Okay...this is just a start but..I do hope you all love this story of mine.
Inspiration: Several other stories but mainly through my own relationships...
Motivation: My friends have succeeded in making me confident enough to finally put my story onto the net. First stop is Fanfiction. ^_^
WARNING!: This story, later on, may contain male on male 'bonding'. The fujoshi (fangirls of such thing) will understand.
Disclaimer: Bleach and characters used (c) Tite Kubo
"Black Abyss"
Here we are.
Back in the situation we were in before.
Arguing over something childish.
I don't even know how this all started.
The arguement.
It was over who dominated the other.
Being the jackass many call me, I insisted it was me.
Next thing I knew he was throwing a vase towards me.
Poor little thing shattered to pieces once it hit the wall.
I took it as him simply overreacting.
Huge mistake.
Another vase.
I told him he was acting like a child.
The next thing that shattered was our anniversary picture.
Silence.
Oh, how I hated it.
I sighed.
That was what broke the silence.
I looked at him and somehow wished I could stop what was about to happen.
Tears.
Rolling in streams down his tan cheeks.
He only gets like this when I sigh.
Thinking I'm getting bored of him.
Going to leave him.
Abandon him.
Betray him.
Violate him.
But I haven't.
I love him too much to do that.
He completes me.
As sappy as it sounds.
He touches my arm slightly.
I know what's to come.
He tells me to leave.
As shocked as I am inside I don't move.
More tears trickle down his cute cheeks.
He pushes me slightly.
I refuse to give him what he wants.
He punches my chest repeatedly.
I chuckle because they feel like gentle slaps.
But I know I shouldn't be laughing.
I should be at his feet.
Begging for him to forgive me.
And if this were any other situation, I would be.
But you can't always get what you wish for.
His mood changes suddenly.
He glares at me and stomps off.
Those gentle poundings from his fists still linger on my chest.
It takes me a moment to realize those poundings are my heart beats.
I hear the front door slam shut.
I laugh at my own stupidity.
Leaning on the closest wall, I slide down and hold my knees to my chest.
I don't cry.
I won't.
I simply refuse to.
I lost those long ago in the crash.
A tear falls.
I lean my head back and chuckle sadly.
Three more tears.
And then my laughter stops.
I choke out a sob and rest my forearm over my eyes.
To hide my shame and embarrassment.
My knees slide so they're straight.
I look in the tall mirror on the opposite side of where I am.
But I look away as soon as my eyes land on my pitiful form.
June 15. Friday, 10:35 P.M.
I'm so pathetic.
I actually let myself cry.
I deserve this loss.
I've messed up and this is karma.
It's been a week already and no sign of him.
I need to get over this.
This loss shouldn't effect me like this.
I'm being paranoid.
I need to escape.
I need to get out.
But I don't know where.
I've lost my sense of direction.
And if I do go, what if he comes back?
Tche.
He probably won't.
I quickly grab my keys and wallet.
I slip on my shoes at the door.
Once I'm outside I lock it just in case.
Lord knows what might happen if I don't lock it.
I press a button on my keys and my car beeps proudly.
I open the door and slip in before pressing the start button.
My baby purrs loudly before growling.
I laugh at the irony.
No wonder she was named Pantera 156-SO.
In a matter of seconds I'm zooming by the many businesses ranging from Vizards Inc. to Hollows Get-A-Way.
I'm passing by houses, shops, and the lengendary grapevine.
And I'm ignoring the speed limit of 30 mph.
I check my meteor and notice the monitor stating nearly 60 mph.
I ignore the flashing lights of red, white, and blue.
The colors that many know as independence.
But in my case.
Police.
But I can't seem to care.
I don't care.
But is that true?
I can't tell what's right or wrong anymore.
Nor can I tell from right or left.
Next thing I know I black out for I don't know how long.
Once I've come to, I see white.
White lights that seem to be zooming by from above.
White walls with equally white door frames that hold black numbers above.
I don't know how I managed to see the floor but I somehow do.
The floor is also white.
And so are the windows.
Then it dawns on me.
I'm in a hospital.
I'm strapped down so I don't thrash about.
I manage to force a chuckle.
It sounds like a pained cry.
But I am in pain.
Far worse than the fear of dying.
Far worse than falling 50 ft. to your death.
No, this pain is far worse.
It's a pain you don't feel physically.
Or emotionally.
What I feel is the pain of my awareness.
I'm aware that this is my fault.
I'm aware that my stupidity put me here.
Hell, I almost commited suicide unknowingly.
Heh.
But I can't help but wish that I did.
To escape from my awareness.
Life is a lot harder than it seems at first glance though.
You can't simply die.
You have to inflict enough pain that your own body can't stand.
Enough pain that makes you forget.
Forget the suffering you're going through.
But when you disappear, others that loved you will suffer.
I don't want him to suffer.
I barely feel the soft prick of a knife.
They've sedated me.
I want to scream and laugh out my frustrations.
The knife plunges deeper and the sedation finally kicks in one-hundred percent.
I black out once more.
June 18. Monday, 8:23 A.M.
I wake up to more darkness.
It appears that even though I'm conscious, my eyes won't open.
I hear voices.
Voices that ooze with anger, frustration, hilarity, and disappointment.
Saying that I'm naive.
Flat out stupid even.
But I don't blame them.
I hear laughter at someone's joke about me.
Something in me snaps and a growl makes itself known.
Silence.
That damn thing just keeps coming back.
A soft, timid, somewhat familiar voice breaks the silence with my name.
It's my baby sister Nel.
My eyes force themselves open.
For a second I think I've gone blind.
That forsaken color of white is everywhere.
I blink just for good measure and am granted with blurred figures.
It seems my awakefulness has made everyone quiet their voices into slurred, hushed tones.
The blur disappears and I can finally make them out.
My family and my two somewhat best friends.
I feel a sting on my cheek.
I blink out the sudden nausea.
I look over to my left and see my mother, little sister, and my stoic as ever friend, Ulquiorra.
I look to my right and see my father, older brothers, and my grinning psychotic friend, Nnoitra.
But right in front of me is someone I don't know.
Orange hair.
Well pronounced bosom.
Slim waist.
Nice hips.
I shake my head and look back up.
Tears.
I inwardly cringe.
Her hair and tears remind me too much of him.
Just then is when she apologizes for slapping me.
I sigh.
Nothing like him besides the hair.
If he were here he'd say I deserved it.
I somehow manage to ask where he is.
They seem a bit bristled by my sudden question.
Confusion and worry twist my features.
I growl the question once more.
Wary glances are passed to each other.
Suddenly irritated at that I demand the answer with a threat.
My mother breaks down in a fit of tears at my outburst.
My father glares murder towards me.
My brothers just sigh in unison, going over to comfort Mom.
My sister looks down; shock, anger, sorrow, and understanding swirling in her grey eyes.
Nnoitra just laughs obnoxiously.
Ulquiorra is just staring at that orange haired chick.
Probably undressing her with his eyes.
Speaking of her, she is also in the same position as my mother.
I clear my throat to get their attention once they've calmed down a bit.
I try once more in a softer, kinder tone.
Nnoitra is the one that answers.
The answer shocks me.
Why would-after all I put him through..
I'm not sure if this is a good spot to stop at, but I don't want to put nearly 20 pages all in one chapter. Anyway... Please review your thoughts on this first chapter... Tell me whether I did good, great, not so great, or horrible. Also if you think I should continue you should tell me.. But I won't continue this if you don't want me to. Please only put respectful comments. I understand that some of you may not have like how I styled me story this way, but that doesn't give you the right to force me into styling it differently.
~Dami-desu~
