This is a depressing oneshot, Allen centric. Don't read if you don't want to spoil your X-mas spirit. Hope everyone have a happy holiday! I don't own anything… except for a love for Allen torture.

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Beyond Reality: December 25th

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He was standing right by the window, his red scaly hand was pressed right up against it, he could only numbly feel the cold. His other hand was balled up in a fist, just hanging limply against his side.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the glass window. He could feel the coldness that passes through the thin glass pane. Gazing outside with half lidded eyes, all he could see was the continuously falling snowflakes that came down in numbers more than one can ever count.

"December 25th."

His lips parted, a ghost like whisper came out.

He repeated this date over and over again.

"December 25th."

"December 25th."

He spat out it one last time like it was venom. Casting one last gaze out the window he turned around, dropping his arm to his side he slowly strides to his bed side. Sitting down, the bed dips at his weight.

A small sigh was let out from his parted lips as he ran a hand through silky white strands. He gave a lazy stretch before letting his whole body relax, he lay down on to the soft bed and closed his eyes.

"Hey there child, where are your parents?" A kind and warm voice called out at the small child huddled near a garbage can.

The small ball of rags tilted its head towards the origin of the voice and whispered with a tiny voice.

"I don't know."

The man walked closer and crouched down so he was on the same level as the child.

"You got snow in your hair." The man warmly said. He reached out to touch the boy's hair, even though the child winced at the touch at first but he eventually laid his hand on the child's head.

He ruffled the little boy's hair, snow fell off but yet the hair was still a snowy white. He pulled back only to hear a small sniffle. Looking down he saw the child gaze at him through a watery silvery gray eye, the rest of his face was covered by more snow white strands.

"Your hair is such a lovely shade of white." The man commented as he petted the young boy's head again.

"Are you lying?" The boy looked up again, his hair fell sideways his other eye was revealed.

Just another silvery gray eye.

"No way." He answered with a light chuckle as he stared right into the young child's left eye.

He stood up and looked down at the child; he really didn't know what he could do. Looking into his arms he remembered his bag of groceries; he reached in and pulled out a small round piece of candy, wrapped nicely with shiny red paper.

"Here, a small treat." He placed the candy in the child's hand.

"Why are you so nice to me?" The small child asked quietly as he held the candy in his hand.

"Because everyone deserves to have someone being nice to them." He replied.

"I don't deserve your kindness." The child handed the piece of candy back.

"Yes you do." The man crouched down and took a hold of the small child's hand. "Maybe not everyone, but you definitely do."

The small child could only shake his head as he got up and walked right into the man's arms. He dropped his bag of groceries but yet he didn't do anything.

He could only hold the child in his arms, in a tight embrace.

After a moment, he heard a small hiccup before the child backed away with his head bowed. "I am sorry." He gently apologized as he picked up the stray pieces of groceries that littered the snowy ground. Slowly, one by one the child put away all the groceries and handed the man his bag.

"Sorry." Then the small child turned to walk away.

Only to be stopped by a hand that gripped his left wrist. He quickly turned around to shake him off, but the other's grip was too hard.

"When someone is nice to you, you are supposed to say thank you." The man pointed out. He let go and stood up, stretching a little he held out his hand.

"This place is not some where a kid your age should be."

The small child hesitated then slowly raising his left hand; he drew back the cloths that covered his hand.

"Still want to be nice?" He asked, his voice laced with hatred of those that abandoned him for this deformity.

"Of course." The man reached out and held the small child's left hand with his own.

His thumb brushed against the scaly red skin.

"What is you name?" The small child asked as he looked up at the man who let him into his life.

"Mana, Mana Walker." The man looked down at stared at the small child.

"Mana…" The child repeated the name, as if trying to see the feel of it as it slips off of his tongue.

"How about you? What is your name?" Mana asked with a tilt of his head.

"I don't know, I don't remember." The child replied with a face that no one could tell what he was feeling.

As the two of them walked out of the ally way, Mana asked.

"How about Allen Walker?"

Allen could only nod as he stared in amazement at the millions and billions of lights that hanged on every possible area of the tightly crowded street. The street was illuminated with lights of every color possible. People with boxes wrapped in all sorts of paper were making their way through the street with laugher and smiles.

"Merry Christmas, Allen." Mana whispered lightly. "And Happy Birthday."

Allen could only smile for the first time.

Suddenly he sat up, his forehead was sweating, his hands felt clammy and his breathing came out as quiet pants. He brought a hand up to his forehead and wiped the beads that gathered there. He drew a long breath before slowly climbing off of his bed; his feet touched the cold floor.

A shiver fleeted up his spine.

Silently he padded across his room and gently pushing the doorway to the bathroom. His hand blindly felt for the light switch on the wall. His hand found it and flicked it on, flickering once then twice a yellowy glow illuminated the washroom.

He looked to the side; his reflection stared back at him.

"I look horrible." He could only comment on himself.

Staring straight ahead, he looked into his own silvery gray eyes as he brushed away a white strand that was matted across his forehead.

"Allen Walker…" He parted his mouth, although he didn't say anything but he could hear clearly well as his reflection called out his name.

"You don't deserve this name, Allen."

His reflection sneered at him.

"Mana never loved you, he loved me."

"Shut up. You don't know a damn thing." He had his head bowed; he didn't want to see his own reflection anymore. His hand reached up and gently brushed against his marking on his eye.

"A mirror always shows the truth, are you such a coward that you can't even bare to see your own truth?" His reflection questioned him. "Allen Walker, you are a coward."

"Shut up…" His hands were clutched tightly against his sides. "I never harmed him!"

"Mana, you killed Mana!!!" The voice from the mirror screamed.

A pound was heard, and then a second one came.

Then millions of tiny shards flew from the mirror and his fist was bleeding.

He backed away till his back hit the door; he slowly slide down, his legs didn't have anymore strength. "I never killed Mana…"

"A mirror never lie, we always tell the truth…" A voice echoed in the small room.

Suddenly he lurched forward, the contents of his stomach spilled out and into the toilet in front of him. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as another wave of nausea passed through him. The burning sensation from the back of his throat made his whole body weak, his mouth sting, all he wanted was to lie down and rest.

His quiet pants were barely audible in the room as he slowly got up.

Using the back of his hand he wiped away the sticky wet liquid from his mouth with a grimace. He stood up and looked, his own reflection stared right back at him through the cracked mirror.

"Its December 25th again, another year to remember your birth, a birth that Mana gave to you."

"I hope your glad, Allen Walker."

His mouth unconsciously moved, he could no longer identify reality from hallucinations. His head was swimming with thoughts, the happiness were all mingled up with the sadness. He just didn't know how he could separate them anymore.

With one more sneer at him that reflected from the mirror he whispered.

"Happy Birthday, murderer."

He collapsed onto the floor, his snow white hair scattered around his head, making it seem like a crystal white halo around his blood red cursed marking.

From sanity to insanity and back again, today was the birth of a cursed angel.

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"Happy Birthday, Allen Walker."

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Please don't hate… and please don't ask me how I can write something like this on Chirstmas Eve… OTZ And if you were wondering, yes Allen was talking to himself, everything that was said was him. Hope I didn't mess him up too much. Review?

Merry XXX-Mas & Happy Birthday Allen!!!

PS: Torturing Allen-kun on Christmas Eve is the holiday spirit

Kuro