Falling. Tumbling head over foot into a deep endless abyss of pain, from which there is no escape.
This, was not the way things were supposed to be. Things were supposed to work out as they always did, with happy fairy tale endings and hugs all around. Instead, the hugs he received were of a very different kind and nothing at all like he dreamed they would be. Nothing like he had imagined during every joyful bedtime story.
Rough fingers had left him bruised, slender digits prying him apart and driving into him with enough force to make his entire body tremble with the pain of it. He was only a boy, how was he to understand. Poor, poor Mizuki, too pretty to be a boy and yet far from a girl. His only friend in the world was a stuffed pink elephant he called Hime-chan, and one of his parents friends, an adult. Even now he was unsure as to what he had done to upset his friend into doing this, into hurting him in such a way, for he was sure the fault lie with his own actions. Somehow, he had done something wrong, something his friend didn't like. It was the only explanation.
Silent tears dripped off his chin as he curled up as tightly as he could on top of his lavender comforter, Hime-chan tucked under his chin and clutched in tiny delicate hands.
He found himself longing for his parents, as most children were wont to do in situations they could no more understand than most people could understand of the world. He knew they wouldn't help him though, they never had. It wasn't their fault though, it was his. He had heard them talking once. His father had wanted a son. Instead, he ended up with Mizuki.
He sniffled softly, determined not to wake his friend even as he tried, and failed, to shift into a more comfortable position. He winced as horrible pain shot through his backside and sobbed harder still, wondering what he had done to deserve this, and how he could try to fix things.
Messy ebon locks tumbled in front of his face, ivory skin clashing with silken strands of night dark, shielding wide, wet eyes.
He wished he could sleep but his fragile mind kept him awake with the unanswerable question of why?
Mizuki had been hurt before, though not physically more than a stubbed toe or scraped knee, teased to the point of tears and segregated from the other children his own age. This though, this was different.
What the other boys and girls said to him hurt, but he told himself they didn't matter, they didn't know him. Wise thoughts for a child indeed. But this man, this man was his friend. He knew Mizuki. So maybe, Mizuki really did deserve the taunts and teases at school. If his friend was driven far enough to actually hurt him like this, then he must. The fault lay with him. Somehow, he had caused people pain, and it had come back on him threefold.
A slight stirring from beside him made his waif-like body stiffen in terror, despite the knowledge that he somehow deserved what he was getting. As a hand snaked over his bare chest a whimper escaped from his thoat and he could do no more than tremble—
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Mizuki shot up in bed, his breath coming in terrified pants. Sweat matted his glossy black hair and his body shivered as if in a cold wind.
Slowly, his wildly beating heart steadied, his breath coming easier to his throat. The nightmare remained heavily in his mind, unlike the things that fade away moments after waking, memories tended to stick around to haunt you. Mizuki knew this. He rested his head back on the pillow, intending to forget, promising himself a dreamless sleep. He wondered if maybe one day, he could convince himself to forget.
Whatever happened in the future was unknown, and Mizuki dreamt only of falling.