Hey! I'm back! That was quick wasn't it? Well be glad because I used my precious project time to write this and turned my project in a day late, which means 10 points off! I decided to write this little thing in the middle of class, and I creeped myself out with the rough draft! I almost cried, and I wrote the thing! So I made it less of a tear-jerker, though I might post it as an unrelated dark-fic, if anyone asks.

Thank you Taylor and Sarah! You're actually going to read my crappy writing! Yay! Sorry if I gave you confusing instructions on how to get to my story. If you actually got here then please accept the apology! If you didn't then I'm just writing to thin air right now, but whatever!

I decided to write this from Sydney's point of view, but I'm not sure if I did it right… Hmm, oh well. Oh, and if you want a sound track to go with the story, listen to Tourniquet or Sweet Dreams. And I still don't own Yugioh. If I did then I wouldn't be writing this, now would I?

Here's the key again for those to lazy to look back.

Emphasis!

'Blah blah' thoughts. I mean direct thoughts, not just an idea, like in this chapter.

"Again, you are an idiot if you don't know what this means already." Again, speech.

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I miss Atlanta. Is that strange? To miss that god-awful, traffic-filled city? No, I don't miss Atlanta. I miss my old house and my old friends. I miss the rare snowfalls each winter. It doesn't snow here in Melbourne.

I miss having my own room. I have to share a room with my sister here. We don't have enough money to afford three rooms.

My mom tries, works hard to pay for everything, but I can tell it's hard, even when she tries to hide it from me. She's always skinny, trying to give most of the food to me and Madison. She's always gone during the day and into the night. I know that without her gone at work we wouldn't be able to live at all, but I wish she wouldn't leave.

I wish she wouldn't leave me alone with him. Him. Saiantul. The ghost that came to me the night we moved here. The man who lives in those cursed golden things that the old shopkeeper had given me. He looks exactly like me, maybe even my age, but he tortures me the same.

Before he would cause scratches and bruises to form all over my body. But when mom got suspicious, I begged him to stop. I didn't want mom to worry even more about me. At first he wouldn't, but I threatened to go to the police and have them lock me and him up in a mental house. He couldn't risk restricting my body.

My body. That's the only reason he keeps me around. He needs my body to move, to achieve his mysterious motives. He needs mine because he doesn't have one. He is not free to move around, or to do as he wishes. He is forced to remain near me, near the golden jewelry that will not come off.

He agreed to stop hurting me. Physically. There are many more ways to hurt someone than just hitting them. Now he's always over my shoulder, pointing out every flaw, every mistake. He sends me nightmares, terrible nightmares, where I'm all alone, running and screaming, but no one is there but me. I can't sleep at night now. I'm too afraid. Too afraid of the new nightmares he'd come up with. But I can never resist for very long.

This is getting to be too much. I can't take it anymore. My soul is breaking. I can tell when I'm forced into my soul room by the other me, I am slowly breaking, until I shatter. The first time I was in my soul room, I thought it was a beautiful place. The walls were made of canvas that changed color according to my moods. Now those beautiful canvas walls are slowly peeling off the wall, and the whole room was now a terrible black, mixed with the deep blue indicating despair. Once there were bookshelves shoved to one wall, filled with my favorite books, but the books began disappearing, and now there are none left. The books had been guarding something though. They had been guarding a steel door that was probably sturdy once, but now has cracks running through out it. It looks as though one touch will bring the door tumbling down. I don't want the door that guards my most terrible and forbidden memories to fall. If it does I know I will drown in the terrible sorrow I keep locked away.

I want a way out, a way for my soul to be saved, or erased, by now I don't care which one comes, I just want my pitiful existence to end. But I can't. I'm afraid. Not for me, I don't care about myself anymore. No, I'm afraid for my sister and my mother. What will happen to them if I go away, if I die? Who will support them? Who will hold Madison's hand and tell her it will be O.K., Who will support mom when she's trying her hardest to squeeze out a living for us?

No one.

They would be all alone, stranded when their pillar crumbles underneath them. I can't let them know that the pillar they thought was stone is really sand, ready to crumble. When Nanny and Granddad died, I was the one that stood strong. I was the one to support mom.

I was the one to say we should move out of that cursed city of death.

But now I'm in a city of torture. I can only concentrate on one thing.

My family needs me.

I have to help my mom and my little sister. They are my lifeline to sanity. I have to help them in anyway possible.

I know exactly how too.

They need a little extra money, a little more food on the table. I know of the perfect place to find exactly that.

A restaurant.

You can find them anywhere here, there are millions along the beach, and it seems every one of them needs some one to work there.

Even someone like me.

I haven't even turned fourteen yet, but I know at least one place will take me, even if it's illegal to hire children. I don't care.

I know I won't last much longer. I can feel it. It's getting harder and harder to resist him if he wants to use my body for some thing. In my soul room I'm actually transparent. But if I can help mom and Madison before I disappear completely, then my life won't be totally useless.

I know that the other me can cook. Even though he can only cook ancient meals, it's better than nothing. That's the only thing I know about my other me, other than the fact that he looks exactly like me, only he's a guy. But he has my hair, the same honey blond thickness. He wears it back in ponytail like I do. The only thing that's different is his eyes. Whereas mine are a hazel-nut brown flecked with green, his are a cold and cruel amber color.

Cold.

Cruel.

Those two words describe my other perfectly.

At least he hasn't been able to invade my soul room yet. I'm getting so weak that I know it would be all too easy to trespass on my only sanctuary. So before he does I'll confront him first.

It was after school, and me and Madison were finished with our homework.

"…Only have five days of school left! Sydney, are you listening to me?" Madison said.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I am." I answered her distractedly, I was thinking of my plan.

"Sydney," she said in a serious tone, "Are you O.K.?"

"Of course I am, why do you ask?" I answered back, worried that she'd she had seen through my charade.

"You can't sleep. I can hear you when you dream, you scream. Are you sure you're O.K.?" She said doubtful of my reassurances.

I smiled and said, "I'm fine, it's just a bad dream. Now come on, we're going out!" I said, a fake excitement in my voice.

She got up and said, "Where are we going Sydney?"

I smiled at her, she was so innocent and somewhat naïve at times.

"We are going to help."

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Me: Aw, Isn't that sweet!

Victoria: Yes, it's terrifying.

Me: AAH! How'd you get in my story, evil me?

Victoria: I'm everywhere you are, aibo!

Me: *shudder* Never call me by Yami's pet name for Yugi! It's just not right!

Victoria: *Pouts* Your right. Anyway, You people better review, I am evil, so who knows what I might do to the poor Authoress? *Pulls out torture device*

Me: NOOOO!! NOT THAT AGAIN!! *Screams* PLEASE REVIEW BEFORE VICTORIA TORTURES ME! YOU TOO TAYLOR!!

Victoria: *insert evil laugh* BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!