I wrote this for an assignment in my poetry class, I do not remember if a narrative can be written as a freeverse, but that is what this is, if it cannot, then I may have just created a new type of poetry 8P (I doubt it). If you cannot tell who's point of view the poem is, read the author's note at the bottom after reading the poem (I do not want any possibility of spoilers), but I will tell you that it is between Ivan and Yao. Please enjoy.

Almost There

Hidden away in this damp, cold place,

Never seeing daylight,

No one knows I'm here,

No one except him.

I refuse to name this person,

He is not worthy of me acknowledging his existence.

He keeps me here, locked away,

I haven't seen my family for years,

At least, that is what it seems like.

I do not know how long I have actually been here,

But it is too long for my liking.

Footsteps, echoing down the corridor,

He's coming.

My usual expression of defiance comes back,

I refuse to give him the pleasure of my suffering.

He smiles that creepy child-like grin,

As if he were the most innocent man in the world,

But I know better:

He is a cruel and heartless creature,

As cold as the motherland which holds his origin.

Violet eyes hold a sinister gleam,

Pale blonde hair craving to be tainted once again

By my blood.

I used to trust this man,

Way back when,

During the times of alliance and war,

Then he stole me away.

I glare my worst,

Praying it is enough for him to leave me be.

Hey, a guy can dream.

His cheshire beam only grows,

Sending shivers of foreboding down my battered spine.

A cold sweat develops,

Running down my temple,

It seems he has favored his lead water pipe for the weapon of choice

Once again.

I cannot let this monster touch me one more time,

I have to find a way out,

If I don't, I will break.

I cannot last much longer in this frozen hell.

He steps closer to me,

Licking his lips in anticipation.

I rise slowly, as I do every time.

Twirling the pipe in his hands,

Laughing in his malicious cackle,

Loving the fear evident in my eyes.

I have no choice,

It is now or never,

I rush him.

He did not expect this-I should have no energy,

Being half-starved and all.

I don't know where this adrenaline comes from,

But that hardly matters:

I've knocked him down.

His curses follow me down the unfamiliar halls,

I can hear him chasing me.

Franticly I run,

Needing to find some exit.

I turn down a passage, finding a door at the end,

Bursting through, I am in a parlor.

There should be a way out,

Somewhere.

Door after door,

Hall after hall,

How big is this house?

I spy a coatrack,

Please, let that be it,

I am running out of my reserve fuel.

I open a large door and face a blinding expanse of white,

Not caring that I am half-naked I speed to my freedom.

There is a forest,

Maybe I can climb a tree and hide to rest;

I will have to go farther in so he will not find me.

The wind is bitter,

nipping at my tattered flesh,

spewing the white powder everywhere.

It's very difficult to see,

But at least it is for him, too.

I think I have run far enough for now.

I find a branchy conifer,

Scaling it easily,

Barely registering the scratches its prickly bark

And the jabs of its needles.

I sit, and I wait,

Wait for the one I know will still be pursuing me,

He is not the type to ever give up,

Especially without a fight.

My breath hitches as the cackling fills the icy air,

My blood runs cold,

The taunts of my enemy fill every chamber of my being.

If he finds me,

He will kill me.

I mustn't let him know,

I cannot let him take me back,

And I refuse to die out here,

Away from those I love.

My heartbeat pounds in my chest,

I am surprised he cannot hear it as well.

He steps into view,

Walking casually as if merely going out for a stroll,

That smile never leaving his misleading face.

Suddenly he stops,

As does my heart,

Does he know where I am?

He stares at some far off place,

In the opposite direction of my trembling self.

The laughing and taunting linger in the air,

But they are stale.

He has not moved nor made a sound for what seems like eternity.

Rustling,

He's digging a hand in his pocket.

I squint, trying to see what he pulled out,

a photo?

He looks at the object dully,

There is no longer a mad tint in his eyes,

No longer can I see blood lust in his every feature.

He sighs and stalks back the way he came,

I almost cry from relief,

Almost.

I still have my wits,

I know he can't be too far off,

I might have to stay the night in this tree.

Not that I mind too terribly,

It is warmer up here than it ever was in that cell,

And I am very weak with exhaustion and hunger.

If I had to keep running this day,

I would never make it.

Besides,

Darkness is slowly creeping upon me,

The sun having set a few moments ago.

I make no noise as oblivion takes me for the night,

Smiling to myself as the realization dawns on me:

I am free.

Light shines on my peaceful face,

The early sun warning me of the coming day.

I'm not really wanting to get up,

But I must run as far away from this place as possible.

I must get home,

I can't stand being away any longer.

I make my way down the tree,

Thanking it for its shelter for the night.

I make my way South,

Hoping I will come across a town soon.

Mid-day arrives,

I have reached the end of the forest,

Towering nature opening up,

Revealing a valley and a village.

I can't feel my feet anymore,

Nor can I feel any other part of my body.

I am sure frost bite has almost completely taken over,

But I can't let it,

I must reach the valley.

Blackness overwhelms me,

I fall,

Creating a disturbance in the otherwise perfect purity.

I can't let him win,

But at least I can die without being in his presence.

I can tell myself that it was the cold,

Not his tortures.

That he had nothing to do with it,

That I died of my own accord.

I can lie to myself for an eternity,

But it wouldn't change the fact,

Despite my futile attempts,

It was because of him.

Everything happened because of him.

Tears I did not know I still had

Run frozen on my face.

This is it,

This is the end.

I am free.

Why did he have to run?

Why do they always have to run?

They never realize that what I do is out of love,

I cannot help that I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving me.

So I broke a few bones

Every day.

Does that not show my affection?

Why couldn't he see the special treatment I gave him

Was out of necessity?

I stare at the photograph,

Edges billowing in the wind.

It was taken many years ago,

Back when our countries fought as allies in the war.

It is the only photo I have of him,

Even if it is tainted by the presence of the others,

It is the most precious thing I own.

I sigh sadly,

He does not wish to be with me,

I do not have it in me any longer to hunt him to the death,

It is too painful.

If he does not want me,

Then I will not pursue him any longer.

I slowly make my way back home,

Trying to convince myself that it is not worthy of death.

So far, I am losing my own argument-a most unsettling fact.

I enter the confines of my room,

Secluding myself from everything filled with light,

I have no reason to exist in this world without him by my side.

But I am too weary to do it tonight,

I will wait,

He may even come back.

Hey, a guy can dream.

Exhaustion takes over,

I lay crumpled across my bed.

Early dawn light peaks through my curtains,

I blink into consciousness.

Did he come back?

I know it's useless getting my hopes up for no reason,

I know he will never return,

But I cannot help myself-I have been alone for so long.

Always, I remember myself craving for affection,

Always, craving for love.

I found it through him,

But he didn't return it,

It was the most painful thing I have ever felt.

If I cannot find him today, then I will just end it all

Tonight.

I cannot stand this torment I live through,

It's not worth it.

I rise from my bed, realizing that I never even took off my boots,

Not that I really care.

I leave the warmth of my home

And am immediately surrounded by the comforting cold.

If he survived last night,

He probably would be heading South.

Whether he knows it's there or not,

I am sure he will come across that little village in the valley,

As it lies exactly South of the forest.

I take to the road,

Not even bothering to try and get my snowplow.

I do not feel like driving,

Walking might help clear my mind.

Mid-day peaks overhead as I enter the village,

I do not remember it being this big,

It must have expanded since last I visited.

I look North,

Staring at the forest,

As if he would suddenly burst from the copse.

Like that would ever happen.

For all I know, he arrived here before I,

And left with a ride from a local farmer.

Maybe he has already been taken to the town not too far from here.

Maybe he has already boarded a train to take him home.

No, that is hardly likely,

He should have been exhausted last night,

There is no way he could have kept moving in his condition.

He would've had to stop for some sleep.

Besides,

He has no money.

How could he pay for a train ticket?

Unless he steals it;

But he is not that kind of a person.

A dark shape finds its way into my unfocussed gaze,

I peer once again at the edge of the trees,

There,

I know I saw something...

Surely it has to be him, right?

The forest belongs to me,

No one from this village would dare step near it.

Even children knew it was not wise to linger at its bounds,

I would think.

I have to see what that shadow was,

It may have been nothing,

But it could also have been something-the very something I am looking for.

Carefully,

I sweep my gaze across the expanse of near-endless white.

My eyes fall upon a disturbance in the landscape,

It looks like something-or someone-fell.

I slowly make my way over to the disheveled patch.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head

As they fall upon the blue of my beloved's back.

Casting aside my pride I dash to his side,

Cradling his beautiful frozen head to my chest.

He is beyond saving,

There is no pulse.

I killed him-

The only one to have ever actually penetrated my heart.

My tears freeze on my face,

Resembling the tracks on his.

I cry softly as I realize a horrible truth,

He is free.

-HozE

This is my very first fanfic, so please rate and review, I would love some constructive criticism. The first part of the poem is in Yao's point of view, then later it turns to Ivan (hopefully you can tell where that break is).