this take place PRE kira case, so this story reveals a side of the whammy kids that nobody has seen thus far. ooo. but i must warn you before you begin reading this tragic story... most of it involves an OC. in fact, this whole first chapter is entirely about that OC. SO, melloxnear fans... youre going to have to wait before we get to the juicy stuff. enjoy.
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"I don't see much underneath my fluttering lashes. I don't find the world very promising. So of course I submerge myself in a world of my own, not even bothering to understand. Because everything here is abstract. When I'm here, I don't need to think. I can just act out on my feelings, and not be hurt."
Brush stroke by brush stroke, an image begins to form. Cleverly placed splashes of color become a piece of art. A young girl's intelligent gaze sweeps over the painting, carefully calculating the next flick of her brush as if it's a next move in a battle. Her long, wispy light brown hair falls over her shoulders and tickles her ribs. A simple red dress covers her frail body. She rests her feet dressed in black stockings on the legs of the wooden stool.
She pouts and leans forward, adding pink to the mouth of the girl she is painting. The girl in the painting is the picture of perfection. Smiling with wavy blonde hair, pink tinted cheeks, and porcelain white skin. She's standing in a meadow, surrounded by waves of gold and clouds of white. The young artist smiles and signs her name on the bottom left of the canvas. Aimée.
Aimée glances to the side with her crystal blue eyes. Roses, sitting in a glass vase adjacent to her stool. Red, red roses. As red as her dress. As red and stained as her very being. She sighs and turns back to her painting.
Suddenly, she hears a loud crash from the other side of the house.
Aimée's face drains. Her blood turns ice cold. She freezes, eyes wide and bones creaking. The crash is followed by a shrieking scream. She stands up from her stool and runs across the hallway. She opens the door abruptly, slamming it against the wall. The shadows are long and menacing over the face that meets her frantic eyes. The large stature and presence of her father looms from across the room. Under him, Aimée sees her mother's figure, battered and broken. His dirty shirt reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and his evil smirk didn't help his appearance much. Aimée grits her teeth and digs her nails into her fists. She exhales shakily, and musters enough composure to steady her dry voice.
"Welcome back, dad." She says voice angry and strained. "What happened? Did one of your whores walk out on you?" she manages a smirk. "…yet again?"
His smile quickly turned into a nasty scowl. He leaves his beaten "wife" and somehow manages to trudge across the room. Barely. She bites her lip and shuts her eyes, as he comes towards her. She hears each step her takes. She can swear the ground is shaking underneath his stomps… or is it just her? His large gruff hand grips her shoulder, and shoves her. Hard. Aimée hits the wall, and falls on the ground. She clutches her side and groans inwardly, spitting some blood on the floor. She tries to stand, but feels a sharp pain in her side and fails miserably. Her world meets the floor again, pain racking her body. He smiles again and pulls her up with a fistful of her hair.
"I'll... take that as a yes..." Aimée spits out, staring him dead in those cold, disgusting eyes.
He lifts his free hand and punches Aimée in her shoulder. The sheer force knocked the wind out of her. He may be a useless bastard, but he sure is strong. The sharp, pang of pain was almost too much to bear. It was obvious he had broken something. She yells out in pain. He raises his arm yet again, to hit her. Aimée closes her eyes, wishing. Wishing for her mother's safety. For her father's demise. For her own peace.
But, suddenly, she feels herself hit the floor. Her eyes open to nothing but blurriness. She smelt the iron of blood. Her heart thumps inside her chest, her throbbing head spinning. Dizzily she sits up and focuses. She looks up and sees her father's chest, bloody and gushing. His eyes widen. Aimée sees something she's never seen before. Fear in his eyes. He falls to the ground with a loud thump, revealing Aimée's mother behind him, her frail hands wielding a gun. Her eyes are wild, and she's shaking like crazy.
"I... I had to do it... Aimée... she..." She whispers. Her black hair is thin and messy, and her skin dull and uncolored. Her face is cracked and broken from years of abuse.
Aimée looks up at her from the floor in shock. "Mama..."
"...You… stupid, fucking whore...!" The bleeding drunk breathes from the floor, obviously losing his fight against the loss of blood. He swipes his leg, knocking Aimée's mother down. She falls over, and the gun slides across the floor. Panting, he grabs the gun. Her eyes widen with fear at the sight. She tries to get up frantically. He smiles one last nasty smile. He points the gun at her, pulling the trigger.
"NO!" Aimée practically shrieks as she reaches out and tries to stop him. But she is too late.
The gunshot sounds through the air, followed by the sound of her mother hitting the ground. Aimée's father laughs weakly, letting the gun fall from his hand. Aimée scrambles across the floor, pushing his now lifeless body aside.
"Mama!" She kneels by her side, her mother's light blue eyes that matched Aimée's beginning to dim. "Please don't die! You can't!" she holds her mother's hand, which is beginning to feel colder, in her own. "Don't die!" Aimée repeats.
"I'm.. I'm so sorry…" Her mother whispers as tilts her head just enough to see her daughter's face, blood trickling from her mouth. "Can you… be happy? Please… Be what I never could be. You're smart, Aimée. You're beautiful. You're fearless. You have a chance to find happiness." Aimée could see the sincerity in her eyes, as she looks beyond her to something unseen. Her mother's eyes shimmer at the sight, as tears overflow to the brim of her lashes. "Find it. Grab hold of it. Never, ever let go."
Aimée doubles over, her forehead against the ground, and vomits. Her side hurt. Her shoulder hurt. Her head hurt. But above all, her heart hurt. She wipes her mouth and hugs her mother, sobbing frantically. Desperately. "You... You can't leave me!" she wets her mother's sweater with her tears. Aimée feels her weak arms brush against her shoulders.
"Hey…" Her mother says in a voice quieter than a whisper. "Do you know? I really love you."
Aimée nods, her face smothered in the wool of her sweater.
"You don't need to cry anymore." And she breathes her last.
Aiméewhimpers as the bloody hands of her mother fall away from her shoulders, lifeless and cold. She looks at her mother's face, a mirror image of her own. Her eyes are empty except for tears. Her mouth was opened slightly, her once minty breathe now smelling like iron blood. She watched as one single tear slipped down from her mother's cheek onto the bloody carpet beneath her.
She falls onto the floor next to her mother's corpse, still crying hysterically. The walls are painted with blood. They are almost as red as the roses down the hall. Almost as red as Aimée's soul. Almost.
did you liiike? well, dont judge just yet! theres more to come~ tell me what you thought of our OC, Aimee^^