i do not own beyblade
The End
You do not know me. Why would you? I am nothing like you or anyone else for that matter. I am dirty, contaminated, weak. Maybe if I was stronger I could have stopped him from hurting me. I repeatedly tell myself that it is all a dream and that I am loved, but in reality that is not true. I do not understand why I was chosen to bear this pain, but one thing I do know is that I must bear it alone.
You do not understand why it is that I stand away from the crowd in my own world of seclusion and isolation. If you knew me, you would feel compassion for me, pity would be forced upon me. If I had wallowed in self-pity all those years ago then I would never have reached where I am today and be the person who I am today. You do not see that I am a fighter; not only physically but mentally as well! I have set up a barrier consisting of ice and anger within; therefore if no one can penetrate my defence, no one will be able to cause me pain and diminish the tiny flame that is my soul. You may not see it but I am swaying on the borderline, one small step in the wrong direction and I may be lost forever.
Every time I think about what HE did, I sink further into depression, drowning in my grief. But I refuse to let HIM influence my actions anymore. I will stand up and remain strong; HE has no control over me anymore.
I try to confide in you, help you to understand me; however, you hear me but do not listen. How do you ever expect me to leave my inner sanctum if I do not receive the required help and understanding to my situation? You think you know everything, but really you know nothing. You think you see me but it is really only my shadow as I hide in the darkness, refusing to lift the veil and enter the light.
In the beginning, it only occurred rarely, but now it is becoming more frequent. I try to stop it but I no longer have the strength and willpower to carry on in this crimson tear stained world. That is why at the moment I am sitting in my 'room' in my house. It was never a place that I could call home, a home is full of happy memories and joy, my house has never been full of that, only pain and suffering. My 'room' was small but large enough to fit a bed and dresser inside (even if they were pitiful and weak). I guess my furniture reflected how I was, pitiful and weak, how ironic. In front of me sat a bottle containing pills which I stole from the bathroom, contemplating whether I should use them or not to end my suffering. Memories played through my mind of all the times I was violated and used for others' amusement. The flame of raw anger once again burned deep within my soul, begging to be released but I had to control it because I knew that unleashing my anger would do more harm than good. One memory stood out more than the others. It was straight after my first time: I was confused and afraid, not knowing who to trust and what to do. I lay in a sea of crimson, rivers still flowing even from where I lay. Thoughts were flying through my mind at an incredible velocity that even I could not determine what they all meant. I felt anger, shame and confusion cover me like a blanket, attempting to shield me from the truth; however the attempt failed and I knew exactly what had happened. But I did not understand the reason why this occurred. Even to this day I still do not understand, but I doubt that I will ever get the answers I seek so I buried my questions along with my soul a long time ago. HE entered the room again, and stood and watched me trying to piece together the broken shards of my innocence, gloating that he caused this breakdown and doubt to enter my life. His laughter bounced off the walls of the room, staining it an even darker colour than what was poring out of my wounds, clearly enjoying himself. I felt sick to even know this man. Why did he do this to me? What had I ever done to him to cause him to place so much pain on me? HIS footsteps vibrated on the floorboards, sounding like thunder in my pounding head. Black boots stopped directly in front of me, a hand reached down and pulled me up by grabbing a handful of my duo-coloured hair, straining the roots until some snapped. Even though more pain was being added to my long list of injuries, I did not feel it as my body had become physically and mentally numb. HE began yelling insults at me, bruising my spirit even more, telling me that I was worthless and did not deserve to live in this realm. I learnt to block out these insults as they meant nothing to me. I focused on happier memories when my family was happy and I could do whatever I wished, but these memories did not stay very long when HE started again.
Reality came rushing back to me after I snapped out of the trance that held captive my memories. Indecision still edged its way into my mind. I took one last look round my sore excuse of a room and consumed the entire bottle of medicine. There was no turning back now. They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, I had never believed that but now I saw that it was true, but instead of all the negative parts of my life, I only saw the positive. It almost made me want to stay in the realm of the living; however I knew that even if I did survive, my life would never be that positive ever again. So I allowed the darkness to consume me; and fell into its tender embrace, breathed my last breathe and left the world of the living forever.