Sigh I have decided to write a cutting fic. I may be completely out of my mind writing this, but I'm rather stubborn when I want to be, so bear with me.
Thank you for bother to get this far. Now, if you still want to, read the chapter.
Oh, and I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. I forgot to mention that in my last fic. Sorry.
A Sharp Little Friend
By SarcasticallyShy
It was raining. A lot. It pounded on the glass of the windows, drowned the streets outside, and muddied the sidewalks. The continuous patter of the rain droned on the walls, door, and windows. It never ceased, not once.
And I didn't mind that, I was busy anyway.
I turned back to what I was doing, holding my hand steady over my left arm. If I didn't make this cut clean, it would bleed too much. And if it bled too much, it would be so much harder to hide.
I drew the blade across my arm, leaving a thin red line in its wake. The pain was sharp and clear, making me hiss slightly. The blood pooled then slipped out of the cut and down my arm. I continued this pattern, cutting, watching, and cutting again.
It was amazing that such a simple and slightly paining action could be so relaxing. It's like shuffling a deck of cards to calm you down but so much better. The blood flowing out of me was like all of my pain and sadness slipped out along with it. I felt so elated, just doing this, so I kept going.
My arm was nothing but a mass of red dyed skin now, the blood having covered my arm completely. I would have kept going, but I heard the front door slam down stairs. I cursed silently and hurried to clean away the blood in the sink. Bakura was home.
Bakura had a habit of going to the bar at around eight and coming back from around midnight to three in the morning. So I spent those lonely hours in the bathroom, with a pocket knife my father had given me once.
I grabbed some gauze from the medicine cabinet and wrapped my left arm quickly, not wanting Bakura to see. He didn't know that I was cutting, and I wanted to keep it that way.
The thud of foot falls got louder as Bakura approached the bathroom. Although, his bed room was right next to the bathroom, so it was possible that he was going to his bed room to sleep.
Why is it I'm never right?
Bakura banged the door open just as I managed to pull my sleeve down over my arm. Bakura's clothes were ragged and dirty, his hair a bit ruffled, and his breath stunk of alcohol. He had been at the bar, and probably got into a fight.
"H-hello Bakura," I stuttered out, hiding my arms behind my back. Bakura noticed and narrowed his eyes. With one thin, white hand, Bakura gripped the upper part of my left arm. He pulled it out in front of us and pulled back the sleeve. He saw the messy bandages and I caught a faint glimmer of curiosity before it was hidden by his usual mask of impatience. Then he did something that made my heart stop.
He started to undo the bandages.
Scared I struggled against his hold, desperately trying to get free and run to my room. I needed to get out of here before he found out; before he found out about my nightly ritual. He can't know, he just can't!
Bakura growled dangerously, warning me to be obedient or else. When I didn't stop struggling, his hand flew and connected painfully with my cheek. I stopped moving, stunned by what he'd done. While I was still, Bakura pulled the bandages off. Bakura looked so surprised, I wondered for a moment if he was going to drop in a dead faint.
Scars. Scars, cuts, bleeding cuts. Everywhere. There was no place that hadn't been cut on my arm. And I knew it, but I was afraid of what Bakura would say. As abusive as he was, I didn't know how he'd react to me hurting myself. He had quite literally beaten into me that I was his, and no one else's. Did that mean I couldn't hurt myself?
Bakura was silent for a long moment, too long for my comfort. Although, I wouldn't have wanted him to find out one way or another. That problem kind of came up on its own anyway, now didn't it? God, I wish I could cut right now. . . .
"What are these?" growled out Bakura. I flinched. His voice was quiet, but that was only a bad thing. The quieter his voice, the more dangerous he was.
"J-just some cuts. Nothing to worry about B-bakura." I swallowed hard. Damn it! I shouldn't have stuttered. Yes, the well mannered Ryou just cursed, I get it, now, let's move on.
"Oh, really?" sneered Bakura. Shit, this isn't good. "So, you just happened to get cut so cleanly for no reason at all, is that it?"
"I never said for no reason. . ." I murmured inaudibly. Apparently, I was wrong.
"So what is this reason? What could be so important that you'd have to cut yourself without my permission, hm?" Bakura jeered.
I could feel hot tears prickle behind my eyes but I refused to let them fall. "Nothing very important, I can assure you," I mumbled out. It wasn't very good, but I was getting scared senseless right now, so straight and logical thought escaped me at the moment. Who could blame me? The demon standing in front of me had tortured me endlessly since I was eight; it wasn't like I was just going to act like we were best friends all of a sudden. I'm a cutter, not suicidal.
Bakura struck me across the face and then punched me in the stomach. I fell back, gasping for breath. I stumbled into the bathtub and fell in, hitting my head on the wall. I cried out in pain.
Bakura smirked down at me, like a man who'd just won himself a prize. "I wouldn't cut myself if I were you, Yadonushi. I'll be checking your arms every night, when I come home. Even if you're asleep, I'll wake you up and if I see any more scars I didn't make, I'll beat the hell out of you. Good night, Yadonushi." Bakura turned and left.
I sighed. Rubbing my head, I climbed out of the tub and stumbled to my room, trying hard not to make too much noise as I did so. Once in the safe confines of my room, I started to cry. "If only. . ." I cried, tears welling up and flowing down my face.
I cried myself to sleep that night, dreaming of something that I thought only my blood could get. Thank god for my sharp little friend. . . .
Yes! It took me all day just to finish this. That explains why it's a little choppy, only if you noticed. If you didn't, then just ignore the stupid writer at the computer!
Adios!