+Prologue+
She opens to a random page in her sketch book. Who cares what the next page is. She's already there. Lines, fluid, random, streak across the page. It all comes naturally to her, but she doesn't know what it is until it's finished. This is how she lets out all the hurt. The pain visible on the page. She knows it'll only happen again, so why cry? He'd always lure her back in and they'd repeat the process. She just couldn't get it in her to let go.
He said his heart was with another. That's how he ended it. He said we had "fun," nine months of fun. She's a great person, he still wants to be close but...
My heart is with another...
At least he told her to her face. He hadn't humiliated her and she liked to think because of that, there was indeed some good in him. But, doesn't he know how bad that sounds? Love doesn't just come up like that. Of course, she knew it wasn't love and of course he knew he the situation sounded terrible. He loved seeing her in pain. He's broken her down so fine that she no longer felt anything but.
She was definitely unlike any other girl. No tears, no running to a best friend, not her. For as long as she could remember, she'd kept everything inside. Never even going to her parents. They loved her, they cared for her, but the communication was never there. Her family definitely did not talk much. Talking with them had never been easy, neither was talking with other people. She had a few friends at least but ultimately she was labeled Anti-Social. Maybe that's why she always went back to him. No matter how many times she'd felt the hurt. He always took her back in.
This girl had always wondered why. Why she always found herself faking a smile, crying on the inside, hiding thoughts and feelings. She was always having internal battles with herself, never quite knowing what she should be feeling. Most of all, never feeling loved. She'd never said what was bothering her, just continued to die inside. Eventually, things would start to go too far, and she was right.
The girl admitted to herself when things were good, they were great. When he was good to her, that's when her world felt stable. That was when her feelings died down and everything was easiest. That was why she continued to go back, because when all the speculation was over, and it truly came down to why did she stay, she knew that was the reason. And when things were bad she would always go back to make life easier. Living became a chore to her. A negative mentality on life settled in easily and she would always go back to the thought that living was exactly that.
She'd tried blocking out all the bad. Behind the fabric of her mind is where she would put it. Losing it in fabrication. Fabrication of these designs, she liked to call them, from her imagination. That made living easier. That was the only place she was safe, that would keep her alive until the next day. There she could relive her pain and happiness in solitude. She'd lose herself in those creations. The creations in her sketch pad. So when she started to draw, all the pain subsided to the back of her mind and during that time it was quiet. The world would consist solely of herself and the materials with which she could rid herself of the pain.
She was a beauty who saw the world only through a blank stare. She'd never bothered to see the true beauty in herself. The world lacked that beauty through her eyes. A dull, lack luster space in which she was only another person occupying it. An extremely small piece of that something greater. A fish in the ocean. Very few people held that beauty she longed to see in the world, but when she found them, her eyes would light with a fiery passion. The world no longer seemed dull.
Words were never easy for her. Images came much simpler. Communication obviously not being her strong suit and all. The words she did speak were only to keep him there and limited to very few. Her voice was always soft and melodic. Speaking was always kept to a minimum.
A permanent sadness settled over her when he told her. He'd left her for the last time, for good. That's when her world fell apart. She still kept all the feelings bottled. Her lips became sewn shut. She sought solace in her sketches. They offered her comfort and piece of mind where seemingly no one else could. That's where the other boy stepped in to fill the void in her life. It'd almost been too late.
Seifer Almasy had influenced her to try many things. He'd whisper harsh threats of flight if she did not comply because he knew she would agree if he said so. He knew just as well as she did that she would always come back. They were an odd couple indeed to many but not one person questioned it. Seifer was popular, he could have his way with anything and everyone. Everyone wanted to be liked by him so they'd never let an insult slip. Not with him or her. Their thought process went something along the lines of: Being nice to Seifer's girlfriend is crucial if I ever want to be seen with him. That didn't mean that the occasional mean threat was never heard. Plenty of girls would kill to be with Seifer. They believed Naminé wasn't good enough for him. She could tell from the way they looked at her when she walked down the hall. She could hear their whispers and see the glares. Sometimes, she would agree with them. In truth, the only reason he made sure no one said anything about her was because he was satisfied with not being questioned. He had that power. It made him completely smug. Albeit Seifer Almasy was never one for mincing words or being humble. He was cocky and mean. The sole reason everyone wanted to question their relationship.
Naminé Takaya was the most innocent, quite girl in the school. Conservative in her clothing compared to the other girls only because she was never scantily clad. Everyone had expected Seifer to go for a girl who was much less of a saint. But if Seifer could get the most innocent girl in the school to go out with him, no one was off limits. Eventually he had though, gone for another girl. One of the many thoughts she could not keep herself from going back to when left to her own devices.
A month had passed and she couldn't get over it, nor would he let her. Everywhere she looked, there were traces of him. In the glares of other jealous girls, through friends, he was everywhere and it was suffocating. The day drawing would start around then. Around the time her thoughts began to consume her. Naminé would pull out the book in a heartbeat and let her hand draw. Sometimes they just helped her relish in the memories. Then it would become too much.
At some point, Naminé had admitted to herself she could not handle the memories alone. She resolved the problem by telling no one and simply resorted to self mutilation. It didn't happen often, but that was her last resort when it came down to this suffocation. She would write a story where no one could see in fine lines no one could read. Under her story, she would label herself: Unloved. Then she would put down her pen and watch the ink stain her clothes. Painless.
Naminé would soon find the beauty she was looking for and he would end all her pain, and teach her to let go.
XX
She closed her sketch book and sighed, the face was never clear to her. She couldn't put a name to it and it frustrated her. He was always the same, a proud smile, blue eyes, sandy brown hair. Naminé pursed her lips in thought. It was just so awfully familiar. She'd never met him before...right? Not in her memories. She looked up to the sky and let a small smile form.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.
A/N: Well, this is the beginning. I hope you enjoyed and will continue reading. This is on a topic close to my heart and written for everyone who feels they've had it hard or unloved. I want to help write love on your arms. Don't let anything get you down, and if you need to talk, go to
Thanks for reading and as always, all reviews are welcome!
