Well, thanks to the three of you who reviewed! I got my friend Sarah to comment on it, and I guess that makes up for the seventeen reviews I didn't get. *sigh* ...this is written partly in school, partly at the orthodontist's office, and partly right now, at nearly midnight, directly into the computer. ...I am the goddess of angst. Ph33r meh. Rawr.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I awake with a jolt, not knowing where I am for a second. I look around to see a room bathed in pale moonlight. That's right, I was in your apartment, Malik. Glancing up I see your face near me.
"Malik? Is something wrong?" I ask, because you seem a little upset.
"No, nothing," you reply, and smile a bit. You may think you're convincing, but there's something not right about that smile, as if you're upset. What is it? But no, it's probably my imagination. I glance away and close my eyes, trying to fall back asleep.
I near you heave a sigh, and feel a light warm weight on my shoulders. It seems to be your cloak. I can sense you standing there, so I smile a bit, for your benefit, to show you I'm glad for the warmth.
'But I'd be happier if it were your arms rather than your cloak warming me,' a part of me wishes to say, but I keep it still. I admitted it to myself long ago that I loved you, but also swore to keep it secret. I can only begin to imagine your disgust if I ever dared to break that oath.
Does it hurt me, my love, keeping all these emotions bottled up inside, keeping my mask of the evil tomb robber on the outside? It hurts me more than words can express, but this is what I must do, to at least keep you with me.
Several minutes later I hear you walk out the door. I guess you're going to get some air. Come to think of it, some fresh air would to me good as well.
I stand, lightly folding your cloak, when I realize that it is probably quite cold. I throw the cloak over an arm, deciding that I should bring it to you.
The brisk night air hits me as I walk out the door. Where are you? How far could you have possibly gotten in five minutes?
I see you walking across an alley street a few minutes later. I stand still for a second and wonder what it is you could be so deep in thought about. Is your head plagued with thoughts of me as mine is with you? No, of course not. You are worrying about your plans, no doubt.
That second of hesitation, though, is the worst second of my life. A speeding car drives out of nowhere, heading straight towards you. No! I want to yell, but no sound comes out of me, and I am frozen, as is time. For an agonizing moment, time stands still. At the end, the car moves, knocking you down and running over you.
It drives off as if nothing happened. Finally able to move, I run to your side. Your eyes loosely gaze at my face, before they close.
"Malik… Malik… no…" I whisper, close to tears. Now that I am close I can see that the car nearly split you in two. My mind tells me that there is no hope that you will live, not unless a miracle occurs.
I cradle you in my arms. I can sense that you are still breathing, still alive. I brush a lock of bloodied hair away from your ear, and whisper quietly.
"I love you, Malik."
Your eyes flutter open for an instant, just long enough to glance at me, so that I can see in eyes what has been there all along. You nod a little, as if the gesture hurts, and close your eyes again.
I pull a cell phone out of my pocket, and dial an ambulance.
"911, what's your…"
"My friend has been run over by a car!" I shriek into the phone, telling the women where we are. She promises to send an ambulance over in a few minutes, and hangs up.
You lay motionless in my arms, and only a slight pulse assures me that you are still alive, though barely. My arms are covered in blood, your blood, so much blood. In five minutes I can hear the ambulance coming. The men come out of it and load you delicately onto a stretcher, shaking their heads.
I know that they are thinking the same thing I am, that there is no way you possibly survive this much blood loss. I get into the ambulance, and stand by as the paramedics "assess the damage." It's grim news they are going to tell me, I know.
We are at the hospital in minutes and you are taken to the emergency room. They sit me down in the waiting room, and tell me to wait. My Ra, this is not fair! I can't lose you, not now!
Fifteen minutes later, fifteen horrible, agonizing minutes, the doctor comes back into the room, face set in a permanent, strained smile.
"Mr. Bakura? I'm sorry, we can't save Mr. Ishtar. We are doing our best to keep him alive for a few more hours… I'm sure you'd like to say your goodbyes?"
My… what? Goodbye?! I can't do that, I can't just say goodbye to you! Through my inner turmoil, however, I manage a nod, and am led to a small hospital room. You lay there, with so many tubes connected to you, so many bandages. It almost breaks my heart to see you lie this, knowing that you have only a few hours left to live.
"Malik…" I start, the tears that had been threatening to fall for the past half hour finally rolling down my cheeks, "Hi…"
"Did you mean it?" you whisper hoarsely, turning your head a little to look at me. Someone has washed the blood from your golden hair, and you look as beautiful as ever.
"Did I… Yes. Yes I did. With all my heart," I choke out, now letting the tears flow freely as I sit on the stool at your bedside. This isn't fair… this so unfair…
"Good. …I love you, Bakura," you whisper back, smiling a little. The words I had wanted to hear on your lips for so long have finally come out, and I can barely force myself to sustain some happiness at that. It isn't fair that I lose you just as I've found you!
"I love your too, you know I do…" I start, and wrap my arms around you gently.
"I'm happy now," you whisper in your sweet voice, however cracked it may be, "Please tell them to take me off the life support. Or no… I don't want to force you to do that. I'm going to die now. I'm so sorry, but there's nothing we can do about it."
"What?!" I hiss, my tears soaking into your hair, "You can't!"
"I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. If there were anything else I could do, believe me I would do it. Goodbye. I'm be waiting…"
As I hold you, the last bits of life slip out, and I am left holding an empty shell. It is not you anymore, my love, it doesn't feel like you. "Goodbye, Malik…" I whisper and hesitantly untwine my fingers from your hair. I walk out the door, and shake my head at the doctor, trying to hide the water streaming down my face. How could you? How could you?!
Somehow, I find my way back to your apartment. I sit stiffly onto the couch, the tears having stopped by now. It doesn't seem like there are any more tears left to cry, which comes as no surprise. There shouldn't have been that many tears in me in the first place.
How could this happen? I keep asking myself, the first bits of guilt beginning to overtake grief. If I had simply confessed earlier, you would not have been out there in the first place, that car would have had nothing to hit. If I hadn't been so busy worrying about myself, about keeping your friendship, you would still be here in my arms.
I sit and think thoughts like this for a long time, until I can feel the sun creeping up my tear-stained face. Apparently, I was wrong. There were many more tears to cry, tears of grief, tears of anger, tears of guilt, and so many more.
Finally, I glance up at the luminous clock on the wall. Six thirty, in the morning, obviously. No, I can't live with this guilt, I just can't! Although I washed the blood off my hands so long ago, back in the waiting room, I can still feel it, it's still there. I need to get the skin off; I need to get the stains out!
I walk into the bathroom and take a razor. I force the blade out of its niche, and begin to peel away the skin on my left hand. It hurts, but the pain doesn't matter. It's so much better than the pain inside, I could take pain a million times worse than this. Finally, I get too close to my wrist. The blood begins to gush out, from the veins, from my fingers, even from the hand holding the razor. I stumble back onto the couch, both hands bleeding violently.
It's better than your blood, so much better. The sun in my eyes begins to swim and blur after a few minutes, and I know that it's the end. There's nothing anyone can do to save me, and I don't want to be saved. I want to be with you, I want to be happy, if not in life then in death.
This is my last thought. I want happiness. I love you, Malik, and there is nothing that can tear me away from you. Nothing. Wait for me Malik, I'm coming.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
*cries hysterically* Now, don't tell me you were expecting a happy ending! ...yup, this is the end. The very, very end. Bakura died, Malik died, and the world goes on. -_-;;..... yup, I am indeed the goddess of angst. Hope you .. um... had... fun? ...-.-;
-Alona
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I awake with a jolt, not knowing where I am for a second. I look around to see a room bathed in pale moonlight. That's right, I was in your apartment, Malik. Glancing up I see your face near me.
"Malik? Is something wrong?" I ask, because you seem a little upset.
"No, nothing," you reply, and smile a bit. You may think you're convincing, but there's something not right about that smile, as if you're upset. What is it? But no, it's probably my imagination. I glance away and close my eyes, trying to fall back asleep.
I near you heave a sigh, and feel a light warm weight on my shoulders. It seems to be your cloak. I can sense you standing there, so I smile a bit, for your benefit, to show you I'm glad for the warmth.
'But I'd be happier if it were your arms rather than your cloak warming me,' a part of me wishes to say, but I keep it still. I admitted it to myself long ago that I loved you, but also swore to keep it secret. I can only begin to imagine your disgust if I ever dared to break that oath.
Does it hurt me, my love, keeping all these emotions bottled up inside, keeping my mask of the evil tomb robber on the outside? It hurts me more than words can express, but this is what I must do, to at least keep you with me.
Several minutes later I hear you walk out the door. I guess you're going to get some air. Come to think of it, some fresh air would to me good as well.
I stand, lightly folding your cloak, when I realize that it is probably quite cold. I throw the cloak over an arm, deciding that I should bring it to you.
The brisk night air hits me as I walk out the door. Where are you? How far could you have possibly gotten in five minutes?
I see you walking across an alley street a few minutes later. I stand still for a second and wonder what it is you could be so deep in thought about. Is your head plagued with thoughts of me as mine is with you? No, of course not. You are worrying about your plans, no doubt.
That second of hesitation, though, is the worst second of my life. A speeding car drives out of nowhere, heading straight towards you. No! I want to yell, but no sound comes out of me, and I am frozen, as is time. For an agonizing moment, time stands still. At the end, the car moves, knocking you down and running over you.
It drives off as if nothing happened. Finally able to move, I run to your side. Your eyes loosely gaze at my face, before they close.
"Malik… Malik… no…" I whisper, close to tears. Now that I am close I can see that the car nearly split you in two. My mind tells me that there is no hope that you will live, not unless a miracle occurs.
I cradle you in my arms. I can sense that you are still breathing, still alive. I brush a lock of bloodied hair away from your ear, and whisper quietly.
"I love you, Malik."
Your eyes flutter open for an instant, just long enough to glance at me, so that I can see in eyes what has been there all along. You nod a little, as if the gesture hurts, and close your eyes again.
I pull a cell phone out of my pocket, and dial an ambulance.
"911, what's your…"
"My friend has been run over by a car!" I shriek into the phone, telling the women where we are. She promises to send an ambulance over in a few minutes, and hangs up.
You lay motionless in my arms, and only a slight pulse assures me that you are still alive, though barely. My arms are covered in blood, your blood, so much blood. In five minutes I can hear the ambulance coming. The men come out of it and load you delicately onto a stretcher, shaking their heads.
I know that they are thinking the same thing I am, that there is no way you possibly survive this much blood loss. I get into the ambulance, and stand by as the paramedics "assess the damage." It's grim news they are going to tell me, I know.
We are at the hospital in minutes and you are taken to the emergency room. They sit me down in the waiting room, and tell me to wait. My Ra, this is not fair! I can't lose you, not now!
Fifteen minutes later, fifteen horrible, agonizing minutes, the doctor comes back into the room, face set in a permanent, strained smile.
"Mr. Bakura? I'm sorry, we can't save Mr. Ishtar. We are doing our best to keep him alive for a few more hours… I'm sure you'd like to say your goodbyes?"
My… what? Goodbye?! I can't do that, I can't just say goodbye to you! Through my inner turmoil, however, I manage a nod, and am led to a small hospital room. You lay there, with so many tubes connected to you, so many bandages. It almost breaks my heart to see you lie this, knowing that you have only a few hours left to live.
"Malik…" I start, the tears that had been threatening to fall for the past half hour finally rolling down my cheeks, "Hi…"
"Did you mean it?" you whisper hoarsely, turning your head a little to look at me. Someone has washed the blood from your golden hair, and you look as beautiful as ever.
"Did I… Yes. Yes I did. With all my heart," I choke out, now letting the tears flow freely as I sit on the stool at your bedside. This isn't fair… this so unfair…
"Good. …I love you, Bakura," you whisper back, smiling a little. The words I had wanted to hear on your lips for so long have finally come out, and I can barely force myself to sustain some happiness at that. It isn't fair that I lose you just as I've found you!
"I love your too, you know I do…" I start, and wrap my arms around you gently.
"I'm happy now," you whisper in your sweet voice, however cracked it may be, "Please tell them to take me off the life support. Or no… I don't want to force you to do that. I'm going to die now. I'm so sorry, but there's nothing we can do about it."
"What?!" I hiss, my tears soaking into your hair, "You can't!"
"I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. If there were anything else I could do, believe me I would do it. Goodbye. I'm be waiting…"
As I hold you, the last bits of life slip out, and I am left holding an empty shell. It is not you anymore, my love, it doesn't feel like you. "Goodbye, Malik…" I whisper and hesitantly untwine my fingers from your hair. I walk out the door, and shake my head at the doctor, trying to hide the water streaming down my face. How could you? How could you?!
Somehow, I find my way back to your apartment. I sit stiffly onto the couch, the tears having stopped by now. It doesn't seem like there are any more tears left to cry, which comes as no surprise. There shouldn't have been that many tears in me in the first place.
How could this happen? I keep asking myself, the first bits of guilt beginning to overtake grief. If I had simply confessed earlier, you would not have been out there in the first place, that car would have had nothing to hit. If I hadn't been so busy worrying about myself, about keeping your friendship, you would still be here in my arms.
I sit and think thoughts like this for a long time, until I can feel the sun creeping up my tear-stained face. Apparently, I was wrong. There were many more tears to cry, tears of grief, tears of anger, tears of guilt, and so many more.
Finally, I glance up at the luminous clock on the wall. Six thirty, in the morning, obviously. No, I can't live with this guilt, I just can't! Although I washed the blood off my hands so long ago, back in the waiting room, I can still feel it, it's still there. I need to get the skin off; I need to get the stains out!
I walk into the bathroom and take a razor. I force the blade out of its niche, and begin to peel away the skin on my left hand. It hurts, but the pain doesn't matter. It's so much better than the pain inside, I could take pain a million times worse than this. Finally, I get too close to my wrist. The blood begins to gush out, from the veins, from my fingers, even from the hand holding the razor. I stumble back onto the couch, both hands bleeding violently.
It's better than your blood, so much better. The sun in my eyes begins to swim and blur after a few minutes, and I know that it's the end. There's nothing anyone can do to save me, and I don't want to be saved. I want to be with you, I want to be happy, if not in life then in death.
This is my last thought. I want happiness. I love you, Malik, and there is nothing that can tear me away from you. Nothing. Wait for me Malik, I'm coming.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
*cries hysterically* Now, don't tell me you were expecting a happy ending! ...yup, this is the end. The very, very end. Bakura died, Malik died, and the world goes on. -_-;;..... yup, I am indeed the goddess of angst. Hope you .. um... had... fun? ...-.-;
-Alona