Author's Notes: This started out as a sort of half-dream at eleven, right before I went to bed. This developed into something worth my while and a day later I was up to chapter five. I decided to post it, because I don't have any exceptional Weiss fics focusing on Weiss.

Disclaimers: I don't own or claim to own anything even remotely Weiss-like. I haven't even seen the entire anime and most of this is guesswork out of pure fandom-induced knowledge. If anything is incorrect, please, fail to notify me. I repeat: FAIL TO NOTIFY ME. I really don't need to know. This is more a depressing flight of fantasy for the sheer joy of writing it (and for you, perhaps reading it) and I really don't claim that anything in this fic isn't pure bullshit.

Warnings: Bullshit as it is, I don't want some mother getting pissed off as me for somehow magically teleporting to her house and shoving this into her child's hands. Yes, there is drugs, suicide, yaoi (gay) sex or referrals to yaoi (gay) sex, melodrama, themes of death, depression, violence, swearing, and a little OC-ing, though I hope not too much. If there's other warning that should be put here that I somehow missed, feel free not to worry about it. Just don't be a twelve-year-old and tell me I'm being gross, because they gives me every right to tear right into you and reduce you to tears.

Other comments: Please, Enjoy.

1

It didn't start like this right away. It was more of a slower spiral into the abyss I inhabit now. I wasn't always like this; I wasn't always some ice sculpture with the lovely shattered insides, not like the others would you to believe. I wasn't always some sad pill-popping freak with a sword and a death wish. That came after, after everything went to hell and back. That was after my entire life blew up, my reason for living got sucked into her own little mind game, when I was left with nothing.

I hadn't planned life like this, or rather, to end life like this. As appropriate as it seems now, I had never wanted any of this. Well, yes, I wanted revenge, I wanted my sister back, I got those. But my hands…my face…I can't even look at myself; I haven't been able to for years. I doubt I could recognize myself. I don't own a mirror and the only one in the bathroom was smashed in one of my rather rare fits. It doesn't matter, not the scabbed-over knuckles that still weep pain or my distorted face and those empty, unseeing eyes I sometimes see watching me from the other side of that mirror.

Like now, as I open the medicine cabinet, take down my pills and close the door again, I see those eyes, they see me. They see, know and accuse me. I'm such a coward, I can't even stand to shove the blame on others, but I can't live with myself now that I'm all that's left to hate. I pour a glass of water and go back to my bedroom, if it could be called that. The apartment I now own is so small I can barely breathe, but that won't be a problem much longer. I sit down on my futon and pop open the bottle, pour out a handful of little blue pills and set them on the nightstand beside me. I pick one up, place it on my tongue and swallow with one small mouthful of water. I check my watch, check my letters, and sit back to wait. There are two envelops on my nightstand, one addressed, naturally, to my sister, and the other to Kritiker. I had another one I sent to Youji, but I don't know if he got it.

I think I'd be happier if he didn't.

I sit back and I wait, check my watch again and take another pill. I can't take them all at once; I'll only vomit them up. I know; I've tried it before. I read too much to know how to do this right. I know a lot of horrible things; how to make a bomb, how to make my own poison, how to kill someone without getting sick, how to slip by blood diseases in a world full of AIDS and HIV and other crap flowing in the veins of the truly disgusting. I know how to bring back the living dead and how to break away from them, how to greet a lover and leave them without looking back, I know how to hack all kinds of systems, how to write one hell of a suicide note…

I should've got a job in counseling. I could've done some serious population control.

I should start at the beginning, because I'm starting to sounds pathetic.

Fin chapter 1

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