Two - Fourteen - Eighteen - Thirteen - Six
Poli Almasy (white_mage_eiko@yahoo.com)
http://envy.nu/whitemage/poetry
Seifer confronts Squall when they find each other
again at the Garden. An alternate to more traditional
yaoi. Excuse out of characterness, its just
a harmless story. Also I do not endorse self-mutilation
nor have I ever practiced self-mutilation. I'm using
it as a device to tell a story.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Heh heh, I don't need parents. I've got
eveything I'll ever need right here." Fourteen
year old Seifer Almasy stood in the corner of
the training facility of the Garden. It had only
been two weeks since his arival but he already felt
at home. Standing in a darkened corner where he was
sure no one could see him he ran his left wrist along
the sharp edge of his new gunblade.
Curiously he watched his boold drip to the
floor and form a small pool. Ever since he had the
ablity to use magic he had been cutting himself. It
made him feel weak and out of control. Each time as
his magic ablities grew he allowed himself to cut
deeper. Realizing that it was getting late he cured
himslef, not worrying about the puddle of blood, and
returned to his room.
Seifer only had eighteen minutes to get back
to his room before curfew. He wasn't much for rules,
but if he had to endure them to become a SeeD he was
more then willing. There was something about his
insturctor that puzzled him. She was very young, his
age or a few months older, and she seemed expecally
harsh on him.
His mind drifted back to his self-mutalation.
It surprized him that even though he wa happier then
he ever was before and yet he was getting worse. He
decided he only did it to forget what he had been
though. And ever since he had started his memory
was getting worse, he was forgetting the past.
"Will you watch we're you're going!" a somewhat
high pitched boy yelped.
Seifer was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't
even seen the young brown haired boy. He was a good few
inches shorter then Seifer and carried a gunblade as well.
Long chestnut brown hair framed his grey eyes. Something
in Seifer's unclear mind clicked and he smiled.
"Well, are you going to say sorry and help me
up, or just stand there?" it was clear the boy was mad.
Also, that he wasn't mad because of what Seifer did.
Like it was predispositioned that they hate each other.
"Heh, don't expect me to help you." Violently
Seifer brought the edge of his gunblade to the boy's
neck as a sign of domanace. At the angle he was standing
Seifer could see the refection of the boy's eyes in the
cold metal. A few spots of Seifer's own blood was dried
on the edge. The fact the boy's expression stayed aloof
even with the blade close to him amused Seifer.
"Do you have a name, or what?" Seifer angeled
the blade in an attempt to scare him but his expression
remained the same. Rage was comming over Seifer and he
had no other way to unleash it.
"That blood is yours, isn't it?" his cool grey
eyes were now looking directly at Seifer, as if the
gunblade wasn't there at all.
The complexity of this boy was no longer
interesting to Seifer. He lay there, on his back with
a gunblade to his neck, and he was questioning his attacker.
He was breathing heavily but showed no other signs of fear.
Seifer wanted to slit his windpipe so he wouldn't even have
to think about him again. Yet, that would be like throwing
his life away again.
"I cut myself too." the boy began, "It takes away
other pain, doesn't it?" his voice was distant. As if
someone else was talking and not this small, insignifigant
boy. Seifer pulled away the gunblade and let the boy sit up.
He wasn't sure why, but hearing his distant voice calmed his
hate. "I'm Squall....I just joined the Garden." he whispered.
Ignoring the time Seifer sat against the wall and was
shocked when Squall moved and sat next to him. The innate hatred
of the boy was still there, but it was masked by his calm, aloof
nature, which was comforting to Seifer.
"How old are you?" Seifer made a point to make his
voice as threating as possible.
"Thirteen, I'm thirteen." his voice staggered. Fear
was in his voice for the first time. He would take on
Seifer's blade but he was afraid of sitting next to him.
"Y-you don't scare me. You know that? I'm not afriad, just
cold."
"Then you should go back to your room." Seifer tried
to keep his voice stable and held back laughter. He couldn't
remeber ever laughing. He had felt so many emotions in the last
few minutes. He had to get rid of these fellings, this stress
Once again Seifer raised his gunblade and brought the edge to his
wrist.
"Don't." Squall's words were crisp even though he was
tired and cold. "The gunblade is too hard to cut with..it's too
big."
"You have a better idea?" Once again he lowered his wrist to
the blade. Squall passed him a small pocket knife. Blood stains were
along the outside of the casing.
"Um, I don't know how to ask this, but. Can I cut you?" again
Squall quivered. Seifer was a bit shocked by the request. He wasn't
sure what the younger boy ment by it. Even more shocking was that
Seifer considered it. He wanted to know how it felt to be cut by
someone else. Slowly he nodded and returned teh knife to its owner.
With amazing speed Squall removed his gloves that were
too large for him and exposed his delicate hands.
"Under one condition, I want to cut you." Coldness returned
to Seifer's words. Shyly Squall nodded and resumed his task. He drew
out the blade and brought it to an inch above the older boy's flesh.
Then with a swift movment he cut the skin. He only went half as deep
as Seifer had eariler but it felt so different. Like a whole new
release. He dare not show he was in pain. As far as he was concerned
he was still dominate over Squall. Without a word he pasted the knife to
Seifer.
He took the boy's thin arm in his hand and steadied it. A
sudden fear of cutting too deep came over him. But, he decided that
even if he went too far, the spell would still mask the incision.
Without thinking he cut into the boy's soft flesh and felt his blood
run over his fingers. Squall allowed himself to let out a small cry
of pain. Seifer could detect tears in his stormy eyes. Yet, he was
sure he didn't cut too far.
"How many times have you done this?" Seifer questioned.
"Only six times, counting this time." he was in pain
but tried to hide it. He didn't want Seifer to think of him
as week.
"You're weak. But so was I when I started." he turned around
and left the training center. He ignored his scars and let them
bleed on the floor as he walked to his room. He didn't care anymore
what people thought of him.
Poli Almasy (white_mage_eiko@yahoo.com)
http://envy.nu/whitemage/poetry
Seifer confronts Squall when they find each other
again at the Garden. An alternate to more traditional
yaoi. Excuse out of characterness, its just
a harmless story. Also I do not endorse self-mutilation
nor have I ever practiced self-mutilation. I'm using
it as a device to tell a story.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Heh heh, I don't need parents. I've got
eveything I'll ever need right here." Fourteen
year old Seifer Almasy stood in the corner of
the training facility of the Garden. It had only
been two weeks since his arival but he already felt
at home. Standing in a darkened corner where he was
sure no one could see him he ran his left wrist along
the sharp edge of his new gunblade.
Curiously he watched his boold drip to the
floor and form a small pool. Ever since he had the
ablity to use magic he had been cutting himself. It
made him feel weak and out of control. Each time as
his magic ablities grew he allowed himself to cut
deeper. Realizing that it was getting late he cured
himslef, not worrying about the puddle of blood, and
returned to his room.
Seifer only had eighteen minutes to get back
to his room before curfew. He wasn't much for rules,
but if he had to endure them to become a SeeD he was
more then willing. There was something about his
insturctor that puzzled him. She was very young, his
age or a few months older, and she seemed expecally
harsh on him.
His mind drifted back to his self-mutalation.
It surprized him that even though he wa happier then
he ever was before and yet he was getting worse. He
decided he only did it to forget what he had been
though. And ever since he had started his memory
was getting worse, he was forgetting the past.
"Will you watch we're you're going!" a somewhat
high pitched boy yelped.
Seifer was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't
even seen the young brown haired boy. He was a good few
inches shorter then Seifer and carried a gunblade as well.
Long chestnut brown hair framed his grey eyes. Something
in Seifer's unclear mind clicked and he smiled.
"Well, are you going to say sorry and help me
up, or just stand there?" it was clear the boy was mad.
Also, that he wasn't mad because of what Seifer did.
Like it was predispositioned that they hate each other.
"Heh, don't expect me to help you." Violently
Seifer brought the edge of his gunblade to the boy's
neck as a sign of domanace. At the angle he was standing
Seifer could see the refection of the boy's eyes in the
cold metal. A few spots of Seifer's own blood was dried
on the edge. The fact the boy's expression stayed aloof
even with the blade close to him amused Seifer.
"Do you have a name, or what?" Seifer angeled
the blade in an attempt to scare him but his expression
remained the same. Rage was comming over Seifer and he
had no other way to unleash it.
"That blood is yours, isn't it?" his cool grey
eyes were now looking directly at Seifer, as if the
gunblade wasn't there at all.
The complexity of this boy was no longer
interesting to Seifer. He lay there, on his back with
a gunblade to his neck, and he was questioning his attacker.
He was breathing heavily but showed no other signs of fear.
Seifer wanted to slit his windpipe so he wouldn't even have
to think about him again. Yet, that would be like throwing
his life away again.
"I cut myself too." the boy began, "It takes away
other pain, doesn't it?" his voice was distant. As if
someone else was talking and not this small, insignifigant
boy. Seifer pulled away the gunblade and let the boy sit up.
He wasn't sure why, but hearing his distant voice calmed his
hate. "I'm Squall....I just joined the Garden." he whispered.
Ignoring the time Seifer sat against the wall and was
shocked when Squall moved and sat next to him. The innate hatred
of the boy was still there, but it was masked by his calm, aloof
nature, which was comforting to Seifer.
"How old are you?" Seifer made a point to make his
voice as threating as possible.
"Thirteen, I'm thirteen." his voice staggered. Fear
was in his voice for the first time. He would take on
Seifer's blade but he was afraid of sitting next to him.
"Y-you don't scare me. You know that? I'm not afriad, just
cold."
"Then you should go back to your room." Seifer tried
to keep his voice stable and held back laughter. He couldn't
remeber ever laughing. He had felt so many emotions in the last
few minutes. He had to get rid of these fellings, this stress
Once again Seifer raised his gunblade and brought the edge to his
wrist.
"Don't." Squall's words were crisp even though he was
tired and cold. "The gunblade is too hard to cut with..it's too
big."
"You have a better idea?" Once again he lowered his wrist to
the blade. Squall passed him a small pocket knife. Blood stains were
along the outside of the casing.
"Um, I don't know how to ask this, but. Can I cut you?" again
Squall quivered. Seifer was a bit shocked by the request. He wasn't
sure what the younger boy ment by it. Even more shocking was that
Seifer considered it. He wanted to know how it felt to be cut by
someone else. Slowly he nodded and returned teh knife to its owner.
With amazing speed Squall removed his gloves that were
too large for him and exposed his delicate hands.
"Under one condition, I want to cut you." Coldness returned
to Seifer's words. Shyly Squall nodded and resumed his task. He drew
out the blade and brought it to an inch above the older boy's flesh.
Then with a swift movment he cut the skin. He only went half as deep
as Seifer had eariler but it felt so different. Like a whole new
release. He dare not show he was in pain. As far as he was concerned
he was still dominate over Squall. Without a word he pasted the knife to
Seifer.
He took the boy's thin arm in his hand and steadied it. A
sudden fear of cutting too deep came over him. But, he decided that
even if he went too far, the spell would still mask the incision.
Without thinking he cut into the boy's soft flesh and felt his blood
run over his fingers. Squall allowed himself to let out a small cry
of pain. Seifer could detect tears in his stormy eyes. Yet, he was
sure he didn't cut too far.
"How many times have you done this?" Seifer questioned.
"Only six times, counting this time." he was in pain
but tried to hide it. He didn't want Seifer to think of him
as week.
"You're weak. But so was I when I started." he turned around
and left the training center. He ignored his scars and let them
bleed on the floor as he walked to his room. He didn't care anymore
what people thought of him.