AN
- Well, this technically can't be called a story, but it's a bunch of one-shots
in Kamui's perspective; they were too short to post by themselves. o.o; Written
so I could y'know .. maybe get my characterization a bit better. ^^; They're in
order by date written.
-----
Zufallend
-The Kamui Monologues-
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April 18, 2003
The beginning .. Truly, it seems so long ago, demo .. what was the true start
of this hell? When did Fate turn her attention aside and forsake me, her own
offspring? Ripples of misfortune shift the waters of placidity, forever
affecting my life with their existence. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, why I
continue to live on in this pale, fragile body that reveals scars and bruises
so clearly, mentally and physically. And also why .. everyone insists on
keeping me here. As their pet. Their slut. Their Kamui. I never wanted that,
but I don't want this either, being so weak, so powerless to defend against
their advances. So I remain beholden to them and their wanton ways, continuing
to submit to their split-second whim, alone. Forever alone. Who would want such
a broken toy anyway?
-----
May 2, 2003
So that would be me. The broken one there, on the floor. On my back, wings
splayed awkwardly outward as I lay in shock that anything so horrible could
happen to someone that walks this earth. These scars, so bitterly won, will
never fade, be they inward or outward. Yeah, that's me, the hopeless uke with
no future and the Wish that I had no past .. but it's there, and I can't run
because it will only pursue me with a fresher malice than ever before.
Translucent skin juxtaposes against snow white feathers, too pure to be the
taint that I am. Like twisted and broken shard of mirror, I know I can't hide
the pain so evident in my eyes, nor the fear, the terror, desperation, or the
death that I so frantically want to evade, yet also .. Wish to embrace. I'm
hung on the chasm Between, my line wavering and my way quaking as I lie here ..
unknowing of which way I want to go. Either way, another piece of me will be
lost.
And not even a Wish will return it.
------
May 12, 2003
Masaka .. Demo .. Shinaide ..
Roses. So innocently white, only to be defiled with splattered droplets of a
sinful scarlet. Did roses have thorns .. or did thorns have roses? Is it right
to kill for someone you love, or would it only bring more hatred into the
world, born of your own animosity?
Silence. A muted torment that twists and converts enigmatically beneath a
translucent surface, swimming within the pale confines of its own creation. No
prison could inflict as much torture, no cage could release as much fear,
terror or doubt as the human heart could produce.
Amethyst. Lavender pools of mirrored effervescence that don't originate
therein, but are merely reflected from the surrounding influx of rampant
emotions. Yet, it is only a fleeting moment in the careless flow of time that
they revert back into a dull, emotionless stare and not even the last rays of a
newly dying dusk could pierce the darkness that convened.
Metal rings plink together musically, the noise of submissive subjection to the
will of another. Yet nothing could be further masterful than the turning of
emotions, enslaving those who continue to believe they hold power over them.
Uke I may be physically, but to become unassured in my own mind is the cruelest
punishment of all.
Inflicted by the self.
Preventable by none.
Only those who Wish to be saved may pull themselves from the encroaching
drowning effect that would claim their will and their freedom.
