Insanity Policy
By: Atomic Kokoro
Storyline
Black Star is imprisioned in the DWMA prision. And there's a good reason. Everyone thinks he's gone insane. Truth is, he's not. He has Black Blood coursing through his veins, triggering his evil self to appear at random times.
It isn't long before he stumbles apon three boys, two best friends and one a teenage brother, who says he's older then he looks. Black Star agrees to help their friend return to his normal age, if they help him get rid of the Black Blood.
Things go well... until a man named Vegeta reveals a shocking secret about the Star Clan...
...
Before You Read
Last chapter went great! I luved it. (sorry. I'm obessesed with luved now.) Sorry that entire fight scene was missed, but never fear! There will be more! YAY!
BLACK STAR: That's right, and I'll win them all! HAHAHAHA!
ME: Only if I feel like it.
GOHAN: Burn, Black Star! Burn!
ME: Keep up that attutude, Gohan, and you ain't winnin' no battles.
GOHAN: Yes, Ma'am.
ME: X3
On with the story!
...
Chapter 2
The Blackest Pain
I couldn't believe it.
I was being held prisioner at my own school. Something was controlling me, but they simply dismissed it and called me insane. That I had moments when my judgement twisted and spoiled into a rotten intention to hurt and kill anything.
But I knew it wasn't me.
There was something in me that took over my body and used me as a puppet to destory and kill until it's content, leaving me to suffer the consequences. What was it? I wanted to know so badly, tell them what was wrong with me, have them fix it. Then, I could get free, make my amends, and get back to normal life.
Which left me to remember that Tsubaki was in the hospital now. Because of me and that little thing inside my body. I learned that she touched my shoulder and I used my Soul Wavelength to send her flying into a wall and attacked full force. It took the group a few seconds to comprehend that I had been attacking my own partner, and, by the time they realized it, I had almost killed her.
I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but, one, they wouldn't let me out, and two, she wouldn't even hear me. I told Soul almost everything (but the dark room and black light), and he said he would tell Tsubaki for me. He was the only person in the world who would understand where I was coming from.
Maka was pretty ticked off at me, so she didn't bother speaking to me, Tsubaki couldn't talk, since she was in a coma (go figure), Patty and Liz were afraid of me, they wouldn't let Crona near me, and Kid... well... I guess he just wanted stay away from me.
I hadn't slept, eaten, moved, anything since I got here, which was a few weeks ago. I was trapped in a cell similler to the one Medusa had been locked in. My head rested against the wall, my legs stretched but not fully, my palms firm against the ground. My neck and shoulders ached, my back was stiff, my leg were sore, but it didn't hurt. The pain of knowing I had hurt my girlfriend overwhelmed even the dark spirit that held me hostage in the dark room.
My days were spent staring at the wall in front of me, my back to the door, I on the left side from the door facing the back. I was close to the backwall, my feet only a few inches away from the wall in front of me.
I slightly crossed my arms, my hands supporting my elbows. The first movement I made in weeks.
The door behind me opened. I didn't move, wince, flinch, or change my breathing rate. I was still as stone. I listened as the gental footsteps of someone approched me from behind. "Haven't moved a bit, have you?" said the soft, calm voice of Soul.
I didn't reply. Soul sat beside me and stared at the wall with me. We were silent for a moment, seconds being spent like money we had enough of. Again, he spoke, "You know, Tsubaki's awake now."
I felt my breathing rate change and I flinch very visably. "There we go," he smiled. "you moved for the first time."
Then, he frowned. "Is that news good enough for you to do something? Anything?"
I didn't reply, but the tears that rolled down my cheeks told him that I wanted to tell her I was sorry.
"I think she would be happy if you ate at least a little bit. She says she feels bad that you aren't eating, or even moving."
"..."
"Dude, this isn't cool."
"..."
Soul sighed and stared at the wall. After five minutes, he stood up. "I don't know how you can do that for two months," he muttered, then turned and left. He came back several minutes later with some soup from the cafeteria. "Eat."
He dipped the spoon in the soup and brought it to my lips. "I'm not going to stop until I get a responce from you."
I stared at the wall. I wanted him to leave me alone, but he insisted. In truth, I was starving, but I hadn't known it until I could smell the soup. It was tomato soup. Nice and hot.
I began to wonder if I had known I was hungry. What if I had been punishing myself subconsciously by not moving, eating, speaking even? What if I wanted the pain of hunger to drown out the pain of my broken heart, my guilt? What if I wanted to watch myself suffer under these conditions? I was unsure of myself suddenly. I needed to think.
I drifted into thoughts, so deep and painful, I had forgotten that Soul was there, trying to baby feed me. When I brought myself back to Earth, Soul was gone. He left the bowl of soup at my side in case I had found inner peace now that I knew Tsubaki was most likely to be okay. I turned my head to look at the bowl. It was still hot, and the smell was overpowering. I looked at my arms and realized I had grown weaker, and I was possibly underweight.
I remembered how smooth and creamy the soup was when it went down my throat. How it would warm my stomach. It was the only smell the dark, cold cell. I remembered how Tsubaki always made me tomato soup when I was sick. That was the taste I remembered. How it looked, how it smelled, how it tasted; that was what I remembered.
And it was then I realized that soup had been made by Tsubaki.
...
Two more months passed. Again, no movement. I didn't sleep, because I was afraid of my nightmares. I didn't eat, because it brought back the memories I missed. I didn't move, because I was afraid to go insane.
Soul often visited me, and Maka eventually came the passed two weeks. She said Soul told her that I never spoke to him, or to anyone, so she didn't feel I hated her because I was silent. She said she was worried about my condition. My clothes had gotten too big for myself. I refused to move change my clothes.
I chuckled inwardly when she said I was beginning to look like Crona.
My hair had grown longer, only a bit, so she cut my hair. I don't know why. Maybe she liked it better when it was short the way it was. The way she was used to. She tried to feed me like Soul did. I didn't respond any better to her then I did Soul. Eventually, she gave up, and only came to tell me about her day, because I was the only who seemed to really listen.
I didn't know what I wanted. But I guess I did at the same time. Blinking, I recalled the faint memory of when I had been first locked up in this room...
...
Sid tossed me foreward into the room roughly. I stumbled and fell to my hand and knees. I heard the door shut behind me and I spun and cried out when all I could see was darkness. "No!" I screamed and threw myself against the door, pounding and demanding to be released.
There was no responce from the other side of the door, so I slammed my shoulder into the door multiple times, even after I dislocated it.
I felt so isolated, so distrusted and betrayed. Or that I had betrayed?
I fell to my knees in the corner I sit in now, and sobbed. I cried for days and nights on end, until I stopped one day. Just stopped. Stopped moving, breathing, crying. I stopped.
I stopped. But I did more then just stop moving, eating, breathing, crying. I stopped believing. I stopped wishing. I stopped dreaming. I stopped hoping.
I stopped doing what I did everyday...
...
That's why I didn't move. Why I didn't eat. Why I bearly breathed. It was that moment I went into a state of shock. Or was I already in shock?
It had to be then both Maka and Soul entered the room. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and they shimmered in the reflection of the light from the wall. "Black Star? What's wrong?" Maka asked as soon as she noticed I was crying.
My dry lips parted and my voice, cracked and coarse, and my tongue, torrid and tired, simplized the most deepest, painfulest words that could've ever been spoken: "I can't love anymore."
