WELCOME! To WallofIllusion's second angst-with-chapters attempt. Don't ask about the first.

I chose a title pretty much at random so I could post this. Title is quite subject to change.


Choking

"Good morning, Malik," Isis greeted as she entered the dining room and saw her brother. She began making herself breakfast as she waited for an answer from Malik.

But no answer came.

Her eyes flicked over to Malik and quickly read his face. No, he wasn't looking sullen or sulky. Maybe he'd been thinking, and hadn't heard her…? "Good morning, Malik," Isis repeated, more loudly.

His eyes met hers and he nodded and smiled briefly, but that was all.

Isis pursed her lips. It wasn't at all crucial that Malik said "Good morning" to her, but for some reason the fact that he wouldn't worried Isis.

She turned towards the cupboards, then asked Malik, "Would you like me to make you something for breakfast?" He would have to say something now—Isis couldn't see any gestures he might make.

But he said nothing.

Isis resisted the urge to look over at him and cast her mind about for something to say. "You know," she began, "I was thinking of going into town today. Maybe I'll stop by the library." She didn't ask if Malik wanted to come; that question would be far too easy to answer with a nod or a shake of the head. It would be up to Malik to invite himself.

Isis waited. Why wasn't her brother responding? Normally he couldn't contain his excitement at the chance to go to the library.

When Malik didn't speak for almost a minute, Isis turned back to him. "Is there a reason you're not talking?" she asked, masking her concern.

Malik shrugged, averting his eyes.

"Look at me," Isis commanded. Malik did, and again Isis tried to read his face. But now there was little to read. His expression was completely blank, and his eyes seemed empty. It was the emptiness that worried Isis most of all; it convinced her that Malik's silence was neither spite nor anger.

"Why won't you say anything?" Isis inquired, her concern poorly hidden. "Is everything all right?"

Once again, Malik shrugged.

Isis's brows came together. She was really beginning to worry. "Malik, what is it?" When he shrugged yet again, Isis shook her head impatiently. "Don't just shrug at me! Say something!" she demanded.

Malik paused, then shook his head firmly, his gaze directed at the table.

"Malik!" Isis exclaimed, unconsciously raising her voice out of frustration.

"What's the matter, Isis-sama?" Rishid asked, entering the room and looking between the two younger Ishtars in curiosity.

"Malik won't talk," Isis said tersely. "He won't say anything…"

Rishid looked over at Malik for confirmation of Isis's statement. Obligingly, Malik nodded.

Rishid frowned with concern. "Is something wrong, Malik-sama?"

A shrug.

"Why won't you speak?" Rishid persisted.

Another shrug.

"If you won't tell us out loud, Malik-sama, will you at least write it down?"

Isis scanned the dining room for some paper and a pen. Finding what she was looking for, she presented them to Malik and stood next to him hopefully.

Malik picked up the pen and held it over the paper. But then he just stared at it. "Write something," Isis encouraged. But then she noticed what Malik was looking at—his hand was shaking wildly.

Malik stared at the hand for a little longer, watching it as if it weren't his own, and then let the pen drop. Ignoring his siblings' cries of protest, he stood and left the room.

Shocked, Isis tried to follow him, but Rishid stopped her.

"Let him go, Isis-sama," he said softly. "I think Malik-sama might need to be alone."

Isis sighed, knowing that Rishid was probably right. "Why won't he speak?" she asked. Suddenly weary, she sat down in the chair Malik had left. "Something must be wrong," she said heavily. "What can we do, Rishid?" She looked into her older brother's eyes, searching for an answer.

But there was none to be found. "I don't know, Isis-sama."


I'm sorry. There's just something that blocks my words, something that chokes me. Something I mustn't let out. So the only way is to stop talking, because no matter what I say it will come out. I'm sorry.

Malik looked over the explanation he had written for Rishid and Isis, the one he hadn't been able to give at breakfast. He shook his head. There was no way his siblings would understand it—it hardly even made sense to Malik…

But he wanted to give the note to them anyway, if only because of the apology it contained. He was sorry, sorry that he couldn't speak and sorry that he was worrying Isis and Rishid. But he knew it was more important to keep that choking feeling inside of him. It would only hurt others if he let it out.

Malik stood, planning to bring the paper to one of his siblings. But then his legs weakened and his knees buckled. Startled, he grabbed the chair for balance and slowly sat down in it again as his heart raced inside his chest.

It was useless—for some strange reason, Malik was terrified of letting Isis and Rishid know what he felt. The fear had struck him at breakfast, too, when Rishid had first suggested writing instead of talking. Malik's hand had been shaking so badly he could barely hold the pen. Had he actually managed to write something, it would have been illegible.

Malik considered leaving the note somewhere for his siblings to find, but even that idea was frightening. And so he found himself holding the paper over the torch in his room, watching a tongue of fire slowly lick it into ashy nothingness.


It was just about lunchtime when Isis made her way into Malik's room. "Malik?" she asked cautiously.

Malik looked up from his book and gave Isis a half-smile. Taking it as an invitation to enter, Isis went and sat on Malik's bed. Her brother looked at her questioningly, sensing that she had something to say.

"Malik…" she started. "I'm sorry I was so harsh at breakfast. I didn't mean to be so hard on you or scare you away."

Malik nodded and touched her hand softly, a symbol of his forgiveness.

"But, Malik…" Isis continued. "You know why I was that harsh, don't you?"

Malik tipped his head ever-so-slightly to the side.

"It's because I'm worried," Isis explained intensely. "Malik, there is something wrong, isn't there?"

Malik looked away, his eyes nervously darting all over the room before meeting Isis's again. Face taut, he gave a barely-perceptible nod.

Isis caught her breath and gazed sympathetically into her brother's face. "Then please, tell me what it is," she whispered. "Please. I want to help you, my dear little brother. But I can't do anything if you won't tell me what's wrong."

Malik lowered his eyes, looking remorseful, but said nothing.

"Please, Malik!" Isis cried. "Why won't you tell me even that? Are you angry with me, is that why you won't speak?"

Malik looked up again and shook his head vehemently, wide eyes adding emphasis to his denial.

"Then why? Malik…" He looked away again. "Please, say something," Isis begged. "Anything. You can tell me to shut up, or to go away, or something, but please, just speak…"

Malik took Isis's hands and held them, trying to comfort his sister. Then he met her eyes, and Isis saw helplessness in his gaze. Realizing something, she murmured, "So it's true, isn't it?" She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Malik, when I was talking to Rishid this morning, he said there was a chance that you… you really can't speak. That there's something blocking your throat. Is… is that it?"

Immediately, Malik looked down. His breathing sped up and Isis noticed with alarm that his hands, still holding hers, were shaking uncontrollably. "Don't be scared, Malik," Isis encouraged, squeezing his hands slightly. "You can tell me. You can tell me anything. Is that how you feel? Like something's blocking your words?"

Still looking down, Malik gave a jerky but clear nod. Then he hunched over, hiding his face. Now crying with pity for her brother, Isis put her arms around him and pulled him close, so close that she could feel the wild, terrified beating of his heart.


Yes...

So! Reviews are much appreciated. I've already written the next few chapters, but I might choose to incorporate good suggestions...

But if you do review...please humor me and keep in mind that I think of "Marik" as the dub character, whom I hope to burn alive someday. I wrote about Malik. Please say Malik. Please forgive my obsessive insanity.

I'll put my straightjacket back on now...