Prologue
It is said to live life to the fullest. To regret nothing along the journey we humans call life. And I did just that. I stole, I vandalized, I hi-jacked cars, played with the most poisonous animals known to man, jumped off of buildings, fought with criminals. Many people, (psychologists included) never figured out why and how my personality changed from the sweet little girl who was quiet and polite; to the daring, vulgar teenager I came to be. Some concluded that my transformation was just a stage that would pass overtime as I got older. Others concluded that since most knew of my parents, they thought I wanted attention, apparently I craved it, is what the tabloids read. But of course no one knew the main reason I've done all those acts, not even the psychologists my parents took me to. Of course they've tried everything under the sun to get me to open up and talk about "my feelings". To say what's on my mind, but honestly? How much do you think they really care about my feelings? To ease my mind from the supposed pain I must be going through. Their words not mine. They don't, all they see, when they see me, is a paycheck, one that pays very well. Of course they don't care, none of them really do, do they?
In a sense, the tabloids are right; I do crave attention, but not the attention they are referring to. I crave the attention any child wants, needs, that of their parents. My father was a renowned doctor, known for his skill. My mother was a successful lawyer, known for her famous cases. Her skill in making the innocent look guilty and the guilty get off scotch free. And then there was me. The daughter of the famous duo, who have put high expectations on. They expected me to be a prodigy in a sense. Expected me to be the obedient child, to be meek, to be polite, to be that of any high class child was supposed to act. I obeyed their wishes at first, excelling in every class that they put me through, from learning different languages, to getting a black belt in karate. But as I grew older, I realized that by putting me through so many classes it wasn't to make me more knowledgeable than the rest of my peers. No, it was to get me out of their hair. And once I realized that, well, I did everything I could to get a spark of attention from them, rather it is a look, a nod, anything would appease me. But all I got was; "not now Scarlett, I'm busy."
And so that's when my transformation happened. It started off small, with giving up on the classes, disobeying them at every turn, being impolite to those who came and went. But I didn't get one response, not one. So I upped my game a little, I started vandalizing and when that didn't work, I ended up stealing, from clothing to cars. I felt successful once I had gone to jail, because I knew that I would have to gain attention from them, because they had to get me out, and because it would look bad on our reputation. Alas, my smug look dropped when my nanny of 15 years came to bail me out. Throughout the drive back to our house, she lectured me on the rights and wrongs, but my attention wasn't on hers, it was on my failure at not getting the attention I wanted.
I was watching the news about a dreadful wreck when an epiphany hit me. That very night, I took one of the cars we owned and drove it into an incoming car driving on the other side of the road. Granted, I expected the pain to be brutal, so before I went I took something to help numb the pain. After the wreck, I was shipped to the nearest hospital. "The injuries were massive, it was a miracle she survived" was heard around the hospital, along with "Is she suicidal?" But all I cared about was if this act was enough to see if my parents cared, to see if they finally deliver the attention that I crave. But of course, the people I wanted the most, did not come, instead the nanny came. It's always the nanny. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
Afterwards I was in a daze, not knowing how I felt about my parents lack of affection, lack of attention, and lack of love. And so the person I am today was born. I became withdrawn, a loner in all of its rights, no friend to speak of, only followers, those who listen to and do everything I say. I was the person who lived life to the fullest not caring about the consequences.
I was nineteen when a show came on; it was called "A Thousand Ways to Die." Interested, I began watching the show, to the point where I knew the intro by heart. Because of the possibility of actually dying because of how ridiculous the deaths portrayed. I tried one of them. Of course I didn't heed the warning and I ended up dead.
I lived life to the fullest, at least I had thought at first. But in reality, my life never really began, not really, my life as Scarlett was just a stepping stool into the life I was supposed to be in.
The life of Haku Yuki's little sister.
Hello, my name is Hikari Yuki and this is my story.
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A/N: BAM! I know, I know. I know exactly what you're thinking, 'why on earth are you writing a story when you haven't finished the other one. I'm stuck. Like I know what I want to happen but I don't know how to write it on paper, er type in Microsoft word haha. But I will eventually get to it, in the meantime I'm gonna write on this and another one I'm gonna try ROCK ON!