(The words in italics are just… lyrics you could say.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or it's characters. The words in italic are my own however.)
Scream for me, lovely
Thrash. Shriek. Cry. That was all he could do.
Bleed for me, darling
How long was he going to stay here in that white corner? How long was he going to have a straitjacket binding his arms and restricting his movement? How long was he going to scream only to end up with no voice? How long was he going to cry until his eyes were red? How long was he going to thrash until his body ached?
Hurt for me, sweetie
Every day that passed by was slower for him. Every day that went by was longer then it should have been. What did he do to deserve this? What did he do that was so wrong that he'd ended up in a room of burning white?
Cry for me, precious
He'd tried to destroy the world, so what? He hadn't gotten away with it. He'd never killed anyone, never hurt anyone… had he? But still, what had he done to get this? Had kissing the Spanish boy been a sin so bad to put him into a place worse then hell? Had feeling the Spanish boy's flesh been enough? Had running his fingers through the Spanish boy's red and brown hair put him here? Had just being near the Spanish boy been enough?
And die for me, honey
Something put him here. Something made him suffer each day. Brooklyn wasn't innocent enough to just be put here without a reason. He knew that. So maybe he was meant to die here. No, he was meant to die here. He wasn't meant to exist with others. He was meant to scream until his voice was gone, to cry until his eyes were red, and to thrash until he went numb. He was meant to suffer. That was how he was meant to live. That was how he was always going to live… wasn't it?