Excess Luggage

Disclaimer: I'm fifteen. I'm a sophomore in high school. I'm an insane teenager. Do you really think I own Yu-Gi-Oh? If you answered yes, call your local shrink. If you answered no, please continue.

Warning: Abuse, abstract thinking, and bloodshed. Like the last, this ain't no Mary Poppins kiddie free-for-all.

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"I hear you talk about your family life. I wish I knew just what that means. I guess my mother never loved my dad and now I wear it on my sleeve…"

Some say that life is such a precious thing. That you should never abuse what could be taken away from you the next day and to appreciate all that's around you. I never saw the point in "loving life" deep down inside.

I'm good at acting like the world is covered in goodness and light. Any idiot could. But, the charade wears thin when all I see are the drab colors of death's waiting embrace. I see things in grayscale, the horizon shrouded in a creeping black of an irrevocable end.

Nobody can really see the pain I'm in. They're blind to the bruises and scrapes because I've made it so. I've made sure that my façade is unbreakable so that I won't receive any pity from my friends. Yet, they somehow know something wrong.

Unfortunately, I can't go to any of them for help. They've put their lives on the line several times before to try and free me of my burdens, yet they keep coming back. I, unlike others, have learned to bear my pain quietly.

Alas, it still hurts to see the others smile and laugh; their eyes alight with an enduring flame of life. I sit around and joke with them, but it feels cold and empty to me. I can never feel any real emotions, just muted tastes of such. Love, joy, warmth… They've all been placed up on a shelf that I can never hope to reach.

I know that the others try to make me feel welcome in their little circle, but I'm just a fifth wheel; along for the ride with no real place. No matter what they do, I know they don't really trust me.

Not that I blame them. I wouldn't trust anyone with a murderous alter ego either! And because of all of these things, I'm just in the way.

"My sister called me just the other day. It felt so good to hear her voice. My problem is I don't have much to say. I guess she doesn't have a choice and I'm sorry…"

I've survived another long day, surprise, surprise. I now sit at the kitchen table during my Biology homework when the phone rang, blazingly loud. I sighed and went to get it. "Bakura residence, Ryou speaking."

"Hey Ryou, it's Yugi."

I swallowed. No, not right now! I glanced around nervously, praying to God that my dark side wasn't around. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I- Well, you seemed kinda off in school today. Anything wrong?"

I shook my head before realizing the gesture went unseen. "No. Nothing's wrong at all." I brushed my bangs out of my face nervously. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Are you sure?" Yugi seemed a little unsure. "I saw that black eye, Ryou."

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips. I couldn't see the bruise! How could Yugi have seen it?! "I told you, I didn't sleep well."

"It was only one eye." Yugi's voice was dry.

"Who's that?"

I let out a cry of surprise and spun to face the imposing form of my darkness. "A friend from school. He was just asking for our History assignment." I was shaking uncontrollably. "I'll talk to ya later." I forced myself to stay casual and hung up the phone.

"I know you're lying, little Ryou. I can smell your fear." Bakura advanced on me. "Was that the little Moto twerp?"

I shook my head. "No. It was…" I was blanking out on a name. When nothing feasible came to mind, I dropped to the floor in a small ball. Another lesson I learned the hard way. When faced with a beating, lay down and take it.

I could hear Bakura snarled and started to rummage through the drawers. I glanced at the doorway. If I was quick, maybe I could get away. Maybe Yugi and his yami could help me one last time. I started a commando like crawl for the doorway.

"I don't think so."

I screamed as a knife sailed over my head and nearly wedged into my hand. I gazed back at my dark side and saw he was armed with an even large knife. Oh no! He… No! I curled up tightly, trying to protect myself best I could.

"That won't work, little one," Bakura sneered, hovering over me with the razor sharp knife gripped loosely over my head.

I whimpered and curled up as tight as I could. I could feel his need to kill me. The feeling was sharper than the stiletto hanging over me, clearer than anything I had ever felt before. The grayscale that I saw started to darken as I dared to look up at Bakura.

He grinned sadistically and dragged the knife's tip over my arm slowly.

The pain exploded like psycho fire works as warm blood trailed down my cold skin. I gasped raggedly as more of the cuts were made, each one a little farther down my arm and a little closer to my wrist. I tried to pull my arm away. "Please… I'm sorry!" I sobbed.

Bakura only laughed and spit at me.

I cried harder, fearing the worst as my dark side let my arm go. "S-stop… ple-ase!" I was shaking even worse than before. "I-It's was-" All of the sudden, I felt pain like I never had before as Bakura stabbed the knife into my leg. I started hyperventilating as I felt the cold steel run down to my knee.

I didn't dare touch the weapon when I heard Bakura move away, as he was right back by my side a second later. "Stop!" I yelled, choking on the word. Stars danced in front of my vision as my yami started cutting again.

He had the other knife.

I could feel the blood running everywhere, soaking everything deadly crimson. I gasped as the knife danced lightly over my wrist. "Don't-" I started choking, my throat constricted form crying. "Please!"

"The more you cry, the more I'll do it," Bakura taunted.

I bit my lip until it bled, feeling the cursed blade wreck my arms. As Bakura moved to my other arm, I could feel myself going numb. Yet, I could still sense the rivulets of blood trailing down my skin. The blood I had already shed was cold underneath me.

My grayscale vision started to darken completely. Tears started to mingle with the cuts Bakura started making on my cheeks but the pain of it all was muted as I slipped into an undertow of inky blackness.

"Look at me! I'm so pathetic. I can't believe I'm just an addict. I've never needed anyone to help me; I'm begging you to please come save me from myself, save me from my..."

The first thing I felt was something sticky holding me to the floor. I groaned and opened my eyes, which felt swollen. I looked around and nearly blacked out again. Blood, probably mine, had formed a hardened pool around me. I tried to move but pain from my legs made me stop.

I was afraid to look for the source, so I inspected my arms. I gasped as I saw the myriad cuts, each one leaking a small amount of blood from a swollen surface. My palms had deep gashes in them and I could see each of my finger bones through small slices.

I let my head hit the ground and I closed my eyes, my mind reeling as the knowledge of who did this broadsided me.

Bakura.

I remember he wanted to kill me. I could sense it over our bond and see it in his eyes when I dared to meet them. I started crying again, my matted, blood-soaked hair catching the salty liquid. With a small reserve of courage, I looked at my legs and saw two knives, one smaller than the other, lodged by my kneecaps. Long gashes ran down my outer thighs.

I gasped painfully and squeezed my eyes shut. I have to get out of here. I won't survive another attack like this.

I have to find help.

"I force myself through another day. Can't explain the way today just fell apart like everything; right in my face. And I try to be the one. I can't accept this all! Because of you I've had to walk away from everything."

I panted, feeling my leg wounds reopening from having to run. Black gnawed at my vision and I had to lean against the cool house until I didn't feel so disoriented. With a sigh, I meekly knocked on the door, praying I had done the right thing. When the door swung open, I managed a weak wave before I fell forward.

Yugi caught me and we fell to the floor a bit hard. "Ryou… What happened?!"

I tried to explain, but I could only cry as the fresh memories surfaced again. I clung to Yugi like he was a lifeline. "He… he tried to…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Oh no… GUYS!"

I could hear running. "What's- Oh my God. What happened?" Joey, no doubt.

"Just get the first aid kit out and clear the couch off," Yugi ordered.

"Yami's sleeping." Tristan.

"I don't care if you have to throw him out the back door! Clear the couch."

I tried to calm down and succeeded only minimally. I sat there, clinging to Yugi, feeling safe for the first time in several years.

I had finally found my place with people that loved me!

I was no longer excess baggage.

A/N: Please do yourselves a favor and never, ever ask where I get these psycho ideas from. Please. It's better for all of us.

Ryou: Bakura didn't try to kill me. YOU DID!

Yami: Don't feel bad. Out of the two of us, you got off easy.

Bakura::rolls eyes: Weaklings… :huffs: The lyrics used are property of Staind. The first three lines are off of "Me" and the last one is from "Home", both songs on the Dysfunction album. If ya ain't got it, get it!