Pages flapped helplessly in the gentle breeze that swept on by.
A body laid on the ground, eyes half-lidded, tears streaming down their bloody, beaten, face. Cuts decorated sensitive flesh which caused the meant to be caressing breeze hurt and sting with so much pain it felt as if they were burning.
Crimson droplets colored the pages as dull hues stared up at the night sky.
It wasn't as bad as usual…not one bit…it wasn't snowing like it did that one fucking freezing winter when this had been their gift from their father.
Nee-chan couldn't do anything.
Nii-chan didn't give two shits what happened to the adopted child.
"Stay away from dad!"
Cold dark pools had stared down on them that night, the little girl tried to hurry over but –
"Rukia! Stay with Byakuya! Don't ya fuckin' come over here!!"
She had cried.
She watched the fragile figure get beaten to hell and tossed out of the house, being called 'worthless trash' as always.
Closing their eyes a snicker passed slit lips.
How fucking funny this situation was. And dealing with such hell for all those years. It still continued…nearly going to cutting the pale flesh to stab the inner organs. Such a useless 'father.'
"Nii-san!" Rukia had screamed, "Renji!!"
And yet Byakuya held her back like always…like a good little boy.
They weren't family now as long as he was concerned.
Turning the long haired boy groaned and slammed his eyes shut, curling his hands into fists and pushing himself up, licking the blood dribbling down from his lower lip and grabbed onto the dirty note book he had held nearby as always, which had been tossed out along with him.
All because of a misunderstanding with him kissing Rukia's arm to help her 'boo-boo' feel better.
Stupid mother-fucking prick.
His real parents even abandoned him at a random orphanage. They left him…the redhead smirked in a strained way at how the image of them grinning in a demented way of getting rid of him.
Stupid fuckers…
He hated people. They were a waste of space, needing to be all perfect and whatnot…it made him sick to his stomach.
Renji wiped his scrapped hand over the page and cursed once words smudged and he felt his blood ring in his ears, eyes narrowing and tears continuing to fall.
It was so unfair…so not fair…
He hated his life…
Maybe he had been a waste of DNA. Sure shit.
Closing up the black word-holder the teen pushed himself shakily onto his feet and stumbled before he straightened himself, setting his bleeding hand against the wall.
Why…
Renji began to make his way forth, clutching the last possession he never wanted to loose to his chest. His eyes were hazed as he glanced up at an abandoned church. A church…huh?
…do people need to hurt?
His black short sleeved shirt was tattered and ripped, his baggy same-shaded pants torn at the knees, dark Nike's holding onto his feet to keep them warm to the best of their abilities. Tripping on the steps Renji cursed and laid there, shuddering violently from the cold and slowly made a motion to scrunch himself up.
Pushing off his hand a pained whimper slipped past his lips.
Slowly he crawled up to the doors and nearly fainted from joy once when he pushed it opened.
Maybe God decided to have pity on him for being such a good boy in protecting his 'sister'. Dealing with all this fucking shit for as long as he had. Writing down all the torment inside the note book.
His life, he never let go of it or lost sight of the patient friend who welcomed him back…
…and couldn't criticize him for how he let it all happen.
Renji believed that there were angels and demons…no doubt. But what he wanted mostly was a guardian angel, someone to hold him as he cried when in such agonizing pain such as tonight.
But no…those didn't exist.
If they did why hadn't one come to save him yet?
Finally making it to a bench, a rickety, smelly, old bench. Hoisting himself up he laid down on it and held onto his journal even tighter.
He didn't want to die, not yet.
Closing his eyes Renji shook. It messed like rat piss, shit, vomit, mildew, mold…even blood. His blood.
Curling up into a ball the boy let out a sob and his shoulders shock horribly.
Why does life…need to screw me over a hundred times over…? Why not fuck with someone else, bitch?
As those thoughts passed his mind the red haired boy fell into an endless abyss.
---flashback---
A door swung open as the baby cried, small fists placed beside the boy's head, little red hairs sprouting at the top of his head.
He was left in a basket sewn together with straw, blanket with designs of a pineapple on it. The boy barely knew how to speak and reached tiny arms up to the old woman standing above him.
"Oh my," she breathed out, bending down and scooping the child up into her bony arms. Piercing hazel eyes looked upon a gift that was from God but to be dropped on the doorstep…in such a helpless manner.
She frowned at the thought of what would've happened to the poor dear if she hadn't opened the door to the orphanage.
The red haired toddler could've been picked up and trained to be a prostitute, a sex slave, the worst things ever and she simply sighed.
"Come inside, dear," she cooed, picking up the basket to stand and head inside.
---end flashback---
Tired, exhausted, limbs moved a bit and Renji hissed at the pain, cracking an eye open.
Nasty scents passed his nose and the teen slowly pushed himself to sit up. His eyes roamed the lonely place, it was so empty, so abandoned...
...something he and the building had in common.
Standing Renji hissed as it pulled on the blood that had caked his skin. So uncomfortable and irritating. Holding his notebook to his chest the teen lifted his right foot and kicked the wooden bench in front of him, cursing everything and anything that passed his mind.
And he didn't even give a goddamn if he was in a church.
Strings tugged uncomfortably at his heart and the pale boy stopped, clutching the word-holder. Eyes fell halfway shut and he bit down on his lower lip as he hunched over.
...it hurt...
...so fucking much.