Hi there. If you've already read some of my stories, you may be considering killing me right now. I know, it's been almost a year since I've updated anything. But I'm leaving I Don't Need A Knight In Shining Armour until I've at least updated a few more chapters of My Heart's Desire…the only issue is that I am having complete writers block with that one at the moment. If anyone has any ideas on what I can do with that story, they would be greatly appreciated!
Anyway, I posted this to reassure you all that I'm not dead, and because I really wanted to try out a story in this kind of style with an angsty feel. This story is a songfic based on the English translation of the song 'Bad Apple' by Touhou. If you understand Japanese or you just love Pokemon Special, you'll like this video: /watch?v=YGaVOJm8B1Y&feature=channel
That one has the lyrics in Japanese, but if you want the video I used for this fic, it's here: /watch?v=DLPERFN9c-M
So, onto the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.
WARNING: This story may make no sense to you whatsoever. It is about an OC of mine that has not appeared anywhere on any site before, and no names are mentioned in this fic at all. It's only in the Pokémon category because it was an OC I thought of to go in the Pokémon world, and because of one mention of Pokéballs. So, if at any point you get seriously confused and/or bored, feel free to tell me in a review that it made no sense and never come back to this fic ever again. I won't be offended, I didn't write this to make sense, I wrote it to be mysterious and angsty. Anyway, have fun reading!
She stood, unmoving, out on the bridge that looked out over the inky darkness of the river. Two hands rested, shaking slightly, on the stone of the structure. Deep, sorrowful brown eyes gazed into the black water, their owner's grief reflected within them. She had been standing there for some time now, simply thinking.
The date, along with the agony, swirled in her mind. It had been doing so for a while, mocking her current mournful state. Images of the events that had occurred on this day so many years before flashed through her head, torturing her heart. That nightmare, which had attacked her sleep for fourteen years, was now haunting her waking hours on this day.
This day, when she went to the cemetery.
Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of fury within her. Not an unusual phenomenon, at all, let alone on this day. The familiar questions ached inside of her. How dare he? How could he? Why…? Her heart stung, knowing that she had no answers, that she still had no answers. Her hands clenched into fists on the bridge, and when her eyes opened again, they were crimson. Flames engulfed her right hand as she brought it to her chest, before they spiralled away as she spun her wrist. To think that it was this gift that caused everything.
Ever on and on I continue circling,
With nothing but my hate in a carousel of agony.
Sighing, she brought her hand back down and the fire stopped dancing around her. She was forgetting who she was, who was watching her. What good would it do to flaunt the gift now, of all times? Lifting herself up, she sat on the edge of the bridge and stared straight down into the water. From the light of the moon she could see her own reflection gazing back at her. Scarlett eyes beginning to fade back to brown, indescribable agony hidden beneath the glassy mask of indifference within them. Curly, brown hair framing her face, bangs held back from her right eye with clips, yet still concealing the right-hand side of her face. Pink lips parted slightly as her breath clouded out of them, the edges turned downwards to complete the look of pain and suffering.
And, as she studied her expression properly for the first time that day, she realised that nothing had changed at all. She was simply kidding herself that she was getting over it, that she was feeling the pain less and less as each year passed.
It was clear, as she looked at herself, that the pain had not subsided even slightly over fourteen years. It was clear that she would never truly be able to escape it, that she would only ever be capable of pushing it to the back of her mind for a while before it returned and engulfed her once again. It was clear that she would never be able to break out of the endless cycle of her pain.
Till slowly I forget and my heart starts vanishing,
And suddenly I see that I can't break free.
She jumped back onto the bridge itself and looked to her left, towards the west side of the town and its colossal communication tower. Knowing that it would be her final destination that night, she made her way off the bridge and into the midst of the town. Lost in her thoughts of endless agony, she watched her feet as they stepped on every crack in the pavement. She wasn't a particularly superstitious girl, and she didn't care at all about the bad luck she could receive. My life is full of bad luck. It couldn't possibly get any worse. She looked up, and in front of her seemed to be nothing but a never-ending night. Her only company was her reminiscent thoughts and sadness.
She jolted to a halt as a thought crashed to the surface, a memory that, to her surprise, was pleasant. One of her fondest reminders. And yet, while it should have brought a smile to her face, it only served to make the ache in her chest intensify. Those moments would never come again. She would never feel that way again.
I'm slipping through the cracks of a dark eternity,
With nothing but my pain and the paralysing agony.
Shaking herself away from the thought, she continued on her way. These memories... they made her who she was. She would be nothing without them, she knew. Her mind told her to be grateful that she could still relive the moments in her memory, but her heart told her that it hurt too much to bear thinking about.
But still, the pain she lived defined her life, shaped her personality. With every day she had to deal with it, her mind matured. People grow into themselves based on their surroundings, their background. She was no different. The agony told her what she needed to know, who she was, who she used to be. It never let her forget.
And despite it all, she was unsure. While there was always the comfort that her path had already been chosen, there was still the unknown way in which she would walk it. And what exactly was waiting at the end of her path? Where and when would her path end? Would she meet the same end they had? Different questions bubbled to the surface at different times on this day. One by one, the thoughts and feelings she kept back for 364 days a year fought their way to the fore, shrouding her mind with doubt and sorrow.
Was this part of the reason why she was trapped in that cycle?
Yet another question she would never know the answer to.
To tell me who I am, who I was,
Uncertainty enveloping my mind,
Till I can't break free.
The town seemed so deserted at that moment. It matched her current mood. And although she could clearly see the lights on behind the closed curtains, and she could clearly see-through the gaps-that some people were laughing, smiling, or watching TV with their family, she couldn't hear a thing, not a laugh, not a word. When she closed her eyes, she was in a ghost town.
Maybe it was all part of the nightmare. Maybe it was part of a dream. Who was she to say? Her reality was so distorted, no one could tell what was real and what was nothing more than an illusion. She wished she possessed the power to find out, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to.
She laughed bitterly, and the sound echoed ominously through the silence. What difference would it make? Deep down inside, she knew exactly what was real and what wasn't, but still, what would change if she brought it to the surface and said it out loud? It would mean nothing if she told anyone else about her feelings on the subject. She had tried to address it with her brother figure, the only one she truly opened up to, but found that she couldn't. He didn't possess any more power than she did, he wouldn't be able to change anything, so why burden him with her confusing feelings on reality and dreams?
And maybe it's a dream; maybe nothing else is real,
But it wouldn't mean a thing if I told you how I feel.
She realised that she'd stopped again as she pondered the thin line between illusion and reality. Shaking her head, she continued walking. She would be late at the rate she was going. She'd never been late, that single moment when the clock reached the exact minute was so precious to her that she was always in position. Always.
Suddenly exhausted, she allowed her eyes to droop, though she didn't stop walking. It was taxing, having to deal with such a rush of emotion and thought in such a short space of time. The rush only seemed to increase with each year, as she discovered more about herself and thought of more questions to ponder upon. She idly wondered if it would change when she fulfilled the promise she made to herself, and then remembered that she may not live that long.
Exhaling shakily, she looked at the velvet night sky and felt an odd sort of longing. How simple would it be if she could just live in a permanent night? Never having to face the world, never having to fake an easy-going happiness? She could just live her life absorbed in her memories and her thoughts, and she would never have to hide how she felt.
So I'm tired of all the pain, of the misery inside,
And I wish that I could live feeling nothing but the night.
So many people over the years had tried to control her. Some were only doing it with the best intentions; others were set on trying to hurt her. Everywhere she went; there'd be someone who wouldn't stop speaking to her, trying to tell her what she should to say to those around her, to her friends, to her enemies, to herself. They'd try to chart a path for her, set it in stone. She paid little to no attention to those people. What would they know of her life? What could they possibly know of her path?
She didn't care if they were offended when she ignored their advice. She didn't care what they said about her behind her back. They had every right to formulate their own opinions of her. As she'd learnt from a young age, you aren't going to like everyone in the world, and not everyone will like you. She didn't see the point in wasting time dwelling over the petty opinions people formed when they didn't know the half of her story. Her heart was steeled to outsiders; it was not affected by harsh words or actions. For once, there was some good that had come from her past.
You can tell me what to say, you can tell me where to go,
But I doubt that I would care, and my heart would never know.
She liked to think that, despite the fact that her final destination in life had already been decided, she could take whichever route she so desired to get there. She liked to think that she reached several crossroads in her life, allowing her to make her own choices and take back some control over her life. But then, she also knew that every choice she made at every crossroad was final, there was no backtracking and changing what she'd done. Luckily, she knew that she wasn't alone in making her decisions. While she often felt isolated and alone, that wasn't the case and she was well aware of that fact. She did have loyal people beside her, following her down every path she chose with encouraging smiles on their faces. It made her heart ache to think that they trusted her so blindly, a girl who was so different to them, so messed up. She didn't know whether to be flattered when she paid close attention to them and noticed that they followed her decision like puppies, or to shout and scream at them to stop being stupid and make their own decisions.
But then again, maybe they had made their decision. Maybe their decision was to follow her and take care of her.
A simple theory and it changed her whole perspective. It never stayed the same for long.
If I make another move there'll be no more turning back,
Because everything will change and it all will fade to black.
Her eyes found the moon and the stars again. She was so torn. She wanted this day to end; she was tired of the pain burning inside, of the thoughts plaguing her mind. But on the other hand, she never wanted to see the sun rise again. On this single day in the year, she felt closest to those she had lost. The veil was so thin between the living and the dead, and it was so easy to fall from the side of life to the side of death. That much she was sure of. That much she had witnessed.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she forced them back. Not yet. She brought a hand to her eyes and rubbed them fiercely. Would she even be strong enough to survive the night? It seemed to get increasingly difficult to move her legs to take her back to her friends once she was finished with her ritual. Would this be the year where she couldn't take it anymore? Would this be the year where she finally decided to let go of her will?
Did she even want to return? She knew that they all appreciated what she did, that they respected it and thought that it was perfectly reasonable. But what about the rest of the world? Would everyone else be as accepting? Would society want to respect her? Did she truly belong here? She wasn't sure if she would find her place by going on her journey. Was there a place for someone like her, someone broken and tortured? If everyone knew her story, would they still treat her in the same way? Or was she simply destined to forever be an outsider?
Will tomorrow ever come? Will I make it through the night?
Will there ever be a place for the broken in the light?
She placed a hand over her chest. She was hurt, she was sad, but she no longer knew what for. Was it from the mourning or from something else entirely? The longer she remained alone in the night, the more reasons she found to explain her pain, her hatred.
There were also more questions about her future. When she let all logic go and her emotions run free, she couldn't tell if she was at another crossroad or not. Should she remain where she was? Should she pack up her things and get out of the place as soon as she could? Should she stay with her friends, or continue onwards alone? She never knew how to answer herself, or if they were questions that needed answering. She could never tell, in the cold night of her misery, whether she was asking herself those questions because she needed to or because she could. Did she ever know what she was doing? Was she only kidding herself when she told herself that she was in control? Was she just a puppet, a confused shell of a girl trying to find her way through life?
She hoped, for their sakes, that it wasn't true.
Am I hurting? Am I sad? Should I stay or should I go?
I've forgotten how to tell, did I ever even know?
For their sakes…that's right. Everything was for their sakes. She knew that she had to continue onwards. But could she bring herself to do so? Would she always be able to bring herself to do so? At times, she hated them. She did everything within her power to keep it together, to help the world, to help herself, to help them. And they never…they could never…
The rather loud sound of a family laughing together finally penetrated her ears. She snapped her gaze towards the noise, and saw through a window the angelic sight of two parents and their children, a son and a daughter, sharing in harmonious amusement. She almost smiled as she watched them, trying to sympathise with the situation, until she came to the realisation that she couldn't. She didn't understand what was going on, and it was more than just the fact that she missed the joke. Her eyes burned with unshed tears again. Almost all of the people she saw lived a life that she could never understand. She could watch and she could ask, but she would never really know what it was like to be in their position. She'd had that chance taken from her many years ago.
Can I take another step? I've done everything I can,
All the people that I see I will never understand.
Tearing her eyes away from the scene, she turned her gaze to the window of the store she was currently standing in front of. For the second time that night, she focused on her reflection, but it was not to look at her expression this time. With trembling fingers, she lifted her right hand to the hair that hid the right-hand side of her face, and brushed the hair away from the skin.
Her breath caught as her eyes fell on the mark she kept concealed from everyone else. All the way from her temple to her jaw was a jagged scar that completely dominated her appearance. She told people that her most powerful feature were her eyes, but it was really this scar that drew the gaze of most people. As a child, the scar had been completely visible to everyone. But she found herself being shunned by quite a few of the other children. Some were scared of the mark; others thought that it carried bad luck. Whatever their opinion, they began to avoid her, whisper about her. She was little more than six at the time, and it hurt her. It also angered her. How dare those people judge her just because of a scar on her face? But she soon learnt that people would forever be avoiding her if she kept it in plain sight. She grew out her hair, her bangs, in order to hide the mark, hide her past. Only those she completely trusted would have the privilege to see what was hidden beneath her brown locks.
She released her grip on her hair and it fell back into place, hiding the scar. It changed her whole appearance, made her seem more approachable, normal. She clenched a fist as she realised that she spent most of her time finding ways to change, to fit in more with those around her, to be accepted. She was just a vulnerable girl underneath her tough mask. She only wanted love and acceptance. If she could find a way to change herself completely, she knew that nothing would ever be the same for her again. She didn't know if it would turn out to be a good change or a bad one.
If I find a way to change, if I step into the light,
Then I'll never be the same and it all will fade to white.
Glancing at her watch, her heart leapt to her throat when she noticed that the time was inching steadily nearer to that exact minute. In fact, it was almost at the point when the whole ordeal had begun. At this moment, exactly fourteen years ago, he was probably preparing himself to ruin her happiness.
She forced herself to start walking forwards, and her steps began to resemble a brisk march. Her eyebrows furrowed as her mind began to spin. Hatred coursed through her body, making her nerves tingle. The thought of what sadistic ideas must have been going through his head all those years ago made her blood burn with anger. She gritted her teeth as she let herself be swept away by hatred and fury for a moment, when there was no one around who she may inadvertently take it out on.
Ever on and on I continue circling,
With nothing but my hate in a carousel of agony.
Taking a deep breath, she gradually began to calm herself down and ease some of the tension out of her body. Her breathing began to return to its normal pace and she slowed her steps to a more casual stroll. She couldn't let herself lose control, not here, not now. If her brother was here, he'd tell her that he wasn't worth it, that they would want her to be the better person and overcome the anger.
She would do the right thing. She would make them proud of her. Nodding, she brought her left arm out in front of her body and gazed down at the bracelet that rested on her wrist. It was a beautiful silver thing, decorated with hearts, musical notes and Pokéballs. It was one of her most precious memoires, and she'd kept it with her for years. She never took it off. Inhaling, she brought her left hand up to her neck and pulled a necklace out, resting the decoration in her palm. It was a simple golden heart with a tiny flame embellishing the centre. To think that such a trinket was a family legacy. To think that it held so much power. She gazed down at the necklace for a moment longer than necessary, just memorising the look of it in her palm. Then she dropped it back inside her shirt, hiding another part of her from the world.
She stopped abruptly when she realised where she'd walked to. Her route had taken her to the prison, and from where she was standing she was staring right through the barred window of a prisoner, watching him sleep on his stone bed. She chuckled sourly when she realised how ironic it was, she was standing out here, safe and free, and yet she felt more imprisoned than he did. He was only kept prisoner by bars and concrete, she was a prisoner to her own heart, unable to escape.
Till slowly I forget and my heart starts vanishing,
And suddenly I see that I can't break free.
She crouched down at the bars, clutching them tightly as she observed his prison. The walls were cracked, the plain room dull and dark. She watched the man stir in his sleep, and wondered if it made his day simply to see the light of day coming in through this small gap. She sighed as she rested her forehead on one of the bars. At least he got the reassurance that the light would come in consistently from this gap. She had no idea where the light could be found within her own heart, her own mind, and even when she did find light, she had no idea if the light would ever be in that same place again.
How much longer would she have to remain a prisoner to her pain?
I'm slipping through the cracks of a dark eternity,
With nothing but my pain and the paralysing agony.
She straightened up, turning her back on the prisoner, and looked towards her final destination for the night, the communication tower. She suddenly felt an uncharacteristic nervousness overcome her mind. Was she ready to do this, had she had enough time to prepare herself, collect her thoughts? It meant so much to her, it couldn't be ruined. With her legs following the lead of her fingers and beginning to tremble, she began to take slow, deliberate steps, turning everything over in her mind, the pain, the anger, the questions.
What was she intending to tell them this year? What did she feel that they needed to know?
There was so much to say, but what was the right thing?
To tell me who I am, who I was,
Uncertainty enveloping my mind,
Till I can't break free.
She allowed her mind to flicker back over the last year, thinking on all of the events that had transpired, trying to separate the dreams from the reality. Her adoptive brother's face jumped to the front of her mind, making her ponder on the words he'd said to her before she left.
"You take your time, okay? I'll be right here waiting for when you come back. You'll know what to say when the time comes, you always do."
For the first time that day, she smiled. She loved him dearly, that much was certain. He knew her like no other, sometimes better than she knew herself. And he knew just what to say to her to make her feel better, to restore her confidence. She was extremely grateful that she had someone like him in her life. She was happy to say that they had grown closer over the last year, now they were almost like twins. But still, that wasn't the right thing to say. He had faith in her; he knew that she would figure something out, that she'd get a grip on herself in time. She vowed that she would never let him down after he'd done so much for her, and she wasn't about to break that promise now. He was the one person she didn't need to say anything to. It made no difference whether she told him her feelings or not. He knew them anyway.
And maybe it's a dream; maybe nothing else is real,
But it wouldn't mean a thing if I told you how I feel.
Smile fading, she considered the issue at hand. So much to say, so little time. What did they need to hear? What did she need them to hear? Would this be a year for a long heartfelt message, or something simpler? Did she feel that they needed to know about her inner agony, or did she want to keep that part to herself?
She bit her lip and looked at the top of the tower. When did this become so difficult? When she'd first begun this tradition, when she was much younger, it was so much easier for her to think of what to say. She wasn't known by others for being quiet or unable to speak her mind. Quite the opposite. So why was it now, when she needed the words, that she couldn't think of what to say?
And yet again, she found herself wishing that the night would go on forever.
Skimming through the thoughts she'd tortured herself with that evening, she realised that there was so much to say because she was older now, more knowledgeable. She understood more about her own feelings, come to more realisations about why things were the way they were.
So maybe, to complement all of her overwhelming thoughts…something simple would do.
So I'm tired of all the pain, of the misery inside,
And I wish that I could live feeling nothing but the night.
Walking over to a bench, she took a deep breath and sat down, fishing out the pen and paper. She knew that she'd found her words again, and now that she had, now that it was coming so unbearably close to that moment, she found herself feeling vaguely choked up. There was a lump in her throat that she struggled to dislodge and she focused intently on her writing as she wrote out what she so desperately needed them to know.
It was a touching sentiment, and she briefly wondered why she had never written something so simple in the past. She was sure that they would be content with just this simple message, not always needing something as long as the letter she'd written the first time she ever did this ritual. She caught herself smiling slightly again as she thought back to her younger self, so naïve and innocent, broken yes, but still just a clueless child.
And yet, that clueless child had thought of this…
Shaking her head and pocketing the pen and paper, she faced the communication tower and lifted her chin up.
She was ready.
You can tell me what to say, you can tell me where to go,
But I doubt that I would care, and my heart would never know.
One foot in front of the other, one at a time, she began to make her way to the door at the very bottom of the tower. Another glance at her watch told her that it was very nearly time. All she had to do was be strong enough to make the ascent to the top and carry out her ritual. Her heart began to hammer inside her chest, increasing her nervousness. The whole walk, from the moment she'd turned away from the water underneath the bridge to now, had been leading to this. Everywhere she'd been was simply where her subconscious wanted her to be, to make her think, to make her feel. To open up her heart and show her what she wanted to say.
And now it was time to let them hear.
As she came to a stop in front of the door, she took one last deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed on the door with one shaking hand.
If I make another move there'll be no more turning back,
Because everything will change and it all will fade to black.
She pushed open the slightly stiff door that led to the open air at the very top of the communication tower, where all of the aerials and signal devices were situated. She stepped out and the door swung shut behind her, but she ignored it as she studied the railings directly in front of her. It was the perfect place, at the perfect time. She had everything ready, she just needed to put herself into position.
But she found herself unable to move. After she'd come so far, now was the point in which she felt the most emotional. It was as if the veil between the living and the dead had been pulled back for a moment, and she felt so indescribably close to them. Her heart felt as though it had been pulled out of her chest, her feelings suddenly true and right at the surface, giving herself and the world a glimpse at who she truly was. She could hardly bring herself to take another step, knowing that if she did without giving herself a proper chance to get a grip on herself, she would fall apart right there and then.
And that just wouldn't do.
If I make another move, if I take another step,
Then it all would fall apart there'd be nothing of me left.
Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she told herself to be strong for them and take one of those all important steps towards the railings. When she finally did manage to lift one foot, agonisingly slowly, and put it back down in front of her, she was startled to discover that her cheeks were now wet. The tears that she'd been keeping back all night were finally able to be shed, a tribute to the misery and pain she'd been going through. They were falling freely now, because she was only minutes away from the moment she's been building towards for a long time now.
The wind blew fiercely, blowing her hair around her and sending some of her tears sideways. She took a few more tentative steps forwards, feeling that aching hole in her chest getting bigger as she got closer to the railings, to the moment when she would let them know how she felt. She found herself questioning her heart once again, wondering if there would ever be a way for her to heal herself, to take away the hatred and the pain that tainted her heart all the time. She wanted to be the angel everyone thought she was.
If I'm crying in the wind, if I'm crying in the night,
Will there ever be a way? Will my heart return to white?
As she took the last few steps and reached the railing, she gazed out over the town, a tiny blur of sparkling lights. There was so much happiness down there, and she found herself wishing that she could be a part of it. She lifted one leg and placed it onto the railing, the other one following suit shortly afterwards. She found herself standing precariously on the railings of the tower, but she was not afraid. No, this was part of the ritual. She knew that they would protect her.
Remind me that you'll always take care of me, she thought, closing her eyes. Please tell me where I am. Am I really a prisoner? Am I locked away, or am I really home? She exhaled shakily. They had the answers, she knew it. They knew who she was; they would take her out of her darkness. She only had to open herself up to them fully…she only had to show faith and they would end her misery and fill her life with light for another year.
They never disappointed her. I believe in you. I know that you'll show me the way.
Can you tell me who you are? Can you tell me where I am?
I've forgotten how to see, I've forgotten if I can.
She let the last tears fall from her eyes as she opened them again, and she felt something touch her heart, making her feel loved and wanted. Her hand reached into her pocket and pulled out the piece of paper, unfolding it and clutching it tightly as she waited with bated breath.
This was the moment she'd been waiting for.
If I open up my eyes, there'd be no more going back.
Her watch let out a single beep, and she released her grip on the paper she'd been clinging to for dear life, watching as it floated away through the night, carried by the wind. It would reach them, she was sure. Closing her eyes, she let darkness shroud her vision as she pictured the message on the paper.
"I love you, Mom, Dad. I'll always love you."
Cause I'd throw it all away and it all would fade to black.
XXX
Okay, if you're still reading at this point then I sincerely congratulate you for the sheer willpower you have for sticking with this to the end. But I'll bet that it made absolutely no sense to you.
So, my proposal is this: if you want to know more about this OC of mine, her past, her background, her relationships with the anime characters (because yes, she does have relationships with the anime characters), then either leave me a review saying so or PM me. If any of you have any theories you think you gathered from this fic, for example a piece of this girl's past, or the anime character who features as her brother figure, then feel free to leave those in a review or PM me. And also, if you do leave a review, can you please tell me if you thought it was tragic and angsty enough? Cause that was what I was going for.
On the other hand, you can completely ignore this fic and leave now and forget you ever read it. I don't mind either way.
Till I finally get my act together and start updating my other fics,
XBlazingVampire5X