I always told myself that I would never feel this way. I wasn't allowed to. I'd only hurt her in the end. Like he did to my mother.
I was so much like him, my mother used to say, as if it was a compliment. I knew it wasn't. She knew it wasn't. But it was one of those things mothers would say anyway, because it was always a little boys dream to be like their father. It wasn't mine. I knew what he did to her, I wasn't stupid. Our house's walls weren't soundproof. I used to fall asleep to him yelling at her, and occasionally, something shattering against the wall. I saw the bruises on her body. My mother wrote it off as nothing more than her clumsiness. Bull Shit.
But I can't deny it. I am like that bastard who killed himself with alcohol before he could lay a finger on my brother and I. Apathetic, Cold, Brutal, Callous, call me what you want. I've called my self it a hundred times more. I know what I am. I know how alike I am to him. That's why I can't let my self near her. I'm capable of hurting her. Capable making her cry. I hate when she cries.
Which is why I can't bare to see her now-a-days. She always looks like she's been crying. I thought, maybe, it was because I had rejected her. And who was I to care if she couldn't get over me that easily? But then I noticed how she stopped wearing skirts, and her shirt sleeves slowly started to become longer. She was hiding something. Like my mother used to.
Her friend once commented on a bruise on her wrist, and She laughed it off, saying she had slammed her hand in the door by accident. It was my mother all over again. Laughing it off, calling her self clumsy, hiding her pain and pretending everything was fine. She can be so stupid. But everything wasn't fine. I saw the fear in her eyes. Why was I the only one who seemed to notice?
I heard that she had a boyfriend now, from the idiot. He was a good trainer, and a real nice guy, apparently. Nice my ass. I would bet my Torterra that this guy was the 'door' that had bruised Hikari's wrist. I won that bet.
My brother had tricked me into going to see one of her contests, and she had won. I planned on leaving early, as soon as she was done performing, but my newly caught Shinx decided to pop out of it's pokeball and take off backstage. I spent half an hour and didn't find him. Instead, I found a scene that had been taken straight from my past. She was slumping on her knees, crying. A man loomed over her, one of his hands wrapped so hard around her wrist, the tips of her fingers were turning as purple as my hair. He was screaming at her, telling her to stand up. There was a red lump on her cheek.
This 'nice-guy' was hurting the woman he claimed to love. He was making her cry. He was doing the exact same thing my father had done, the same thing I had wanted to save her from.
He spotted me first, standing there, my eyes wide. He snarl turned into an odd type of smile. "Nothing to see here. Move on." He said to me, but I didn't move at all. I couldn't. Hikari looked up at me, and said nothing, her shiny azure colored eyes round with surprise, or maybe fear.
The way he treated me like I was just some passerby, some guy who understood perfectly why and what he was doing to his girlfriend was sick. Like yelling and slapping her was a common thing in relationships. That was his mistake. Thinking that I was okay with what was going on, as if it was a secret guy code. I had punched him in the face before I could finish my train of thought. As he slumped against the wall, clutching his now crimson colored nose, I spoke, barely thinking.
"Think Twice before you touch my girl."
The words were out of my mouth before I could rephrase them a bit. My girl, I had said. Hikari had gasped when I said it, and it was obvious I couldn't take it back. She was my girl now. So I grasped her hand, far more gentle then that bastard would ever do, and led her away from the hall, out the sliding doors, and into the serene garden surrounding the contest hall, underneath a cherry blossom tree.
Slowly, I turned her to face me, but she didn't bother to look at me. She clung to my chest and started to cry. I am no good with comforting people. It's awkward, and I've never had to comfort any one. Slowly, I hugged her.
It was then, I realized. I wasn't my father. I was better then him, and I wasn't going to let anyone like him, hurt the girl I cared for most.
Finally something. I just didn't have much inspiration lately O__o Well, here's something. Very short. But better then nothing. Ah well, enjoy :'D
