So, I got the inspiration to write something depressing, so that's what I did.

I don't own Card Captor Sakura, just so you know.

Exposed

Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

I was perfectly content to fade into the shadows, to leave behind nothing for anyone to remember of that sad little girl in the background. What joy can he find in my pain? How can he just stand there and watch as my hidden sins flow freely from the carefully locked box in my heart. Now the key has been found, or the lock just was broken into, and all those lies, all the darkness in me, is free to ensnare me, to take me up in it's arms and choke away my everything.

The tears fall down my cheeks, over my mouth, onto my dress, and even now I can feel my carefully applied make-up streaming down my face in disastrous clumps. My back is to the door as I draw my knees closer into my chest, like the feeling of something pressing against me there will sooth the raging fire inside of me and stop my demons from screaming my greatest fears to the world.

I can hear them; all their painful accusations plunge deep into my mind and trap it in a whirlpool of hatred and deceit. And the worst thing about it all, the thing that makes me want to start laughing for the hysteria of it all is:

It's all true.

Everything down to the very last whisper is true. Every last thing those demons are shouting, wailing, shrieking into my heart. And now everyone knows it.

Now he knows it.

I can see them now, my supposed friends, the liars, secretly laughing at my failure. They wanted me to fail, they all felt that I was too pure, too perfect, and now look at me, I've been brought down to their level. No, they would never say that to my face, but I hear it anyway, even if they don't hear me.

I'm not as naïve as they think me to be. I've heard their secret whispering, the plotting to dethrone me of my innocent place up top a place so high none can seem to reach. I know that what they desire of me is to fail, to fall down so that they would look good picking me up. When I see them next, they will show their empathy, the regret they feel that I've been exposed, stripped of the protective layers, the mask that hides the truth, which they all have still intact. They will comfort me with false words of comfort, with grief-ridden hugs and their empty words. But they'll be grinning on the inside, like a murderer laughing as someone else gets jailed for his crimes, quietly as they can, so their lies will hold.

I know they will, I expect no less.

But why did he have to know? Why couldn't I have covered his ears and closed his eyes to my pain, to the darkness in me. I never wanted him to see me this way, so betrayed by all. I had hoped that he would be gone, far enough away that he couldn't even have an inkling of knowledge that I had faults, that I wouldn't, no, couldn't measure up to what people thought of me.

Not that he doesn't have faults, he does. So many that teachers and parents often look at him with a critical eye. Maybe it's his appearance, the grungy look he seems to have even in the school uniform, the tie missing, the coat left unbuttoned, and his hair everywhere. Or maybe the piercing on his ears, the rings that glint in the light. Or his attitude, and the scowl that shows on his face when he is around people, or the blank look that makes a person look like trying their hardest isn't enough. I had gotten so many of those stares, and they somehow motivated me to try harder, to go further than I ever would before.

But here he is, standing right here, seeing the mess I had become. And the truth is:

It's all because of him.

If he wasn't thrust into my life, I wouldn't be this sad, this miserable. Because he's going off, to leave me alone, and I can't stand it. I can't bear the fact that he's leaving, and it's tearing me apart. I'm a mess right now, and everyone can see it, can hear my demons screaming out in fury of the injustice in it all.

I feel something warm across my back, the heat searing my flesh. It pulls me toward a warm body, but I'm too ashamed to even open my eyes. He's holding me, mumbling words even I can't hear. It's so soothing, and I lean into him, even though I know he's leaving me. Even though it's his fault. Even though my heart is breaking with every moment that he's here.

"Sakura, I love you"

I look up at that. It must have been an illusion, a figment of my demented imagination that makes his mumbling seem like the one thing that I want to hear, the one thing I know will break me. He's still leaving.

But he looks at me with such sincerity, such honesty that I know that I wasn't imagining his love.

I sink into his love, letting it heal this broken body of mine for a little bit longer, to save me from myself while I was in the safety of his arms.

Everything will work out.

Eventually.

End.