Love. People have laughed before at the very thing.
Love. The reason I'm trapped in this asylum, with walls towering over me. The only time that I've truly felt small.
Love. The very reason I live on through this Hell.
There is no light in this place – they said I wouldn't see the stars until I got rid of this illness, this strange 'love' that only affects very few people. They think that if they rob me of light, then I will be forced to give up. Give in to their horrible ways. They don't realise that who I love is what lights up my entire world, and without her… I'd be nothing.
I stared blankly at the wall in front of me – there are lines marking the days I'd been in here – and I could still remember the very day I was taken. I closed my eyes, thinking back to her.
The way she carelessly flicked her curls over her shoulder; a habit she had acquired when she was nervous. The way her large, doe-like eyes stared at me in surprise and horror, a hint of disgust hidden deep down beneath them. The way her lips were parted slightly, mouthing my name.
My heart ached.
Around an hour or so later, a van had arrived at my house. She had called for them to take me away, I knew. She got shoved out of the van, looking scared. Her passive mask – for the second time today – had been broken. The group had forced themselves inside, my mother starting to sob as the person I loved shakily pointed me out. I got grabbed, only getting a chance to look back at her once, to see that she had slid down to the ground. All the hope that had filled me when I was first taken here was long gone – I had accepted the fact that this disease was a life-sentence of being trapped here.
I reopened my eyes and blinked back my tears. There are footsteps nearing. I stand up from the uncomfortable wooden bed. There's no way to tell what the time is here, but I know that it's too early for dinner. Time crawls in this place, and we'd only recently had lunch.
I moved toward the gate of my cell-like 'room', to see a large group of security escorts positioned in a circle as they walked past. In the middle of the circle, there were two more escorts – and between them was a petite girl. Her blonde curls hung limply around her, and her face looked pale when she finally tilted her head up. Those familiar brown eyes locked with mine. But instead of disgust and shock, they were dull. She recognised me immediately, even though my long purple hair had been shorn off when I first arrived. Slowly, a look of hope and defiance had reached her eyes again, and she gave me a nod.
It was strange how much she hadn't changed – she was still short, and kept her hair as long as ever – but at the same time she had changed; she had looked more mature and duller, as if all the life had been sucked out from her. It scared me a little. What happened to the girl I knew – who was full of life?
They had locked away her arms in a straitjacket – she had probably tried to hit them and run. But that didn't work. Everyone knew that.
Who had she fallen for? I wondered. Who was the lucky guy? Was it Fuyuki Kirishima? He was nice enough – albeit a little obsessed with her. Was it Ikuto Tsukiyomi? He was the local heartthrob, his old best friend Amu wouldn't admit it – but he knew she liked him. As I thought through all the different possibilities, I couldn't help but feel jealousy pang at my heart.
Who was the person who sent you here? It was one of the biggest questions echoing in my head. I knew that if I was that person – I wouldn't have ratted her out. Perhaps it was because after all this time, I was so madly in love with this girl that hated me with all of her being.
Just seeing her here had brought a grin to my face, and I couldn't wipe it off. I moved away from the gate when she had disappeared from my vision, and collapsed into my bed.
Somehow, just by seeing her here, I'd had so many emotions that I hadn't felt in a year or so bubbling up inside of me. It was so peculiar how she filled me with so much hope, whereas when she looked at me, she had felt nothing at all.
I sat up. Picking up a small rock, I carved my unrequited feelings into the wall. After I was finished, I grinned again and sat back to stare at my handy work, satisfied with myself.
Fujisaki Nagihiko loves Mashiro Rima.
GASP. IS JO/SQUISHU/THENERDYFANGIRL FINALLY BACK FROM THE DEAD?
A: Hopefully. I've started writing again after a long break consisting of writer's block and me getting too lazy to actually write things. I got this prompt off of Tumblr, because I'm unoriginal a'f, but yeah.
I've been toying with the idea for ages, actually, and I thought it might be better in first person rather than third, which was really strange for me to write. But I hope my writing style has improved a little from when I last wrote, (although the ending was rushed, I really was stumped on how to end this, sorry) and that y'all enjoy this depressing little… thing.
I'm not going to promise to make this into a multichapter, but I might make this a twoshot to show Rima's side of the story and her feelings of what happened – since she was also in the asylum at the end.
Who do you guys think the person is that sent her to the asylum? And who did she love?
I don't even know how to end this A/N either, actually. Uhh, if you like the story, or have any constructive criticism, please leave a review or PM me because I'd really like to hear what you guys think. And yeah.
Sorry for being gone for so long! I'll hopefully be on more, if I get more inspiration (I have inspiration for a songfic, actually) so look forward to it.
I love you all!
- Jo / Astridic