Hey, Friends! This here is a little something I'm working on. It'll be quick, just a couple of chapters.

Read this chapter basically as Vanitas' journal. As we head into the next couple chapters there will be more details, because the memories will be fresher.

This story is basically a slice of life piece.
~*~*~*~

I was born out of a desperation to save my mother's marriage.

My elder brother was what could be referred to as, "a happy accident", which roughly translated into, 'my parents were in high school when my mother found out she was pregnant, and so they got married.' Things worked out for a little bit, and then my father began to have a wandering eye and my mother missed the attention of being pregnant—that's a guess on my end. But my brother and I are 15 months apart.

So right off the bat, my parents were vastly unprepared for my arrival. Still, my brother was never meant to be an only child. He had a wild imagination and needed a companion for his wild adventures.

Now, let's look at a photograph—see that boy with the bright smile so infectious it'll make you smile even if you don't feel like it? Bright blue eyes that make the sky look dull and uninviting? Yeah, that's not me. That's my brother. I'm the other kid—the chubby one with the snaggle teeth. Perhaps most importantly is that dark aura surrounding me.

Sora was a bright and upstanding boy. I was just kinda... there.

But we had each other, and we loved each other. Sora was my whole world, and I was his best friend.

Until the day Sora met Riku. That was a shift for sure, but it wasn't anything intolerable. The three of us would go to the play island and play together. Sometimes they just wanted to hang out together, but I was just happy to be included in anything. We made a few more friends over that short period, and we all played together on the island. It was a simple life, but it worked for us.

It might have just been a play place to everyone else, but to me, and maybe even Sora, it was an escape. Our home life wasn't exactly wonderful. My mother was completely dependent on my father for everything. So Sora and I took care of each other.

It kinda went like this:

I would fall asleep on the bottom bunk, and would wake up in the top bunk with Sora or he would be in the bottom bunk with me. We would wake up and talk about any interesting dreams we might have had. We would head downstairs and make two messy bowls of cereal while our mother would wake up and make her coffee, and then head over to the window for some "alone time", which was always followed up by an open window and a spray of air freshener.

The truth was, that did nothing to cover up the looming odor of the smoke. My mother thought she was hiding it well, but our father didn't fail to notice—he just failed to care.

After breakfast, Riku would usually swing by. He was always an early riser and was dressed and fed by the time we would wake up. We would run upstairs and get dressed—Sora in the same old play clothes, and me, in some tight fitting shirts and shorts.

We would pack up a few sandwiches and juice boxes and head over to the play island and play together, eat lunch together, and would head home at nightfall.

More often than not, we would come home to our parents screaming at each other over one thing or another—money, infidelity, whatever. Sora and I would just eat whatever mom made for dinner—usually tuna casserole or something simple out of the slow cooker. We'd eat, and then we'd find a story book and I'd read a story for us. Then we'd go ahead and head to bed.

I should probably clarify—Sora and I loved our mom. She was nurturing and kind to us. She raised independent kids. She allowed us to be children. I just don't think she was quite ready to be that person all the time.

Our father on the other hand was cold. Stone cold. He granted us no breathing room.

I think that's why we chose not to rely so much on our mother. She was too busy keeping him from being annoyed by the whimsies of children that she didn't have the energy to be who she wanted to be.

We were okay.
We had great memories.
But because of our father, we also had great shadows.
Still, Sora and I had each other.

Then, when Sora turned five, he headed off to Kindergarten—along with all the other friends we met (Wakka and Riku were in first grade). Being the youngest, I was subjected to not having any friends my own age, and without Sora, I didn't have a chance of making any new ones.

When Sora came home, he was, for the most part, whisked off by Riku to do whatever, and sometimes if I was feeling particularly bold, I would ask to tag along.

Sitting down on the sand got me an idea—all I needed was some scrap lumber, and then I could make our play island even more exciting. So I did. Every day while Sora was in school, I would grab some scrap lumber from the scrap lot (more than you'd think), but it on a boat and paddle over to the play island. Eventually I made a few interesting additions, and although it was by no means perfect, it was pretty good for a little kid.

That, though was the year of what Sora and my mother oh-so-affectionately refer to as, "The Incident".

I remember some of it—It started out like a normal day. It was Saturday, and Sora was feeling particularly generous, that was the only thing out of the ordinary, and I think I only noticed it because it was one of the last times it was given freely. We ate breakfast, which consisted of microwave oatmeal (made with water, because we were out of milk) and frozen juice we force-thawed.

When Riku finally showed up, he sat with us while we ate.

"C'mon you two." Riku said, standing from the kitchen island. "Let's get a move on."

He actually invited me.

I was pretty giddy, so I plopped right down from my chair and ran outside. We paddled over to the play island. When I think back, I remember being in Riku's boat. We made it to our playground, and I remember us walking for a bit.

Riku mentioned the cave. Sora was apprehensive. I wanted to impress them... So I went in first.

That's was it. My memory stopped there.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Sora and mom were there—they both started talking to me at once. I looked around the room. I saw my once frozen cold father standing there with a deep sadness. He almost looked frightened. His terror terrorized me.

So, yeah, an event that I have absolutely no memory of became the beginning of my decline.

After "The Incident", I had to attend therapy sessions. They asked me questions I didn't understand. They hooked me up to machines.

A few CAT scans, a few MRI's. Blood test here, new medication there. That was a rough year for me. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I was 4 when I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia.

Sora and I never slept in the same bed again. I remember trying once. He got up and ran downstairs.

The next year I started school I realized some things.

Firstly, I was different than all the other kids. I already knew this, but being around children my own age really affirmed that for me.

Second, Sora and I were drastically different—enough that the teachers didn't even notice we were siblings. The other kids didn't either, and after the first day of school, when I found myself lonely and jaded, I ran to him, hoping he would toss me some sympathy—or even help me make some friends. Whichever came first.

Long story short, he didn't.

He kinda just looked at me like I had two heads, and to tell the truth, that hurt a lot. Still, I understood. Even back then, I knew the other kids didn't have to sit in a room with a weirdly dressed adult asking questions like, "do you feel like you're a threat to yourself or others?"

So I backed off.

I didn't make a single friend that year.

Occasionally, I would have an "Episode". I would wake up in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and fluid-tubes. Sora and mom would be there, scared and pleading. Then later, I would just wake up in our bedroom, and eventually I would wake up alone. They were getting used to it; I couldn't remember it.

It was at this point I realized a shift in the family. I saw darkness looming in our home.

I would wake up late at night to my parents arguing.

It was about me. It was always about me.

School was boring. The teachers for the most part ignored me.

I'm not going to lie—having a medical diagnosis was a wonderful curse. Teachers didn't bother me. The other kids didn't talk to me. I didn't feel like doing a project? I don't feel good. I didn't want to do the homework? I can't. There's something wrong with me, remember?

It wasn't until much later in elementary school I realized the teachers and kids weren't ignoring me out of kindness or even rejection—they were afraid of me.

Suddenly...it wasn't so wonderful.

To top things off, at the end of my forth term (I was 10 years old), my father took his stuff and moved out of the house.

My mother was never the same.

Their divorce was my fault.

My mother was broken because I was broken. I was darkness, and I was spreading through the house.

Sora knew the divorce was my fault.

The rift between us grew ever larger.

Right after my father left, my mother told us she was pregnant.

"Sora, Vanitas... this is your sister Xion."

Our beautiful baby sister was born on my 11th birthday. I didn't feel cheated, because I loved her immediately. It was the greatest gift I ever received.

Xion looked exactly like my mother. Even when she was a shriveled up newborn I knew she did. Sora wasn't as thrilled.

Don't get me wrong—he loved her, he was happy. He just wasn't as happy as I was.

My father came home occasionally, but it was more like a visit than it was our father being home.

At that point, I had already realized they were trying to make it work for her. I realized I was the problem. So I made myself as scarce as possible.

Then I had another "Episode" – Only this time, the kicker was, I remembered it. Well, I didn't remember the event, per se, more so, I remember what happened right before.

Sora was gone when I woke up to the alarm clock. I turned it off, got dressed and headed downstairs. Sora was at the table, eating cereal. Father was there, drinking coffee, reading the newspaper.

Mom was in the living room, feeding the baby, humming.

It was nice...calming. I wanted every day to be like this.

I sat down, watching Sora eat. I wasn't feeling hungry, but to be perfectly honest, I tried to avoid eating as much as possible—It didn't seem to matter, because I was still quite chubby even when I skipped meals.

That's when it happened. I started shivering. I wasn't cold, but I couldn't stop shaking.

I don't remember saying anything, but my father and Sora both turned to look at me at once.

"Vanitas?" Sora asked. "Are you alright?"

"What?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm okay." I was still shaking.

"Vanitas! Mom it's happening again!" Sora called out, getting out of his chair and moving toward me.

I remember hearing Xion cry. I remember hitting the floor.

Then I woke up in the back seat of the car. My father was driving me somewhere.

I sat up in the backseat, too apprehensive to say anything. I rubbed at the back of my head, hearing static somehow.

I caught his glance in the rear view mirror.

He hated me.

I sat inside the doctor's office for a long time. I saw my father talking to the doctor outside my room, but they were too far away, and speaking in hushed voices.

My parents divorce was finalized before Xion's first birthday.

Our father never came back.

My dearly beloved brother and sister lost their family because of me.

So I collected my share of belongings and headed down to the basement. I dragged my mattress down the stairs, tossed it on the floor, and that was my new bedroom. I avoided Sora like I was the plague.

Our mother was sick.

Not like me—a different kind of sick. After Sora and Xion's father left, she started to wither. She had her own darkness, but it was a cloudy white compared to the midnight shade that loomed around me.

Sometimes Xion would cry—hungry, wet, teething...and my mother would just sit there and ignore her.

Sora and I came home to this, and even though we hadn't talked in a while, we didn't have to open our mouths to communicate that we wanted our sister to have a great life.

So we gave it to her.

We raised Xion the best way a 11 year old and an almost 13 year old knew how. Didn't sound like much, but she survived infancy. Sora spent his weekends, and I used my "illness" as a free pass.

I attended the mandatory amount of days, and used the rest to raise my sister. My father sent my mother the court appointed amount of money every month, but it wasn't the same as him living there.

Our mother was deteriorating, and Sora was about to start his last year of elementary school, (exams. Big time.)

So I took care of Xion during the day, (with the promise I put her down in a safe place and call Sora immediately if I felt any sort of way) and when he would return, Sora would take her and I would head out to do small jobs around town.

Sora brought my school work home for me, so I simply did it, turned it in, and rejected the idea of ever going back to school.

My mother started to get better. Xion turned two. Sora did "alright" on his exams. I didn't have an "Episode" for almost six months. Things were looking up for us.

Then my mother got a job. She placed Xion in daycare. She made me start going to school again.

I managed.

Then our graduation exams came up.

I was called into the office on what I figured was a routine, "how are you getting along, Vanitas? Are the other kids somehow managing to tolerate you?" kinda thing.

It wasn't.

It was more of a, "you did really well on your exams, and we want to make sure you're not cheating" thing.

In a totally non-accusing way (read: yeah, they accused me of cheating) they made me answer a sheet of extra questions right there.

Then I "enjoyed" summer vacation.

Sora hung out with Riku. I got various small jobs. My mom started dating.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

The next year, I started Middle School.