I own not these words or the worlds they create, for they are merely devices I use to sort out the musings of my tortured mind & imagination. All I can claim possession of is the prison in which these words are confined to.
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Getting Away With Murder – Papa Roach

It is impossible
To never tell the truth
But the reality is
I'm getting away with murder


Kagome

I'm starting to scare myself. It's getting worse. Like, it's beginning to become a problem. It's practically an addiction. I'm just spiralling down the rabbit hole and there is no end in sight. I can't seem to stop. It's at the point where I'm unconsciously letting them out of the caged prison that is my mind. And I don't even realize it.

And I think Miroku's beginning to figure it out. He's starting to see through them. Sometimes I can hear it in his voice when we're talking on the phone. The doubt, the worry. It's even worse in person. I can see him staring at me, that look in his eyes, piercing straight into me. It's moments like that when I know he knows. But he hasn't figured out why yet. And I need to keep it that way.

It was never this bad when you were here. I mean, sure, you instigated a little bit of it, but I mean, you were the oldest; you were bound to get a little more attention than me. And of course Souta got more attention than me. But it was only to be expected, right? After all, the middle child usually gets neglected. It's just the way the world works.

And I never hated you for it. Was I jealous of you at times? Yes, but I never hated you. I could never hate you. We're family.

I don't understand why you had to leave though. I don't understand why you were taken before your time. What a stupid concept. 'Taken before your time.' How can you be taken from something that you have no control over? We don't own time. Sure we can pretend with our stopwatches and clocks, but in actuality, they do nothing. Nothing but countdown our own miserable ends.

And it isn't fair. I need you. You can't be gone. You can't have left. What am I supposed to do now? Who am I supposed to go to now when the urge becomes too strong?

Not Sango. She's even worse than Miroku. I can't even look her in the eye anymore. And I can't use them on her either. She's too perceptive, too nosy. Every time she sees me, she asks me what's wrong. What am I supposed to say to that? Am I supposed to tell her? That I feel like nothing? That no matter what I do, it won't matter? Not with your memory so fresh in people's minds. Every time I hear your name now, it's like a blow to the chest. And I hear it all the time. People can't get enough of it. It's on the news, it's on the radio. It's on people's lips as I pass by them on the subway. And I'm getting sick of it.

Yes, you were great. A great performer, an amazing vocalist. People still can't believe that you're dead.

Yeah, I can say it. Dead. That's what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. Just another person who ceases to exist in this realm we call home.

But home's not home anymore. Not without you. Why were you always so giving? Why did you make me need you, make me develop this horrible child-like dependency on you? Why did you have everybody wrapped around your pretty little fingers? Why was I the one who was wrapped the tightest?

I hear them mention your name like they knew you. It's always like that on the TV. But you liked it. You always loved the limelight. And I can't never hope to take your place.

Mom says nobody could've done anything. She says, "What will be, will be and we must forge along." Que sera, sera. But how can I do that? How can I move past this? You were the key to everything, and without you, everything that I was aiming for, everything I was trying to achieve is now locked away in a place that I can no longer access.

I used to wish you would disappear. But not like this, never like this. Because I still need you. I need you so that you can help me get over this. Before you were going to get me help. Professional help. Like a shrink or something. And I was totally opposed to it at first. But then you said you'd go with me. You said you would be right by my side the entire time. You promised. But how are you going to do that now?

You used to always keep your promises. You used to tell me, "Kagome, when I say I promise, I mean it." Guess what? You lied.

Which is ridiculously ironic. The one time you lie. To me of all people. The one who has the problem. You sure have a funny way of showing the world my deficiencies. You know I can't help it. You know the words just slip past my lips whenever I don't want to acknowledge the truth. You know it's compulsive, border-line obsessive. But it gives me a thrill. To know that someone has total belief in the words I say. To know that each deceitful word, each fallacy, each complete fabrication is considered to be truth by the unknowing recipient. It's powerful. Commanding. It's like finding a $20 bill and realizing, you don't have to return it to anyone. And I like it. I think I like it too much.

It's got to stop. It's affecting others in horribly negative ways. Mom's beginning to believe that Souta is a delinquent now. She's beginning to believe that he's actually doing drugs. The drugs which mysteriously appear in hidden places in his bedroom. The drugs which he vehemently refuses to claim, as he "doesn't know how they got there" and "no, he's not even holding them for a friend."

But I know the truth. I know how they get there. Because I put them there. If only to put the focus on him. Because I'm starting to get accustomed to being unnoticed. I'm starting to crave the anonymity which before I so desperately wished to be free of. And without you here, there's nobody to pull me out of this whirlwind of depression that I'm falling into.

The funeral's tomorrow. It's supposed to be an open casket. I don't think I can handle it.


A/N: Seriously peeps? No reviews for Chapter 1? I know it's confusing now, but come on! Have a little faith! Awaiting reviews ... STILL!