Hey everyone! Ray Yoshida, the main character in this fic, is an OC of mine. She is s Soul Eater OC, hence the "weapon" and 'Meister" references. She is 100% my OC, and only a couple of my friends have used her in a few romance one-shots. WARNING! This fanfiction contains a few cuss words and self harm.

Anywho, Ray is going to be in a big OC Soul Eater fanfiction written by my friend eventually, and I'll post a link when she posts it! Thanks for reading, enjoy the fic!

A baby girl; a small, beautiful baby girl. My mother was going to have a baby; I was going to have a sister. I should be overjoyed, right? A baby sister would be a great thing to have, right?

I had just turned seven at the time. The way my father had told me my mother was pregnant was, "Hey, Rat," and yes, he called me "Rat", "Your mommy is going to have a baby girl, and she's going to be the new YOU!"

It sounds awful, right? Wrong. I deserved it. I was the only weapon in a family of powerful meisters, and a gun, too. If I'd had been a scythe or some sort of blade, I would be able to fight for myself. I needed a meister to wield me, and that was considered a disgraceful disaster for my family.

When my father had told me of my pregnant mother, and how that little girl would be considered ME, my heart snapped. It took all the hope I had to believe they loved me, even if it was just a little. That sweet little fantasy was now dust. My worst fear was being realized; I was getting replaced.

The day finally came; nine agonizing months of torture from my father and two older brothers, Kyle and Michael. My father seemed to take joy in rubbing that little girl's birth in my face. All if that led up to this, the climax. My father and brothers were in the room with my mother with the doctor during the labor. Michael kicked me out of the room; I didn't really want to watch anyway. Eventually, after a few hours of my mother yelling and everyone trying to calm her down, I heard a little baby cry.

My father busted out of the room, apparently overjoyed.

"A daughter! I finally have a daughter!" He yelled happily. He glanced over to me, sitting next to the door on the ground. His smile turned into a frown and his eyebrows creased together in disgust.

"Who the hell are you?!"

I felt my eyes start burning from the tears that had started to form, while he sort of shrugged and strutted proudly back into the room. I stood up and walked out of our main-house. A few of my distant family members happened to be outside or on the porches of their small houses. They did what they always did when they saw me.

"There she is again..."

"Ew, it's her."

"Are you sure she's actually RELATED to us?!"

"She'll never be part of the Yoshida family."

When I finally made it out of the gates, I started to run. I ran into the dark forest, barely seeing where I was going through all my tears. I felt sharp brush claw at my legs and body as I struggled to continue running. I tripped over roots and stones, adding even more black and blue marks on by body. All those words were running through my mind.

"You're a disgrace to the Yoshida family."

"Who the hell are you?"

"She's the new YOU!"

I could barely comprehend everything I was feeling. It's true...They're right... I'm useless... pathetic... a disgrace. Why was I even born?! The cuts from the sharp bushes were bleeding and stinging, but I ignored all of those things. I ran and ran until I collapsed from exhaustion onto the soft forest floor. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the damp, cool moss.

The world would be better without ME!

I screamed into the trees and moss. All of these thoughts made me sob harder. I felt so alone, so hated, so lost. My young mind couldn't handle any of this. 'Why am I so weak? Why did I have to be born a WEAPON?!'

I was utterly alone. I wanted more than anything... To just die.

My eyelids fluttered, I was being carried back to the main-house by a muscular man. My mind was so off I couldn't see who it was. He set me not-so-gently on a couch in the main-house and he yelled at me:

"Ray! Wake up! Dumb shit I had to go, like, five miles to find you!"

It was Kyle, my eldest brother. Father always made him do his dirty work for him if it involved me. I opened my eyes all the way and looked at his angry green eyes glaring down at me.

"But... Why didn't you leave me to... to die?" I managed to croak.

He rolled his eyes, then squatted down by me.

"Y'know, I was actually a little worried about you, Ray..."

I blinked, "You were... w-worried..? But... I thought you... Hated me."

He looked at me with a sincere look on his face.

"I don't HATE you... Father just doesn't want us to like you... I don't know. He tells us... horrible things... But I don't hate you." His expression softened a bit.

I would've started crying, but my eyes were dry. I suppose it was because I'd cried them all out earlier. I started to cry-hiccup, though.

"Y-you don't hate m-me..?"

He smiled softly. "Of course not, Ray. You are my sister, after all. And however I can, I'll make you believe that. But..." He frowned, "When father's around... I might have to say.. certain things.. So, I apologize in advance."

I nodded, still hiccupping.

About a week later, after father smacked my head against the sink for running away, Kyle used all of his free time away from Father to spend time with me. The thing we would do the most is cook. Kyle was an amazing cook, and I was excited to learn from him. It took a while, but I started getting the hang of it.

"You're going to be one hell of a cook when you're older!" He'd say.

On my eleventh birthday, Kyle seemed to make it his job to make sure I had a happy birthday. He gave me a little gift in a white clothing box.

"Happy birthday, Ray!" Kyle said brightly, handing me my gift.

"You... you didn't have to get me anything, Kyle." I replied softly, looking at my shoes.

"Aw just open it!" He urged, making me hold the gift.

I smiled at him thankfully, and untied the red ribbon. I opened the box to see purple fabric and a zipper, and I grinned excitedly.

"A jacket!"

I took the sweater out of box and held it up. It looked like it would fit Kyle.

"I got it a little big so it'll last longer. But look, look at the hood!"

I did so and saw little purple cat ears on the top of the hood.

"Oh my goodness, Kyle! Thank you so much, I love it!" I squeaked, hugging the soft fabric to my chest.

Kyle smiled and chuckled softly, "Good, I'm glad you like it, Ray."

I wore the jacket every single day. It was HUGE on my tiny eleven-year-old body, but that didn't matter. Kyle made an excuse to Father so he'd let me keep the jacket, thank goodness.

On one unfortunate day, Father slapped Kyle across the face when our Mother caught us cleaning up our cooking mess. Father and Mother didn't like Kyle taking care of me, not at all. Finally they came up with a plan; they were going to send Kyle to Military School for five years. Five YEARS.

At the train station, his green eyes were full of sadness, but he tried to hide it. When he had to board the train, my mother hugged him and my brother punched his shoulder jokingly. I ran up to him and hugged him tightly, burying my face into his shirt.

"Don't worry, Ray. I'll come back eventually." He assured soothingly, stroking my blonde hair softly.

I sniffled softly and looked up at him, "Ok... promise you won't forget me..?"

Kyle smiled warmly at me, "I promise, Ray. I'll never forget you."

He patted my back and got on the train, waving goodbye as it started moving. He looked right at me, smiled warmly and shouted:

"I love you, Ray! Stay strong for me!"

Tears welled up in my eyes and I grinned ear to ear, waving goodbye joyfully. My Father, unfortunately, heard him as well. Later that night, he punished me for it, adding to the bruises on my shoulders and ribs. The few weeks that passed, he and Michael seemed to do everything they could to make me forget what Kyle had said. The rest if the time, everyone revolved around my baby sister.

"Aw she can walk now!"

"Her first beautiful words!"

"Isn't she the sweetest thing?"

I spent all the time I could away from everyone, either in the forest or locked in my room alone. Everything that was happening, the only person that loved me was gone, my entire family loved the "replacement Ray" more than they could or would ever care for me, and the fact whenever someone DID say something to me, it wasn't anything pleasant. The only thing I had from Kyle was my kitty-eared jacket, and I wore it all the time. I wore it to bed, during summer, winter, always. I would even guard the washer and dryer so no one would take it from me… I was quite a paranoid little child. My father seemed to get more and more irritated with me because of it.

"Goddamnit, Ray! Give me that damn sweater!" Father yelled, not liking that it was from Kyle.

"NO! It's mine!" I replied loudly, clutching the fabric tightly against my chest.

He growled and sneered, his eyes the usual anger filled black-green glare. "Give it to me or I'll-" He grabbed on to my sleeve and pulled, making the fabric rip with a terrible sound.

I gasped, my dark blue eyes widening in horror. "N-NOO!" I screamed, pulling away and making the fabric tear more.

He laughed darkly and let go, "Fine, keep your pointless, broken memories. They're worth nothing to me." He turned and walked out of the room with a satisfied smirk on his face.

I looked down at the torn sleeve, the fabric ripped from the shoulder seam down to my elbow. I shook my head and held the fabric in my shaky hand. You must understand how much that jacket meant to me. It was the ONLY thing I had of my brother, and I knew deep down, that I'd never see him again. It was the only possession I owned that mattered to me.

I began to sob uncontrollably, unzipping the sweater and running to my room, clutching it to my chest. I slammed my door and ran to my desk at the corner of my room, grabbing scissors from the drawer. I cut off the sleeves on both sides, and then got a hold of my tears and caught my breath. I stared at the jacket and pieces of fabric, my stomach churning. I let out a shaky breath and ran a hand softly down the zipper and over the white-lined pockets. It's not all that bad... Just... sleeveless.

When I turned twelve, I tried to stay out of my house for as long as possible, sitting out in the forest by the stream. I tried not to over-think about everything as I usually did. I missed him... Kyle. My only friend id ever had...

"One year down.."

One day, my skin had an odd craving... A craving that made me nauseous. Days melded together, it seemed. This depression I had sunk into... I dug in one of my mother's sowing drawers and found one. I took the small object and hid it in my pocket, hurrying to my room and locking the door behind me. I crept to the furthest corner in my room and sat up against the wall, taking the blade out of my pocket. I held it in my hand, looking at the smooth, silver blade. A few tears fell onto it. How could I let myself slip so far? Why am I so weak?! I held it up to my wrist and pulled the corner of the razor across my soft, innocent skin. Small beads of crimson broke through behind it. This... this feeling... maybe it's... Madness.

The sight of my blood soothed my internal agony somehow... And I enjoyed it. The blade seemed to call to me after that. Every time someone looked at me like a rotting animal, any time someone told me how worthless I was, I dragged the blade along my skin. The sight of crimson soon became oh-so familiar. I took strips of black and violet fabric out of my Mother's sowing kit and made myself almost-elbow-length fingerless gloves to hide the following scars. The blade across my flesh seemed to be the only thing that could remind me that I was still human and not some monster. But maybe, that's what I had become.