Disclaimer: the only thing I own in this story is the plot and the hobo who lives on bus 90…

My grammar really sucks and I don't feel like getting spell check (I'm lazy)

Be a hero destroy yourself

Prologue

Y-M-C-A

Swim or drown… that's how my father taught my brother and I how to swim. I can still smell the chlorine as our father dragged us through the YMCA hallways. I was in my stripped bathing suit, my shoulder length hair tied in a low ponytail. I could still see Sota's expression, his mouth tightly closed, his eyes as wide as saucers, his free hand reaching out for something to grab on. The room was long, and the ceiling high.

The strong smells became more intense by the second, and the butterflies in my stomach seemed to never stop fluttering. It was like a war in there or maybe even an out of control dance party like they would do on television. My imagination took the terror out of my empty head as we continued to walk around the pool to the far back. Sota trying to drag his feet and me with a blank out expression, a goofy smile spread across my face as I tried to imagine the butterflies having a dance party.

My thoughts were shook away as we stopped suddenly, right where the deep end was. The butterflies suddenly stopped their dancing, they where probably also sacred to death, knowing what was going to happen next.

I never knew how the man was so strong, probably ate spinach for a hobby and benched in his library all day long. Or maybe he was the Hulk in disguise; later on I would of though of another option. The army.

I remember being thrown up into the air by my arm, and how Sota was stiff as a pencil when I watch him fall into the water with me. The blue liquid splashed up in the air as I hit the water… silence.

Sota swam… I drowned.

I actually stayed at the bottom of the pool just for the fun of it. The silence seemed to calm me; everything was like how I imagined heaven to be like. Silent and weightless… I was like a butterfly in mid flight, arms spread out. I did not touch the bottom; I was more in the middle.

Everything was a light blue, the thin rays of light that filtered through the water made everything look like crystal. I was running out of air, but I didn't care. I was just happy there. My heaven…

The next thing I knew, I woke up on the side of the pool, my father hovering over me, his face sadden as if saying sorry… I smiled to him. And that's all I needed to do to make him think I was crazy.

But my father did not stay much longer with us, he was back to war in a week, after a long month, we learned he was sent to jail for using someone else's teapot. We heard nothing about him for about four months. Until a letter came, it was a three-page letter, one for me, one for Sota, and one for my mother.

In my letter, my father kept saying how big of an imagination I had, and he knew I was going to be the smart one. He said I would probably write a book on science fiction. I hated writing. He also said I would probably go to college right after highs school. It never happened. He told me to not jump in puddles anymore, I would get sick. I still do. He told me to get a nice apartment. I got the crummiest one. He to told me to never get involved with someone dangerous. I did.

In the end of the letter, for one whole paragraph, he said over and over to never, to never get involved with the government, the war, or terrorist. And… I did.

At the very bottom of the page he signed his name and put a little heart beside it. With the words written inside. "I. Love. You." That was the only sign of affection had he ever shown me. I thought he was probably drunk while he wrote the letter. But his writing was neat and not shaky. The letter is now somewhere in a book in my apartment. Or what's left of it.

With the letter, my father also gave me something. Something I whish I never had. It was his triangular blade. I could still hear him tell me when you would ever stab someone with it, the wound would not close, and he would then tell me it was because it would rip out a big piece of skin. The blade is actually not very thin, but more bulky than anything else, and it much heavier than any other blade. You could easily knock someone out with it.

The blade was now wrapped up in leather, wedged in my boot, beside my toes. It was one of the most uncomfortable things. I was sitting at a window seat; one of my legs was pulled up to my chest as I watched everything pass by in a blur. The wagon was coming to a slow halt as the sound of a woman's voice came over the speakers, announcing the next stop in a broken voice.

The doors bounced open as the wagon finally stopped. People rushed out, and peopled rushed in; scared they might not get on. When the doors finally closed, everyone was taking up each other's personnel space, breathing each other's air and sharing each other's thoughts same thoughts. "Why didn't I buy a car?" For most of them, that problem was money; they other half their car probably got bombed.

But for me you might say it's probably because I don't have the money. Or maybe I'm just plain lazy…the truth is that it will just bombed.

Last week I found a beautiful smoky grey sweater, wrapped up in brown paper at my door with a letter from my mom. It's the only sweater that ever fitted me perfectly. The colour seemed to bring out my eyes, and the sleeves where a tad too long so they would be like mittens… now it looked as if someone threw it into a wood chipper than washed it in mud… and whoever cut my hair was either drunk or had bad eyesight. I was not having a good day.

From the corner of my eye I could see my hair stick out like barbwire. The usual raven hair was now more like a neutral black with some grass embedded in it. Letting out a tired sigh I stopped breathing, trying to hear the southing buzzing. But I couldn't. The constant chattering was overpowering it. It felt as if I was back in a high school cafeteria; the loud talking and the way people seemed to lean against you even though there is a lot of space.

My skirt was sticking out like a tutu. My mom would have probably said it looked more like a hoop skirt.

The cart stopped in another halt as the door once again opened, most of the people poured out. Only a few remained.

Whoever was sitting beside me could probably see my underwear, but I didn't give a care in the world. I closed my eyes in comfort as I listened to the comforting buzzing sound. The wagon rocked back and forth as it went faster and faster. Everything was making me sluggish, like a lullaby, or the slow ticking of a clock…

"I never imagined you wearing polka-doted underwear." A voice said in a low whisper. The voice was tired, and I knew to whom it belonged to. I had a temptation to strangle it.

I could fell my lip quiver as I slowly looked back to the seat beside me. He was wearing his usual black hooded sweater, the one with ripped thumbholes and cigarette burns. The hood was covering his head and he had on a red hat to cover all of his silver hair. Aviator sunglasses balanced on the bridge of his nose hiding his golden eyes. He looked like the hobo who lived on bus 90.

"So," I started to off slowly. "Did you have a good laugh, leaving me in that hell hole?" I said, trying to stare through his sunglasses into his eyes. All I know he might be looking out a window and not me.

"I euh-"

"Did you," I asked, my voice filled with anger.

"Kagome I- I never-"

"And I believed you, I did… I was stupid!" I screamed the last part, tears rimmed my eyes. People in the wagon gave us a quick look and then went back to doing nothing. "I actually thought you would never abandon me."

His hand cupped my face, as his thumb whipped my tears. "Kagome, please- I… something happened."

"What? You made another deal with my cousin to kill me! Is that it?" I screamed out, trying to muffle a sob.

"Kagome please clam down, I would never do such thing."

"You're full of lies Inuyasha; everything you say is a lie! You're name isn't probably Inuyasha." The tears fell down my hot face, I could fell each of them slowly roll down, like small crystal balls.

"That's not true, I actually have a good reason… but I can't tell you know."

"Why?"

His head slowly turned to side as if he was looking around the wagon. "I need that little dagger you have."

"It's not little- oh my God you're going to kill me!" I whimpered crawling to back of the seat.

"If I wanted to I would just snap your neck or something like that." He said, probably rolling his eyes behind his shades.

"But- like why?"

"Life or death thing." He said his hand already out ready to take it from me. Slowly unzipping my boot, I reached for the leather pouch; it was still there beside my toe. Handing it to him I watched as he took out of its pouch as if it was a present. He threw it back and forth from hand to hand. "This is like a torture instrument."

"Probably, my dad got it in the army." I said looking at it.

A businessman across from us looked over his newspaper to see what we where talking about, his eyes slowly went down to the dagger. His mouth gapped open and his words trembled. "Kni-- knife!" He screamed out, while he pointed at it with a shaky finger.

Before anyone could react to the man's screams Inuyasha stood up with the dagger in hand and started to attack one of the seats. He was chipping away around the sides, not touching the seat it self. Everyone stood up, mouth gapped open.

"Inuyasha stop it! Stop!" I screamed out as I took a step back.

"Kagome pull the red emergency lever." He screamed over his shoulder.

"But-"

"Just do it!"

With out thinking it out, I went in search of it. Tumbling over my feet I finally found it up in the corner. On the side of the wall there was instructions on a metal plank, there were stick figures showing what to do in case of an emergency. Not caring, I reached out for it, that's when it happened.

My arm was twisted back, making a painful crack as I was thrown to the ground punching the air rout of my lungs. Everything seemed to double as I squinted in confusion. I groaned in pain as I was pulled back up by the hair roughly, my arm was twisted once again behind my back, and I could feel someone's breath down my back.

"Everyone lay down or I shoot!" A male voice screamed out. I could hear my heart beat in its rib cage, each time it got louder and louder. Everyone in the wagon was quickly trying to lay flat against the ground, all trembling in fear. Inuyasha slowly stepped forwards as if nothing happened; his hands were behind his back as if he was having a stroll in the park.

"Let her go." He said stopping in his tracks.

"I said lay down!" The attacker screamed his voice raising. From the corner of my eye I could see the gun was now being pointed towards Inuyasha. It was a small handgun, but it could probably make a big hole. I hung my head low as my arm was twisted even more.

"I sai-" The attacker stopped in mid sentence. The tight grip he held on me was suddenly gone. The presence behind me slowly faded away as I heard a soft thud, the handgun was now sliding across the floor.

My mind was spinning as I slowly turned around to see the attacker on the floor, my father dagger now lodged in his forehead, his eyes where glossy and he was already loosing colour. Whenever I'm going to die, I would like it to be either in my sleep or in a car crash. Not by a flying dagger.

…I have a feeling I'm going to forget to write the next chapter… oh and for like the next month I won't be in my sweet home but on an island learning how to drive a boat… I'm going to kill myself…. Please Review…