I know I should be focusing on my other story 'Familiar?', but when I get an idea, I have to write it down. Now, I hope you're prepared for insanity and character death, because this story will most likely be full of it.
A young man runs through the dense forest, tears running down his face mercilessly, blinding him almost entirely. He ran and he ran, finally, he dropped onto his knees. He sat there for a few seconds, letting the situation he was in sink in. He laughed. It was a bitter, humorless, insane laugh. He laughed and he laughed, his tears flowing endlessly. The loud laughs slowly morphed into sobs. He sobbed boisterously into the night. It was a dreadful, heart-wrenching wail.
He brought his legs up to his chest and hugged them, sobbing into his knees. As it started raining, he looked up at the sky and let out a frustrated shout. He sat there for the longest amount of time. The rain drenched him. He couldn't tell if he was crying anymore. If it weren't for his tired, red eyes, no one would've known he was crying. 'Cold and alone... Always have been, always will be...', He thought before he passed out, drifting into a world full of dreams about his past.
...
The young man, his name is Arthur Kirkland, saw himself and another man cuddling each other in their shared bed. They sat there whispering sweet nothings to each other. They were in love, yet they were both male. Many people consider this a sin and would call them satanists. Arthur thought, 'I love Francis. If love is a sin, then send me to Hell and let me burn.'
This particular memory was one of Arthur's favorites. Francis Bonnefoy wold look at him with his soft, loving, dark blue eyes and offer a small smile. Arthur would smile back and kiss him chastely. He would wrap his arms around him as they fell asleep peacefully, the dream slowly morphing into another memory...
Before Arthur confessed his love to Francis. He sat next to Feliciano, silently. Feliciano Vargas was talking animatedly to his boyfriend who sat on the other side of him. Arthur sat there watching, envying their relationship, wishing it could be like that with him and Francis. They were so happy together... He was jealous, and therefore became frustrated and cold towards the people he knew. He began distancing himself from everyone he knew. He would remember silently crying himself to sleep as the dream would fade into another memory.
Arthur saw himself crying silently as he watched Francis from a distance. He was smiling. 'He has a beautiful smile.', Arthur thought. But he wasn't smiling at him. He was smiling at his girlfriend, Michelle. The girl was beautiful, albeit rather gullible. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel and she had long, brown pigtails. Arthur had a terrible feeling growing in his chest. It was a nasty, envious feeling. The feeling fully bloomed as he witnessed Francis kiss Michelle. He hated Michelle for having Francis's heart and attention.
The dream faded once again as Arthur watched himself run away, his face soaked with tears. Anger. Screaming. Arthur sees his father yelling at him drunkenly. He hates that man. The man abuses and rapes him. Sorrow. There's nothing he can do about it. The last thing he remembers from that night is crying. He's always crying. But isn't crying okay?
His dream changed again. He was screaming, yet he had no idea what he was saying. His vision was shrouded with red, an angry color. He grabbed a knife, swinging it around madly. He heard himself say a single phrase, "I'm tired of this!"
She stabbed him. Red, red everywhere. Red is good. Red is the color of love. It's also the color of roses, his and Francis's favorite flower. It was the color of Hell, death, the devil, and blood. He laughed maniacally. His father was dead. Francis was shocked into silence. The first thing he thought when he saw Francis was, 'Must make sure he tells no one.'
Once again, there was red. Red everywhere. Arthur dropped the knife and laughed. The next thing he knew, he was outside watching the house burn, engulfed in flames. Yellow, orange, red... Red, red, red... All is red.
And he ran. He ran and he ran, not looking back, tears spilling down his cheeks. He's always crying...
What'd you think? Do you think I should continue? Let me know! Even if you hated it, tell me!