Just a reflection on Ritsuka's mother's madness. I apologize in advance for the erratic story pattern, which I attribute to my having not written a fanfiction in x number of months as well as the fact that it (hopefully) reflects on Misaki's mental state.
Enjoy?
I fear myself...
whenever I pass my dead son's room...and hear a car drive by on the street, thinking it is my husband, finally come home.
I hate myself...
whenever I hear my Ritsuka's pleads and gasps of air through the patter of the shower...
whenever the clock strikes six and I feel a flash of rage burn my heart before I realize that Ritsuka is home, in his room safe...from me...
whenever I see my precious Ritsuka...and feel my hands burn as I beat him.
Again, the clock tolled six, and I felt the familiar stab of rage penetrate my heart. My feet had already begun moving on their own towards Ritsuka's room before I stopped myself on the banister of the stairs.
"Ritsuka is home." I whispered to myself, desperately wishing that my anger would fade.
Forcefully, step by step, I staggered back to the kitchen and collapsed into a chair, feeling the tears once again burn my eyes.
Where did he go?
But Ritsuka is here.
Where is my strong son?
Ritsuka will not leave.
He is not here to protect Ritsuka. He is not here to stop me when I try and beat my precious Ritsuka. He is not here to keep this family together, and now, now that he is gone...this family is dying, just like the wildflowers that girl from Ritsuka's class had brought over...the ones that I had crushed under my foot.
Crushed.
Hurt.
Beaten.
My hands burn. They burn from beating my son...my Ritsuka.
My hands tremble in my lap, as if they remember the strength they used to hold Ritsuka down and beat him and draw from him streams of blood that flowed from his nose, his mouth, his wounds. I clenched my hands tightly in my lap, forcing them to stay their violent course.
In the floor above me, I heard the door in my Ritsuka's room open for a moment...then close. I heard quiet voices-one my Ritsuka's and the other a deeper voice not quite bass, not quite tenor.
My poor Ritsuka, having to talk to himself to alleviate his pain. How alone he must feel, how hurt he must feel.
I am afraid.
I fear myself.
The clock tolled seven, and I rose from my hair, hands still trembling. I dragged my feet to the medicine cabinet and, with shaking hands, pulled from it an orange tube filled with small white tablets.
Aoyagi Misaki, the label read. Take two in the morning and two at night.
I could use these pills to escape the loneliness, the pain, the fear. My hand trembled, and my palm was filled with the tablets.
How easy would it be to just take them all now? I could protect my Ritsuka and bring my family back together. I raised my hand with the pills to my mouth and froze.
Ritsuka's voice was speaking quietly, talking about something called Septimal Moons, whatever that was; probably just some game that was a new fad at school. Then, Ritsuka responded again in his deeper, not quite bass, not quite tenor voice.
I lowered my hand from my mouth.
I am afraid.
I fear myself.
No, I could not leave my Ritsuka alone like this.
My hands burn from beating my son, my Ritsuka...but I can't leave him alone like this. Ritsuka is just a child. Ritsuka is my precious baby boy. I gave birth to this child.
My hands burn from beating my son.
But I love him.
At least until dead son comes home, until Seimei comes home, I will remain because Ritsuka is my precious child, whom I fear for so, so much.
I am afraid.
I fear myself.
Well, here's to hoping Yun Kouga updates soon. I want a new chapter of Loveless. :(
Sincerely,
-PurificationArrow