Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

Summery

ONE SHOT – How many people bothered to ask what was going on behind the smile? Did you ever once stop and think? Did anyone, until it was too late? (Max)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

Lamb: Well description binge time for me again. Damn me and my love of words. This one is dedicated to Iluvbeyblade cus a) I know she likes Max, and b) she's helping my out on a project at the moment.

Getting out of a taxi the other day,
My heart fell out of my backpack and into a puddle,
And so my chest was empty but it felt okay,
I just fished out the pieces and walked away into...

Nowhere and Everywhere

"I'm gonna draw a picture, a picture with a twist. I'll draw it with a razor blade, I'll draw it on my wrist." The words feel thick and heavy on your tongue, and your head is spinning so much that you can barely focus on the bright sliver cradled in your right hand. You try to say the lines again, the sing song rhyme that came to you in the still of the night when you lay alone and the darkness was closing in all around. The words echo back and forth around the inside of your skull, growing and changing, morphing into words and voices that you have no control over.

The first sharp binding pain has long since faded and now there is nothing but the steady comforting warmth that spreads over your hands. Bright roses bloom in sticky patches on the white tiled floor all around you and as you watch still more spring into existence to join their companions. You can hear music drifting through the warm air to you; it's all around you and seems to be flowing right through you. The sound reverberates inside the very walls until finally the whole room is shaking to the beat that pounds in time to your fluttering heart.

It is so strange, you thought there would be more pain than this, but then you wonder maybe it is that even in the end you are not important enough to be allowed to feel what is rightfully yours. Your arm feels heavy as led as you lift your left arm so that your saturated fingers can moisten dry chapped lips. The digits play over the rough skin, edging to the corner of your mouth before slipping down over your chin as your arm falls back into your lap. A pale scarlet trail has been left by their passage, a warm residue you feel upon your skin. The taste is sharp strawberry on your tongue.

'Strawberries sweeter than any I've seen.' It drifts up from the depths of your mind, a fragment of a song from another world. From a time when life was filled with promise and the sky was a mass of stars you could reach for. But no longer that world, it faded with the youth and innocents you could no more keep hold of than moon beams. Tears are falling from your eyes and you're not sure why, you are smiling you know you are but you can taste the salt in the corners of your mouth.

You press the shinning shard to your skin once more; blood rises like little bright beads along the thin line. Again, and again. In lines like rows of soldiers marching across your arm. Your head is spinning and the blade falls from your tingling fingers landing on the white floor among the bloody flowers that bloom there. 'A sliver thorn a bloody roes lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.'

Words without any meaning fill your head, a head that is spinning as if the world around you is tipping and tilting on its axis. A wave of dizziness washes over you, drowning out everything other than the heavy dull ache in your limbs and the sight of scarlet spilling across your icy skin. Fingers of blackness reach out for you, pulling you backward into a world with pain or loss, a place where not ever the faintest star glimmers.

There is music everywhere, it fills you pouring into your very center. And there is nothing but you and the song that is calling you onwards into the vest expanse of nothingness. With a last sighing breath your head falls to the side as the waiting darkness stretches forward and draws you down.

Later they would say that when your body was found slumped on the cold floor of the bathroom that there was a strange half smile on your pale face. Your eyes, translucent and milky in death like a frosted mirror, seemed to be staring at your blood where it had speckled the white tiles with vivid scarlet patterns. And in the corner of the room a CD softy playing on the stereo.

Ok sorry Max fans. I don't know why I had to kill him but it just seemed like a fun thing to do. Max is amazing and I love him to bits, I just sometimes get a pissed at the way a lot of people always write him as the sugar crazed idiot. He is so much more than that.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth