ACK ACK ACK *dodges knifes and various other objects* I apologize for this! I know I have two other stories to work on, but I, being the horror lover that I am, just HAD to make something on Halloween! This is also a make-up story for the long wait for the other two^^'
Inspired by the movie "The Ring", when *to avoid spoiling, I shall not use very desciptive words* that was dumped down a this by a person. Those who have watched it should know what I'm talking about.
can anyone tell what genre i should put this in? im thinking about horror, but im not 110% sure...
AU ALERT! AU ALERT!
Enjoy please!
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Bleach sometimes (and bacon. I ALWAYS wish I have some bacon:3) but I don't.
He didn't know what he did wrong. He never disobeyed her, never questioned her. He did everything to try to please her. But nothing worked. She still hurt him.
Toshiro Hitsugaya was not a well liked child. The kids of the village did not want to befriend him, though due to his white hair and turquoise eyes, or they just didn't like him, he did not know, and the only family his known -his mother- hated him with a passion. She tried everything in her power to try and make him miserable. She abused him both emotionally and physically.
Yes, Michiko Hitsugaya abused her only child to the best of her ability. But Toshiro never stopped loving her. He loved his mother very dearly. She was all he had. If anyone ever said something bad about her he stood up for her, never liking how the people talked about her.
Toshiro always thought that, deep down, his mother loved him, just had a different way of showing it, or only punished him for something he did wrong. He thought that it was like a test. A test of trust, to see if he really loved her, would go through any kind of pain and still stay by her side. He thought that, with every blow she gave him, was like a sign of her motherly love. But, foolish as these thoughts were, no one could blame him. He was only at the age of six, going through all of this his whole life.
He thought she did what she did to him because of love. But he was wrong.
Michiko hated her son. He was a waste of space, a waste of money, just useless in her eyes. In her eyes, she had been taking care of an ungrateful brat for six years too many. She wanted him out of her life, dead, gone. She had been planning his riddance the moment she had to take him to her house, the one she worked her whole life for, the one he should not be in anymore.
She had been planning his death for a long time, and, on December twentieth, on Toshiro's seventh day of birth she had.
Seven days prior to this day, she had starved him, refused to give him water and, the day before that his birthday, bashed his head with a metal rod, enough to make him bleed, but not kill him. She then, on the morning Toshiro turned seven, she picked him up and walked over to where a deep well rested. She slid the lid of it off and then ungracefully dropped the young boy in there.
It being winter, only wearing a white shirt and jeans, and being extremely weak from lack of food and water and a serious head injury, Toshiro was not prepared to be where he was now. Michiko looked into the well, her black hair falling to the sides of her face, and watched as her only child's head broke the surface of the water and, with what little strength he had, started clawing at the sides of the well, trying his best to try and escape the clutches of the freezing cold water.
It was only seven minutes later that the boy started to sink into the water, only having enough energy to watch his mother, the one he had loved so much, laugh at him and slowly putting the lid back on the well before walking away.
Seconds later Toshiro Hitsugaya, at the age of only seven, died, alone in a well due to the one person he loved more than anything.
Minutes turned to hours, which then turned to days. Which then turmed to months, until one whole year has passed since the death of the young abused boy of a heartless widow named Michiko Histugaya.
Michiko, to her, pulled off the perfect muder. Toshiro wasn't liked, had no friends. Hell, many didn't even know Michiko gave birth to the boy. Yes, she was extremely happy that she finally got rid of that annoying little brat. She wondered why she didn't kill him when he was still in his cradle.
She, now that she didn't have another mouth to feed, not another set of cloths to buy, or another kid in general to take care of, she had so much more money to spend, so much more time to spend with her friends, such much more quiet in her house. She was most likely the most happiest woman in the village.
She thought that it would last forever. She thought that everything was stay like this. She thought that she got away with it. She thought that nothing would go wrong.
She was wrong.
Back at the well, the sound of its lid could be heard sliding off the top. A soaking wet, blueish-gray hand grasped onto the edge of the well. It slid to the slide a little, while a leg was hoisted over the side. It landed on the ground below, followed by a body. Once the whole thing was out, it unsteadily got up and started to go to the one place, the one person it loved.
'I coming, Mommy.'
Michiko was in her room, reading a story that someone gave her. She was so engrossed by it that she almost didn't hear the door to her home opening, but managed to do so. She put what she was reading down to see who it was.
When she made it to the door no one was there, so she asumed that it was a friend that decided to sit in her living room*, so she was surprised that when she got there, no one was in sight. When she heard something in her kitchen however, she thought that a kid was trying totkae something and was just getting it without permission.
But when she got there, ready to scold the kid she thought was there, she screamed into her hand.
There, in her kitchen, wearing a white shirt and jeans, was Toshiro Hitsugaya, the boy who drowned in a well because of his mother.
But there was something off about him. The cloths he was wearing were extremely wet, still dripping in fact, and were ragged and torn in places. And the injury on his head looked as though it had been explored by many creatures looking for food (the thought made a chiil go up Michiko's spine). His fingers weer bloody, and multiple places on his body had black splotches on it. But even with all this done to him, he still found a reason...
...to smile at her.
The smile made Michiko even more scared than she originally was before she noticed it. 'Why would he smile?' she thought. She was too deep in thought about it that she didn't notice that Toshiro had a large knife in his hand, and that he was coming towards her until he started to speak a strange poem.
"Mommy, mommy why did you"
She was terrified. She started backing away from this, this, thing that was coming to her.
"Hate the son in which you slew?"
Michiko's back hit the wall that was behind her. She slid down it until she was on the ground, eyes wide with fear as Toshiro got even closer.
"But Mommy know, no matter what you do"
She started to beg. She kept saying "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, don't hurt me" over and over, but the child seemed not to hear her cries.
"I will always"
He pulled the knife back.
"love"
His eyes wern't that of turquoise anymore. Instead, they turned a horrifying almost white blue.
"YOU!"
He then stabbed the knife right where love was suppose to start, what every human being should feel, but what she failed to do so. She was stabbed right in the middle of her useless heart.
She wanted to scream, to release the agony of her pain through a pain-filled yell, but she couldn't as the boy was not done yet.
He pulled the knife back, but not quite out of her. He wrote, with the sharp edge of the knife in his small hand:
'Love can't be broken, no matter what you do to stop it'
After he was done wrting it, which was surprisingly fast, but not neat, Toshiro kissed his dying mother on her forehead and told her.
"I love you, Mommy. I hope you liked the poem. It was made just for you."
She was dying painfully slowly. She thought that a strike to the heart killed you instantly. She asked, with what little strength she had, "Why aren't I dead yet?"
The wet boy, with a voice filled with nothing but what would be child innocence, told her "Well Mommy, I heard that you can live seven minutes after your heart stops. And since I love you so much Mommy, that time is what I'm giving you to save yourself." He then laughed a bit "It's kinda like what you to me, isn't it Mommy?" His voice was getting distorted and twisted as he continued "Like how you only gave me seven mintnutes to save myself in that well you threw me in. Did you know how much that hurt, Mommy? I was scratching the walls, trying to get back to you Mommy, because I didn't want to leave you, but I failed. But now, we can live here, forever."
There was only a few seconds left before her death, and she thought about what her son, who has indirectly said that he is indeed dead, and thought
'After all that'
four seconds left
'after all that shit I put him through
three seconds
'he still loves me.'
two
'Maybe I'll give him a chance'
one
'After all, I am his mother.'
It was days later that someone found the dead body of Michiko Hitsugaya in her kitchen, dead by a stab wound to the heart. After her death, no one ever lived in the Histugaya residence again. But, if you listen when you walk past it, you can hear the laughter of a mother and her son, having fun together like all families should.
~End~
I dont know, this just came to me after watching The Ring for about the 5th time. I hope it wasnt too horrible to the readers out there!
*im not sure if they have livng rooms with the setting i put, but we can pretend they do, right?^^
And if you have any questions feel free to ask^^ if there are people that review and arent/cant loggin, I'll just put your penname, question, and answer on my profile-at the top so you dont have to look for hours trying to find it^^;
GOOD LUCK TO YOUR SOUL!