song. Precious time that could have been spent with my family, time that I could have spent with my little sister, even if I had just performed more than two or three songs for them in my lifetime. I wouldn’t forgive myself for what I had done, but I would continue to play until playing wasn’t an option anymore.

“You might think I’m incapable of loving a soul like yours. You might think I’m a fool for you.”

I smiled. Still playing I looked down at the neck of my guitar and started shaking my head. I had a cheesy grin running across my face, as if it were a raindrop running across the windshield of a moving car.

“Girl you’ve got style, that’s what I love about you. The way that you sit back and watch this grow. You got dreams, and therefore I believe in you. All the small town people with their big remarks, they ain’t got jack to say about my movie star. She’s got style”

Once again I smiled, and continued playing.

“badada dada dada da dadada, da dada whooooooo. Whoahhh. She’s got style. badada dada dada da dadada, da dada whooooooo. Whoahhh”

I smiled again, still playing. The music paused and I brought it all back to life by playing three higher notes. 1,2,3 “if it’s not the.” I started to play harder again, full chords in progressions that I loved, that I had written.
“fact that I’m a wee bit younger, or the truth that I’m so naïve. My heart keeps leaping back to you, like a dog tied to a tree. I know it sounds crazy, it’s ridiculous to me, but without you by my side girl”

The guitar paused, and so did I. Once again I had a cheesy grin as I looked up and peered into the girls wandering brown eyes. Then again, the music picked up.

“You might think I’m incapable, of loving a soul like yours. You might think I’m a fool—for you.”

The guitar picked up speed again, my hands moved quicker, one strumming faster, the other changing chords as I sang to the girl sitting before me.

“Cause girl you got style, and that’s what I love about you. The way that you sit back, oh how you sit back, and watch this grow. You got dreams, and therefore I believe in you. All the small town people with their big remarks, they ain’t got jack to say about my movie star.”

And again, I flashed another smile in her direction, in hope of some reaction. I then picked back up where I left off and finished the song with the ending verse.

“What are the odds of finding someone just like you? Tell my why I never wanted to go back home. I’m still falling for you today.”

The brief ending left me surprised and out of breath. I smiled once more and looked ahead of me and peered into her brown eyes. I didn’t even know her name, but I wouldn’t forget her face.

TBC: Sarah/

[/size]

[tyler marie claxton,]

tyler claxton

saying it couldn't be worse, could
be born with that disease instead of catching it first.
_______________________________

As Tyler listened to the boy's song, she couldn't help but feel a bit of cowardice showing through. Maybe it was because she was starting to like the guy, then again, she got this gut feeling all of the time. But never once in her memory had he ever chosen to listen to it; it was much more rebellious to defy it in every way. Still, she was secretly a bit cautious about everything she did. Tyler Marie would never dream of letting that show, and that's why she often acted so impulsively. It made it easier to go through with things if you hardly had enough time to think them over, you know?

That's why she rushed into things without thinking about what will happen in the future--her weakness of impulsiveness puts herself and others into difficult situations, mainly because she is too fickle and changes her mind about what she likes and doesn't like far too often. But at this point, Tyler didn't feel like this was something she'd regret. Shee actually thought that the strange feeling in her stomach might, well, be a good one. Sort of like the epiphany she experienced earlier. Then again, don't ever listen to Ty's instincts. They're designed for failure.

This was ten times better than her mp3 player. Too bad she couldn't pack him up and shove him in her pocket for whenever she needed a song. She shifted positions, sitting on her knees she shoved the diary into an old worn black messenger bag. His voice continued drifiting around her as she sat back, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

“What are the odds of finding someone just like you? Tell my why I never wanted to go back home. I’m still falling for you today.”

He smiled, and she eventually decided to let one slide onto her own lips. "That, that was amazing." Her eyes wandered from the guitar and back up to him, "I'm Tyler by the way."

tbc;; mike

[mik-e IMMA fish-E =O]

A smile, everything that I had wanted to come across the face of this girl had finally appeared. I peered into her eyes as the ringing guitar strings had slowed down and finally stopped. “That, that was amazing.” I smiled once more, not knowing how to react. I had finally put a smile on somebody’s face and they gave me a compliment; Little Old Christofer Drew a name of the past, and surely not a name of the future. “I’m Tyler by the way.” I smiled and extended my arm forward.

“Hello Tyler, it’s nice to meet you.” I chuckled a bit before putting my guitar down on the floor beside me. I un crossed my legs and stretched one out in front of me, the other pulled up to my chest. I smiled and looked over at Tyler, the girl that I had just met minutes before. Maybe it was an instant thing, maybe not. But I knew that I wouldn’t let this girl go, as long as I was here I would make sure she was as happy as one could be in this ‘wonderful’ place.

“Well Tyler, it seems that I finally got a smile on that pretty face of yours.” I smiled once again, not knowing what to say. I brushed my bangs out of my face and rubbed my chin for a second, trying to hide the confused expression that was on my face. I had just sung a song that I had written to this girl – Tyler and she had hardly said anything. I wouldn’t just let her sit and look at me. I wanted conversation, it had been nearly two days since the last time I had conversed with anybody, and the last time was over a slice of bread.

“Well… Are you going to say anything? I asked, looking over at Tyler sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. She had her arms wrapped around her legs and looked ever so innocent.

“Well?”

TBC: Sarah

[tyler marie claxton,]

tyler claxton

let's go back to the first time that i met you, you shoved me
with your hands stretched and me crying, screaming "mercy, mercy."
_______________________________

If you've ever known someone who was completely misunderstood, you probably knew Tyler. After the incident all of those years ago, when she went to live with her estranged mother, she didn't speak. It could have been a week, maybe six months--it'd become sort of a blur to her now --but for however long it was, she just had nothing to say. No matter how hard anyone tried, in Ty's eyes.. things were better in that room. Some kids joked that her mother locked her in there because she lost her mind, but in reality..she didn't want to come out. Life's made a lot easier when you don't have to worry about everyone else.

Everyone made up things about what she did in that room, but in reality.. she just read. And read, and read. There wasn't a page left in the world that she hadn't laid eyes on. Tyler learned more in those weeks spent reading than she had in her entire life. She learned more lessons and more these than she would ever encounter in her later days. And when she was ready to come out, she was no different than before, yet returning to school was heartbreak itself. She still remembered that day, looking so longingly at her former alliances who still blamed her after all of that time. Seeing their faces--so different yet so very much the same as before--as she walked past.

“Hello Tyler, it’s nice to meet you.”

Tyler wasn't sure if he was serious about this nice to meet you thing. How could it be nice to meet someone in these circumstances? It was just something people said, same as how a doctor asked his patient how he was feeling after he nearly lost his life to a stab wound. Curtesy? Curtesy sucked.

“Well Tyler, it seems that I finally got a smile on that pretty face of yours.”

And that sent heat rushing up to her face. It didn't matter who complimented her, as soon as she got one, Tyler would become incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe because she truly was a shy person. I guess you could blame her insecurity on her childhood, although her mother will say that she’se always just been a watchful person by nature, doing her own anthropological study of the human race, like Jane Goodall and The Chimpanzees of Gombe. She is probably right that personality plays a part. Tyler sometimes felt less hardy and cut out for the world than the people around her, too sensitive, the kind of person whose heart goes out to inanimate objects--the sock without a partner, a field of snow interrupted by footprints, the lone berry on a branch. Realizing she had probably just created an awkward silence, Tyler nodded, not quite sure why she had. "Erm, thanks."


“Well… Are you going to say anything?"

Ohh, right, conversation. Tyler blinked a few times, growing more uncomfortable. "What do you want me to say?"

tbc;; mike

[mik-e IMMA fish-E =O]

OOC: I'll reply to this tomorrow.. Sorry for not replying!!!!!!!!!!!!!