I Was A Bad Person Once Chapter 2: No, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Lies

A strange warbling filled her ears as she felt the sensation like the buzzing of summer bees around her, she shook her head slightly unable to look away from the blank page as her eyes roamed back and forth.

Lies

Familyoffourvictimsto, hotsohot hot, hot and she couldn't breathe and

It wasn't right

Nothing, nothing, nothing here

Familyoffourvictims to -

"Are you listening to me dear?" a hand settled on her shoulder and she suppressed a shudder as she looked up at the therapeutic art director who was smiling down so pleasantly.

She had only picked up on every other word the woman had said but she smiled and nodded earning approval as the therapeutic art director swept past her heading around the room cyclically like a dancing marionette. "Now, examine yourself. Think about yourself; think about your feelings and what exists deep within you. Don't be afraid to commit it to the canvas and...feel." she emphasized. She looked at the woman. She was a tall thin female, with curly blonde hair just beginning to show wisps of white age, tugged up in a ponytail she graced around them. Face showing an age that hid somewhere between a depressed thirty and an exuberant 50. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Her maxi dress was a deep brown that did not reveal its cost or weathered nature, around her neck was a low hanging gem that had rings like a tree swimming out from a tawny yellow to a deep wood. "See everything, examine everything, don't be afraid to really take each piece apart and really catalogue it.", she clasped her hands together as she smiled at them, slight lines around her eyes emphasizing her withering while her eyes sparked like the sun hitting dew droplets on leaves. She looked happy. She looked supportive. She looked calm. Even as she walked amongst all this madness and human oddity she looked at peace.

She couldn't decide whether she liked her or not.

She put down her paint brush and sighed.

Art therapy.

Diary keeping.

Group therapy.

Hypnosis.

She shook her head, all that effort and it didn't seem like any of them were any healthier than they had ever been. "Very good Samantha!" she heard the enthused congratulations as the girl with the orange bob bowed her head a pleased smile attempting to find refuge in her shirt. She arched an eyebrow and looked around the room. Some of the others were listlessly swirling their paint brushes on paper, the others eagerly trying to uncover the source of their deficiency, rubbing bristle furiously on paper as if they were sweeping away the frost which hid their secrets. One did not pick up his brush at all staring at the page but never really seeing it.

She sighed. She had been here too many times before. Seen this same play to the point where the mechanics of the background held more interest than any of the major characters. She wondered whether the art director was really happy with her job. Whether when she slipped on her maxi dress and pulled her hair into that ponytail she had regrets on her chosen career. Whether she had a man in her life or somehow in the course of career and determination a mate had slipped through her fingers. House or an apartment. She turned lifting her hands to emphasize a point and she wondered whether those hands wiped away tears or failed to shield her laughter in the company of her closest friends.

Ugh.

She looked up at the ceiling trying to keep from groaning aloud as she closed her eyes sighing deeply. "Fascinating Malik." she heard her breath and she turned her head. The tone was a little bit different, a little bit more earnest than she was used to and she saw her standing next to him. Instantly her lips twisted into a frown. That weirdo. "Now what do we have here?" she asked gesturing to a corner where a bright flash of gold which shone through darkness and what appeared to be weathered stone. He considered it for a moment before speaking.

"Home.", he said finally as the woman nodded tapping her finger against her chin. "Fascinating.", she said again and turned to him. "Now try and figure out what you mean by that."

He frowned as he watched her walk away. "What do you mean...its home..." he trailed off before he could finish his sentence and then shook his head. She studied the puzzled look on his face and watched as it transformed to something of mild annoyance. He glanced around the room and in a moment their eyes locked as he smiled and lifted his hand waving to her. She quickly looked down pretending to be working even as an attendant stepped into the room and motioned to the art director that her time was over.

"Well, okay everyone." she said clapping her hands together as she looked around the room. "I think we've made some great progress today." Liar. "Hold onto the feelings you've uncovered today and I'll see you again next Monday." she waved smiling at them warmly. She leaned forward soundlessly smacking her head against the canvas. God...someone save her from this bullshit.

She stood up shaking her head as she headed towards the attendant where they were supposed to line up and leave their 'important' discoveries behind. She got in line folding her hands over her chest and instantly got a sharp look from another attendant. "For fuck's sake." she muttered under her breath dropping her hands. "Hands at your side, open palms, you know it.", he said steely eyes glaring at her as she casually looked him up and down. Brawny and tall, she could see the muscles beneath his shirt pressed tightly against the material of his uniform. Oh yes...all 100 of her lbs. would be so deadly to him. She took in a deep breath. "Sorry yeah."

"Hi Dwai." she heard a cheerful voice behind her and looked over her shoulder as she saw Malik standing there. "No." "What was your painting of?' he asked as if he hadn't heard her. "No.", she said again shaking her head and looking around for refuge from the new loony. "That lady...she said paint something that had meaning, something that was deep inside ourselves...and I did and then she - ", he made a face demonstrating how bizarre he thought she was. She turned around pointing straight at him.

"Let me help you with something Malik. This thing you're trying to create...no.", she said again emphasizing the single word as his eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?" She stared at him blankly for a moment. "I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to hang out with you, and I don't want to be your friend...no", she said annoyed. His jaw dropped slightly. "I was just -" "Yeah, I know...don't."

"No talking, all patients facing the front.", the guard who had called her earlier said deeply and she turned slowly ignoring his gaze on her as he quickly scanned the line and then nodded waving to another guard who slowly opened the door as they were allowed to shuffle out. As soon as she broke the boundary of the room she marched out putting as much space between her and Malik as possible.

...

Slowly she swirled her spoon around the mashed potatoes as she washed the fluffy white yield and bend almost ignoring what she did because it looked exactly the same no matter what her spoon did. "Ugh...this can't be good for my mental state...its like the potatoes are testing me." "Did you pass?" a voice asked as she heard the soft clatter of a tray on the table and looked up to see Malik smiling at her. "Didn't I tell you not to talk to me?" she demanded.

"Yeah...and I would but...you're the only person who actually...talks." he said sheepishly and she nodded as she pushed the peas around her plate. "Yeah...I've noticed that." "So did you pass?" he asked curiously and she frowned at him. "Pass what?" suspicion wrapped around the question and she abandoned the mashed potatoes with disgust. "Drawing our minds, painting our...existence." he breathed mocking the voice of the Art Director. "I mean...I figured that was a test...separate the dangerous loonies from the non-dangerous ones."

She chose to ignore him annoyance pricking at the edges of her consciousness.

"So...what are you here for?" he asked curiously.

"I ask myself that every day." a sigh.

"So what are you here for?" she asked glancing up at him.

He turned his head and for a moment he seemed more concrete, less of an idol or some tragic playboy and merely human. "Hmmm.", he sounded out eyes focusing on the gleam of sunlight bouncing off the floor. He waited so long she assumed he wasn't going to tell her and she carefully poked the chicken which was a bit on the gray side but did smell good. "They said..." he began and she slid a piece into her mouth chewing slowly.

Eh...not bad.

"They said I killed my Father.", and he looked straight at her then, his lavender eyes reflecting a light from within.

She held her breath.

And then he smiled.