Authors Notes: Well, I dont know whats up with the formatting, but eh! I tried.
This is from listening to Unwritten Laws s the Mourning CD endlessly. Damn I love that CD. Check it out, every track is awesomeness.
AWESOMENESS!
This is ...a prequel to a fic Ill be doing.
BAH! TORTURE YOU THE MIKO DOES!
Miko had a 44 oz Red Mountain Dew TODAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
WOOT WOOT!
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Save Me
By Silver Miko
Had a bad day, don't talk to me,
gonna ride this out,
My little black heart, breaks apart,
with your big mouth.
He woke up groaning at the golden light filtering through the tan-woven blinds, hitting his eyes with their obscene rays. Signaling another day, filled with the screaming memories always there, the lingering and vague reminder of a once normal life, and empty and cold feeling that filled him everyday.
He slipped out of the black sheets and looked around, grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor and sliding them off as he padded barefoot to the window and pulled up the blinds. Sunlight gleamed onto his blue-black hair, his cold blue eyes looking out at the city in the morning light.
It held no beauty for him.
Everything might as well have been grey and dull, for that was how everything felt. Nothing held significance, and yet he couldnt muster the gall to end the falseness of his life. To just end it all.
What was there to live for?
What was there to wake up to?
And I'm sick of my sickness
Don't touch me, you'll get this.
I'm useless, lazy, perverted,
and you hate me.
No one would ever care to reach out for him, to give a damn about such a scarred soul. Physical scars were ugly, marring him. The internal ones were worse. All he saw was blood sometimes, heard gunshots, smelled smoke.
Heard their last breaths.
Wished he had died with them.
It was so stupid, it was his fault they had gotten involved.
If only he hadnt owed that favored, taken that job...
He had thought hed cut all tied of his dark past, that he had started over...they all started over.
But it was only a short illusion.
That bastard Kanryuu, the drug dealer. He had seen Aoshi at the gym, had remembered him from Aoshis high school days when he had been the leader of a gang, had blackmailed him into working for him.
And now his friends were dead, and Kanryuu was in jail...still breathing.
And he was left to deal with damage.
Broken.
He had no desire to do anything, to work, to go out, to talk to anyone.
And so he went through life in motions.
Like a sleeper. You can't save me,
You can't change me,
Well I'm waiting for my wakeup call,
And everything, everything's my fault.
His boss had sent him to a psychiatrist, some woman named Takani, who was overrated. She tried analyzing, but found it easier to prescribe him pills. She couldnt get through his walls, couldnt break through the stony indifference.
And in frustration told him he might need to seek another shrink. She was a useless woman, she didnt know anything.
He wouldnt tell her anything, because she wouldnt understand it. Went to the doctor, and I asked her,
to make this stop. (whoa)
Got medication, a new addiction,
Fucking thanks a lot.
His boss suggested a leave of absence, and Aoshi decided to just quit. He had enough money to live comfortably, he didnt need the work. Didnt need the reminders. He just wanted the solitude of his apartment, no one around. No one to look at him with pity or blame. No one to look at his fallen state. No one to make him feel shame.
Alone.
He would be alone.
He chose this.
A man with nothing to live for, but too cowardly to kill himself.
No honor left. I had to relapse, I'm bad at rehabs
It ruins everything. (whoa)
So point your finger, at the singer,
He's in the pharmacy.
He had briefly tried pills, tried to dull the pain, but it always came back. It was a constant boomerang action. He could never hold liquor, that was not an option. He looked on his coffee table, having gone into the living room, and saw the small white card.
It was the last thing Takani gave him.
A referral.
To another shrink.
He had scoffed at the card at first, but didnt toss it away. He looked at it again and found himself picking up the phone.
You can't save me,
You can't change me,
Well I'm waiting for my wake up call,
and everything's my fault.
He dialed, made an appointment, so simple.
It almost seemed like a sick insult, that it was so easy.
It fixing him was that easy, he sure as hell had wasted time. No. Nothing was simple like that.
Did he even think he could be fixed?
Did he want to be fixed?
Something had to be better than this. Feeling sick all the time, feeling dead inside.
Maybe he did need help, real help.
Maybe it was time to wake up.
You can't save me,
You can't blame me,
Well I'm waiting here to take a fall,
and everything, and everything's my fault
Himura Kenshin-sensei.
Aoshi looked at the office before him and walked inside the lobby with his glasses blocking out the fluorescent light. As he walked towards the elevator a blur of black and blue whizzed past him and he turned slightly to see a long, trailing braid and a petite feminine figure rushing out the door.
He watched the figure go with mild interest and got into the elevator.
A step towards fixing himself.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
It makes no sense probably. But it eventually will.
Ja!