Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. I don't own the English language, but I do own Japanese. Therefore, I own about six words in this story.
Author's Notes: I've been waiting to write an angst fic for a very very long time. So finally I write one about Hikari, who has historically been one of my least favorite characters. I don't hate her so much anymore, though, so I let her be somewhat understandable in this story instead of making all of the readers hate her. I hope this story is a bit of a tearjerker for you, I tried to write it so. Also, please have the courtesy and decency to review! I want to know if I write angst well at all. I'm not much of an angsty person.
You know you want to review. If you do, I promise to review one of your stories. Cross my heart.
With that said, please go on and enjoy the story.
Anata e Nogareru~Escape to You
by Miniberry*Aug. 10, 2003
You died for me.
You died so I could live.
Is that why I feel so terrible now, as I sit here with the razor poised gracefully at my wrist?
You stepped in front of that car. Where I should have been, you were. Your body, bruised and broken, lay mangled in the street. Your blood seeped into the pavement, mixed with my tears. I knew, before anyone told me, that you were gone. At that moment, I had lost everything. I was told that even unconscious as I was, I would not let go of your wrist, would not remove my head from your chest, until you were placed safely in the ambulance. Of course, you weren't truly safe. You were dead. No matter how sorry the driver was, no matter how many apologies he gave, it wouldn't bring you back. It should have been me. It should have been me.
It wasn't the first time I have failed you. I've always been too weak for you. For anyone. You don't know how embarrassing it is to constantly be holding everyone back. I was always the one who was coddled, doted on, and protected. As much as I loved all the people who worked so hard to take care of me, I felt so inferior! And now I have caused one of those people, the most important of those people, to lose their life. This is the kind of thing I have been fearing my whole life, the one thing I knew I could never deal with. And now that it has happened, I realize how unprepared I truly am.
I could always count on your guidance. Whatever happened to me, you were always there to pick up the pieces. Now where are you? Not here, I know that. I don't mean to be angry, dear, but in this trying time, why couldn't you be here for me, instead of being the root of my troubles? Oh....I'm so sorry...I can't help myself. I'm angrier now than I ever have been before, and I don't know what to do.
I want to die. Without you there is nothing left for me. I know it's so selfish, but I've had enough! I feel so guilty...you died so I could live, and I'm throwing that gift away. But every time I tell myself that, it seems as if I'm just making excuses, that I'm taking the coward's way out yet again. Not this time. I'm braver than anyone knows. I'm going to go through with this, and show everyone how strong I really am.
A small voice...conscience?...within me cries out as I pull the blade down my left arm with a swift, deliberate stroke and watch, with a certain degree of satisfaction, the beautiful red liquid that bubbles slowly out. As the surrounding skin turns from pale white to a dark maroon, I panic for a moment, unsure that I am doing the right thing. I pause to reassure myself and, while doing so, a memory flashes through my mind.
I was younger, but not by much. My heart had been broken for the first time, although, as I know now, not the last. I sat on a swing, crying silent tears for the blond boy walking slowly away, shoulders slumped and looking defeated. I don't think he had felt much better about rejecting me than I had. You came to me and sat beside me, gave me a hug and comforted me. Whispered secrets in my ear that made me feel better, told me you would always love me, and soon you made me laugh. It eased the pain more effectively than anything else could have. I thought I could never feel more pain than the pain I felt that day. But you proved me wrong...I hurt now more than any human being deserves. This is infinitely worse. And you brought this upon me...how could you? How could you do this? Why couldn't you just let me die in front of that car?!
But of course you couldn't, you selfish creature. You knew that you would hurt just like me if you had let me die like you should have. You wanted to be absolved of all pain, and you switched our places. Now you feel nothing, while I suffer. Why? You're supposed to protect me, for goodness' sake! Why did you have to go and do that? Why couldn't you have just let me die?
I'm being foolish now, I'm sorry. I don't know how I could be so cruel. Of course you didn't mean to cause me this pain. You did what was best for me. But I can't help thinking that this was somehow my fault, and I feel so guilty. If I had only waited a few more seconds to step into that street, we would have seen that car speed around the corner. None of this would have happened, and you would still be alive. We would probably be at an ice cream shop right now, you offering to pay for me like you always did, the others laughing and teasing you about being a big softie...you never minded it as much as you claimed you did, did you? I think you enjoyed being able to do things for me. I only wish I could have had more of a chance to show you how much I appreciated and loved you...why did this have to happen?
My blind anger fueled even more at this thought, I ripped furiously at my skin with the razor...again and again and again...the towel underneath me was stained red, the color slowly covering up more and more of the soft white cloth...but I barely noticed. All I noticed was that every time I cut myself, the pain in my arms blocked out the greater pain I felt in my heart. This is why I chose not to do it underwater in a bathtub. I hear you don't feel anything that way...and that's not what I wanted. I don't know when it began, but a while back I became somewhat addicted to physical pain. At first it scared me, but I gradually became used to it. Now I'm glad for this escape.
Suddenly, I worry what okaasan and otousan will think, finding their second child dead so soon after this tragedy. They'll probably feel even worse than I do. It may be selfish, but I just want this pain gone. They have each other, but I have lost my support. It died with you. I want to be with you again! I can't handle this world without you!
What would you do in my position? Would you be here, sitting on the bathroom floor opening your veins? Or would you be fighting for your life, trying to give support to the others around you? I know what you'd do...you'd get over it and help others do the same. If you even for a moment thought of doing what I'm doing, you'd stop yourself and think of your parents, your friends...and me. You'd know that I wouldn't want you slitting your wrists or doing anything like it. Maybe you'd kneel down with the razor blade for a second, just a second, but then you'd stop. You'd do the right thing. The right thing...
I can't even see my arms anymore for all the blood. I feebly reach for another towel so that the floor isn't soiled. As the world starts to blur before my eyes, I begin to have second thoughts. I wish someone were home to come in and stop me. I don't want to die anymore! As much as I miss you, I know that you gave your life so that mine could continue, and I can't waste this second chance. I call out weakly for someone to help me and stand up, fighting the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm me. I know I won't make it to the phone. I can't see it...I can't even see the chair leg in front of me that trips me onto the carpet. I regret what I've done, but regrets won't help me any more than they'll help you. The last thing I see, before I plunge into the darkness in pursuit of you, is the telephone. Life...unattainable, once again just a few feet out of reach. I love you, Taichi-oniisan, and soon we'll be together, like we always should be.
Revenge of Author: Well, did she die or not? I decided to leave it to your imagination whether someone found her in time, or whether she bled to death on her carpet. Heh. I'm an evil young lady. However, if you do want me to continue the story, please leave a review and say if you want Hikari-chan to live or die. I'm interested to hear what you have to say.
Very important: Suicide is bad. If you or someone you know has contemplated or attempted suicide, please, I'm begging you, call the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-SUICIDE or 1-800-784-2433. Thank you!
Somewhat less important: Review! Review! Review! Five seconds out of your life to let me know what I can improve, or, better yet, how awesome I am. Please! Review!
Love from
Mini
