Sha-bam. Ib. Because I love that game. This is an AU/AH story. Ib will be 15. Garry, 17. Problem? Too bad. I don't care. I am fabulous.

Ten years ago

I sat away from all the other children in the yard, silently sketching in my notebook and trying to ignore the gleeful shrieking of the others. I stiffened as a shadow passed over me.

"You're really quiet. Why is that?" a voice spoke. I looked up to see a blonde girl with eyes as blue as a cloudless sky standing over me. She was watching me with interest.

"I have no reason to speak. And no one to speak to," I told her simply. It was true. The other children either avoided me or bullied me. I had no friends.

"No one to speak to? Don't you have any friends?" she asked, and I shook my head, and she gasped in what seemed to be horror. "What!? Why don't you have any friends?"

I looked down. "Because they think I'm a witch," I said, my voice quiet and void of emotion; a way of defense I developed against the other children. I did not want them to know how much they hurt me with their cruel words.

I saw her fists clench in my downward gaze. I gulped quietly and looked up to see her looking furious. "You know what? I don't care what they say! I'm going to be your friend! Your BEST friend!" she declared, plopping down next to me and sticking out her hand to shake. "My name's Mary. Pleased to meet you!" She smiled wide, and I hesitantly shook her hand, making her smile widen into a grin.

"I'm Ib."

Seven years ago

It wasn't hard to tell that something was bothering Mary. For once, she was quiet and reserved, a heavy contrast to her usual bubbly and friendly personality. She disappeared during lunch. I walked around the school, searching for her.

She sat on a bench behind the school, in front of the pond that held our school's "mascots". The koi fish. I approached her slowly.

"Mary? What's wrong? You've been quiet all day," I mumbled, gasping as she turned towards me. She had tears going all down her face. "Mary! What happened?" I asked, rushing over and sitting by her, my arm going across her shoulders.

"Th-They're dead, Ib. My parents are d-dead. They were in a c-car wreck," she sobbed, leaning heavily on my shoulder. I rubbed her back. "I-I have nowhere to go. My parents are g-gone. They're aren't c-coming b-back," she blubbered, her sobs turning into hoarse wails. I felt a surge of determination. I made her look at me.

"Come live with me. Be my sister," I stated, and she stared at me.

"W... What?" she asked, tearful eyes filled with confusion.

"I'll talk to my parents. They can adopt you. You can come live with me and be my sister," I stated simply. I wasn't going to take "no" for an answer anyway. She gave a hesitant smile. I gave her a rare grin that took up my whole face.

Six and a half years

Mary looked nervous as the few belongings she had were brought into the spare bedroom of my home. I turned to her and gave a rare smile. She hesitantly returned it.

"So Mary, what do you think? Think you'll like living with us?" my – our – mother asked as she walked up to us, setting a gentle hand on Mary's shoulder.

"I'm sure I'll love it," Mary replied quietly, looking up at our mother and meeting her warm gaze. Mother smiled.

"Good, we'll love having you. Ib especially," she said, shooting me a sly glance. I mock-glared at her as Mary giggled.

"Thanks, Mom," I whined, taking Mary by the hand and leading her to my room so we could draw more of our little doodles.

Mary hadn't been the same since her parents died. She wasn't nearly as bubbly as she had been before. She was still friendly, but not overbearingly so like she was. Luckily, she seemed to regain some of her old self when my parents adopted her. I taught her how to draw so she could take her mind off of the accident. It wasn't long before she was better than me, though she still claimed that I was the better one of us.

Six years ago

I yawned as I stretched in my ridiculously uncomfortable seat at my desk. The teacher droned on about science facts that I had already known. I stared out the window, the blue of the sky reminding me of Mary's eyes. The anniversary of her biological parents' death was approaching. I was determined to help her get through it. Maybe we would go to their graves.

As the bell rang, and I gathered my things, I saw Mary out in the yard already. She was sitting on the koi pond bench, where she had told me about her parents. I swiftly walked out there. I didn't quite make it to her.

I shrank back as a boy that seemed to be too big for fourth grade stepped in front of me. A few lackeys hung back behind him. "Where do you think you're going, witch?" he asked, giving me a cruel smile full of filthy, crooked teeth.

I stumbled back, only to find more boys behind me. "I-I'm just going to meet with my friend," I said, wincing inwardly at the stutter in my voice.

"Friend? I didn't know the witch had a friend," another boy said, his voice nasal and full of gleeful malice. The other boys chuckled.

"Let's show this witch she doesn't deserve friends," the main boy cackled, raising up a fist to hit me. I shut my eyes tight, bringing up my arms to block a blow that never came. I heard grunting, opening my eyes to see Mary clinging onto the boy, one of her fists in her hair, the other raised to hit him. The other boys had fled. I watched helplessly as they struggled to best each other. A cry of pain made all of us freeze. The boy was clutching his stomach, eyes filling up with shock and tears. Mary staggered back, looking horrified. I realized then that her fist hadn't been empty. It held her pallet knife, which looked like it had been dipped in red paint. But I knew it was the boy's blood. She let out a sob that sounded like "I'm sorry". The boy scrambled to stand, wobbling when he did. He took one more look at Mary and ran as best he could with his injury. I tripped over to Mary.

"... Mary? You okay?" I asked her slowly. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I... I hurt him, Ib. I stabbed him with my pallet knife. I didn't mean to. I was just trying to save you..." her voice cracked as she let out another sob. I pulled her into a hug, and the pallet knife fell from her hand as she wrapped her arms around me as tightly as she could.

"Its okay... I still love you. You're still my sister. You're still Mary," I whispered, my eyes filling with fearful tears. I wasn't scared of her. I was scared for her.

Five years ago

I stared blankly at the white walls of the morgue. I couldn't believe what had happened. After everything that we had been through, Mary had done what I never thought she would do. I left my eyes drift back down to the paper in my hands.

"Ib. I'm sooo sorry. I never wanted to leave you. I promise. You're my sister and I love you. But I just can't take anymore. I'm sorry. My parents dying affected me more than I had told you. Then I hurt that boy. I really didn't want to do this. But I didn't want to take the risk of hurting you, too.

I love you,

Mary

My eyes filled with angry tears as I stepped up to the coffin. Mary's lifeless body lay in it, looking as beautiful as she always had. Her golden hair was shiny and soft-looking, and if it weren't for her cold skin and colourless complexion, one would think she was simply sleeping. But she wasn't. She was dead. She had killed herself out of guilt and grief and fear.

I dropped the page of a sketch I did for her in the coffin. A final gift for my sister. My best friend. My only friend. It was of us. We were holding hands like we had always done when we went places. We had been each others lifelines. Or so I thought.

I turned away. Unable to take any more, I quickly marched out of the morgue and into the rainy cemetery. I ignored the sympathetic glances. I ignored their pitiful whispering. Standing in the heavy, blinding rain, I took a deep breath.

"How could you!? I thought we were supposed to be together forever! You promised me! How could you do something so stupid! There's always another way! How could you leave me like this!?" I broke down at the end, falling to my knees in the mud and sobbing pathetically. "How could you abandon me like this...?" I whimpered quietly. I knew I would never be the same.

Two years ago

"Ib Rouge?" the teacher called out, staring down at the role call, I didn't even look up from my sketch I was working on.

"Here," I replied quietly. Ignoring the whispers of the other students. Being thirteen now, I was in junior high. I haven't enjoyed it thus far.

After the incident with Mary, my parents decided that we should move away. Away from all the pain and depression and emotional baggage. The fact that my dad's work called for him to move his family was just a convenient excuse. A knock on the door interrupted the teacher's role calling.

I looked up through my lashes and bangs and watched as Mr. Grant walked over to the door and pulled it open. "Yes?" I heard him say, before he stepped back and allowed a tall, lean, young man step in. The young man smiled a smile that gave me tingles in my belly.

"Hello, young kids. My name is Garry Spencer. I'm your Student Council President and I would like to welcome you, personally, to our school," he rushed slightly, standing straight with his arms crossed behind his back. The teacher spoke up.

"Class, how about you introduce yourselves to Mr. Spencer," he said, his dull voice raised so the students would listen.

As the class stood at their seats one-by-one to introduce themselves, I watched the man – Garry – listen intently to them. When it got to me, I stood and spoke, my voice void of emotion.

"My name is Ib Rouge, and I would like to ask you a question," I stated, and Garry perked up.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why do you talk like a lady?"

1,823 words. I could do better. Sorry its all over the place. Next chapter will be up whenever I finish it. And hopefully, it will be longer. Sorry for OOCness.