Bleed it out
It's not that easy to say goodbye to anyone, whether they be a lover, friend, family member, or a stranger-when you're lonely. Because when your lonely the darkness is frightening and the silence is opressive, not to mention that songs about bloody anything make you want to ball your eyes out. Anything and everything is sacred when your lonely; the strange passer-by that smiles at you, the family member who never really talked to you takes an extra minute to listen to the standard answer of 'I'm fine', and friends who ignore your wishes in favor of their own pick your choice for once. Being lonely is perhaps the most horrible thing you can feel, sure there is despair but loneliness leads to despair and then there is always depression but as with despair, loneliness leads to that as well. You see what I am getting at. Loneliness is the root of all feeling.
Adam was lonely so God made Eve.
Alike to Adam, Donnie Nakajima was terribly lonely.
Sure, he had a best friend and a boss. His best friend had been there through thick and thin, had made things better when better seemed like it was only worse. Yeah, Ridely was something else. His boss was the man under 'The Man'; Mr. Joker. Mr. Joker was a fine fellow, if you did what he told you of course. Oh but if you didn't do e-x-a-c-t-l-y what he said, then he'd have a problem and in effect you'd have a major pain in the arse after you. It was best just to do what he said. Mr. Joker's boss was THE boss, he was The Gentleman and his word was law in the Library of London. Donnie had a 'The' attached to his title as well, and believe me he was bloody proud of his 'the'. He was The Paper. Hmm, maybe I should retry that, he WAS the Paper. Ah, that's better.
This story of pointless woe starts and ends with loneliness as most stories do. As I said before Donnie Nakajima was l-o-n-e-l-y.
--
Drip.
The blood dripped in time with the faucet on the other side of Donnie's cell. He was bleeding from a gash in his shoulder that oozed and ran a river right down his arm to the floor. He was currently unchained but he suspected that was only because he could not move if he wanted to. The door opened and bright light filtered in and a shadow obscured the whiteness.
Blink.
Donnie couldn't see the person; he didn't know why but again suspected it had something to do with his earlier beating. All he could make out was a rough profile; the figure had on some sort of black atire cause the figure was black with a contrast of white skin, the figure was also a woman. How could he tell it was a woman? Hmmp trust me, a man knows a woman when he smells, sees, touches, is-in-the-general-vicinity-of a woman. Sounds of hard breathing covered the room, and a feminine squeak reached Donnie's ears. Aha! Told ya it was a woman.
"Donnie!!"
"Yo-mi-ko?"