Inside This Mental Jail

by Saja Natalia

A very depressed swordsman sits alone in the dark of his abode, wondering what to do with his life after all of his crimes. Formerly known as Of Blood, Sake, and Stale Memories, this fic can apply to Sojiro or Kenshin. Part four of the Identity series.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or anything that has to do with it.

Author's Note: This is part four of the Identity series, my series of oneshots. Along with this one, I have Megumi, Yahiko, and Battosai (I count Battosai, Kenshin and the Kenshin in between the two as three separate people, so they will each have one of these).

It might be a bit unclear, but this is Kenshin in between when he stops being Battousai and when he starts being rurouni (what should I call this Kenshin?). This takes place during one of his many hours of contemplating his crimes.

Please read and review! Your comments are what keep me writing!

Enjoy!

-------

There once was a time when I could face whatever danger faced me. There was a time that I could stand up to anything. That time is over. It has been for quite a while.

Once I was fearless. I was envied. I was everything I was expected to be.

That time is gone as well. Gone along with the many days I wish would return, but know never will. I will never be who I was. I will never be the man I wish to be again. I've changed too much.

And now I stare deep into the bottom of my bottle, willing more sake to fill it, for more of that mind-numbing liquid to restrain my regrets, my pain.

To restrain me.

But I can no longer afford such a luxury. I cannot smile. I cannot linger on memories, painful memories of the past, memories that this precious liquid helps me to forget. I cannot linger on these memories.

But I must.

I must, to save myself from falling apart completely, to save myself from a harsher hell than the purgatory that is already mine, the brutal torture for my crimes.

I would end my pointless existence, but I fear it will do no good. I know it will do no good. It will all end up worse than this. My pain will just grow, so I have no choice but to live in this purgatory, fearing my final sentence, my hell.

People brush past my dwelling, unaware of the monster that is trapped within. They don't know the deeds I have done. They don't know the lives I have taken. They don't know the sickly stench of blood that wafts from my hands. They don't know the treacheries I've committed.

And they shouldn't.

There is no reason for me to emerge from this place, no reason for me to face the light that burns my very soul. There is no reason, and there will be no reason. I am a demon that must seek shelter, away from all others. Were I to ever face them, more crimes would surely be committed by this beast within me.

I must never emerge from this place of insanity, from this room that reeks of blood and sake and old memories. I must never emerge. I have been banished from the world by my crimes, doomed to dwell in the shadows of this mental jail until I rot away to nothingness, until not even the rats approach me. I must die here, alone until the agonizing end.

I just pray it comes soon.