This is the story of Rakka's life before she became a Haibane, told from the perspective of the boy who traveled over the wall to forgive her. This is the first fanfic that I've felt was good enough to put on here so constructive criticism (emphasis on CONSTRUCTIVE) is appreciated.

Chapter One: Friendship/ Bruises/ Talks By The River

I first met her when I was in nine. I had just moved to a new town, and was looking to make a friend. She was there, so I decided that she'd be my friend. After a week in the new school, I met more people, but I always made room for her.

The girl didn't have a lot of friends, but I don't think that I realized then how lonely she was. It wasn't pity that made me want to be friends with her; it was just that she hadn't turned me away, as some other kids had. She told me later that she had become my friend for the same reason. Her father had died when she was seven, and she'd pulled herself away from the world. By the time she returned to her life, everyone else had pulled away from her.

My mom didn't approve of my new friend. She told me to stay away from her, and refused to drive me to her house. So I decided to walk. The girl's house was a mile away, and to get to it I had to cross a bridge that passed high above a wide river. At first I was scared of falling into the water, but after a while I got used to it, even stopping to take in the view of the raging water far below.

The house itself was little more than a glorified trailer, but I rarely went inside anyway. We would play games in the woods near her house. I only met her mother once. The girl didn't say anything mean about her mom, but when she talked about her, her eyes would sometimes get watery, as if she was about to cry, but she never said why. She rarely said unkind things about other people. I don't think she even let herself think such things. She blamed herself instead when people were mean to her. I got the impression that her mom was mean to her a lot.

In middle school, I started seeing bruises on my friend's arms and legs, but I never said anything. A rumor traveled through school that her mom was beating her up, and I wondered whether it was true. After all, she did seem sad when she talked about her mom. My classmates knew that I was her friend, and they wanted me to ask her what had happened. I refused, but I can't say that I wasn't curious myself.

One day, I paid her an unexpected visit and found her hiding in the woods, hitting herself in the stomach and arms. It looked silly, but I could tell that it hurt. When she noticed me, she muttered, "I talked back to my mom. I made her mad." As usual, I didn't say anything about it. I never said that it wasn't her fault, or that she didn't have to hurt herself because of other people's cruelty. Perhaps I should have.

We didn't have many classes together in middle school, but we talked more than we had before, often while sitting on the bank of the river. We'd try to talk about normal things, like movies and classes, but those conversations would peter out, and she would eventually say what was really on her mind.

"Who do you think would go to my funeral if I died?" she asked once, out of the blue. The question startled me.

"Your mother would," I said. After a bit of awkward silence, I added, "I would."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. Of course. But you probably won't die for years. Hopefully not until you're really old."

"Yeah," she said. "Hopefully."

She stared into the distance, and I wondered whether that was really what she hoped for.

A/N: More to come later if people like this chapter.