Authoress's Note:

1. Don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh" or "Behind Blue Eyes."

2. I decided to post two chapters so I could get the chapter options.

3. This is on the upside of PG-13. It's got a little mention of blood and death, but it leaves a lot to your imagination. Honestly, if you cringe at the word "blood," beware. This is not violent. It is only a brief statement.

4. Please enjoy the story and if you like, give me input. Thanks. : - )

"No one knows what it's like
To be hated,
To be fated
To telling only lies…"

- the Who

            They say that on the day I was born, there was a great blizzard. It was the month of June, the fifteenth in fact, and blizzards just didn't happen. The winds rose when my mother started her labor and even our great manor threatened to buckle under its strength. My father and grandfather had poured their lifeblood into the mortar that held the house together when they came over.

            Though I was not yet born, I can see everything that happened on that day. In the great hall where there were paintings of all of those in my family, a wind swept up and shook their frames. My older sister told me that she heard wailing in her sleep. As she stepped into the hall, the forms in the pictures contorted and looked like they were in great pain. Her twin sister went out into the hall moments after her. Gabrielle and Muriel stood there for a few minutes.

            In the far window, a figure was forming. It was too dark to describe his features, Gabrielle told me. She remembered him walking toward them with a slow, steady stride. She couldn't move and there were strange symbols in gold flashing over the walls. In the next instant Muriel died, her features etched in fear. Gabrielle let out a sharp scream and Nathan, our oldest brother, drove the stranger back into Hell.

            When I was born, my grandfather was brutally murdered by a servant who called himself Blue. He was a very strange young boy, about ten years older than I, and he had hair and eyes that matched his name. He carved his name into the corpse and there was blood all over the walls. My mother screamed when she saw it.

            Blue was smart enough not to stick around after he did it.

            My birth was bloodless, and I was pale and smooth as I was held up to her. Most eyes of young children are blue, but mine were amber resin. The hair coming out of my head was pure white; the midwife thought I was dead until I moved ever-so-slightly.

            Not even my beloved Cynthia could repress a shudder when I touched her in the end, and that was after I made an effort to be like everyone else. Perfection always startles, don't you think? It might even be the reason why I am sitting in this cell with hundreds of fresh pages waiting for me to fill them.

            He came past the cell while I was writing; I felt him even before I saw him. He is waiting out there for me. I don't know what he wants, but I hear his silent commands in my head. He bids me close the book and surrender to him. There is someone with him, a shadow standing right behind him. I caught a flash of blue when the cloak moved.

            It might be the time of my death now, before I am even done with my confession. Maybe it is too late for me to live.