SYMPATHY FOR THE FORSAKEN
A fic by Reina De Corazons
PROLOGUE
Disclaimer: Now yall kno I don't own not a hell not a thang.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You know how some people say 'life's a bitch, and then you die'? Well,
let's just say, they seriously have no fucking clue
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I spun the chamber of the gun, snapping it shut. I looked down at the scrap of metal in my hands, rasing it.
I sighed, closing my eyes. I almost wanted to laugh as I thought about my situation. I peered to the right, towards the gun aimed at my temple.
'This is it, this is the one,' I thought. 'I can feel it.'
Once again, I almost wanted to laugh, but instead, a smirk crossed my delicate lips as I looked straight ahead, not even blinking as I pulled the trigger. *click* I moaned.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I slammed the gun down on the table before me for the third time that day. I placed my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands, rubbing my throbbing temples. I just knew that this time would be the one..
"Playing Russian Roulette with yourself, again, I see." I didn't even bother to turn around. In a split second I had once again swiftly snatched the gun from the table into my right hand, aiming it right behind me.
"At ease soldier."came the damned arrogant voice again. Well, I do declare. It sounds as if they're mocking me. Hmm....This guy has balls. Unfortunately,..he's about to lose them.
I adjusted my head slightly so that I could look behind me. I smirked once more as I gazed upon the young man who had the great misfortune to come face to face with the barrel of my gun.
"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked calmly, the grip I had on my gun never wavering. I merely blinked at my intruder, and the bored look he had on his face. I sighed again. Why,why,why? Why God, why have you forsaken me? Why can't you just let me die in peace? Then we can all go on about our merry little lives, or, after life, as I rot and burn in hell! *sigh*
"Godammit girl, put the damn gun down. Why do we go through this EVERY time I come over?!" My hostage bellowed at me. I simply lowered the gun, still keeping my gaze on him. He stared right back at me, directly into my eyes. Gods, I hated it when he did that. It was like he was looking INTO me, instead of AT me. Ugh. Damn him.
I turned my head back around and laid the gun back down on the table. I knew it pissed him off when I didn't talk. It always has. Kami-sama, why did I decide to be with this,this...boy in the first place?! He didn't know it, but I knew he was always cheating on me with younger girls. Even though we're both 15. I guess I stayed with him just for the sheer benefit of being with somebody. Hell, nobody else cared about me. Atleast he held a small slither of affection towards me.
I finally snapped out of my train of thought to realize that he was talking to me. He had taken a seat at the table across from me. How he got into my house in the first place is beyond me.
"...always do this? It seems like every time I come over you're finding new ways to commit suicide. Why do you do this Russian Roulette thing, anyways? I-" "I do it for the thrill." I cut him off. I stared at the questioning look on his face. "The thrill that maybe, just maybe the gods will have mercy on me and let there be a bullet in the chamber aimed for my head. That's why I do it." I stopped talking. I was still staring at him. He blinked and then suddenly the questioning look was gone. He sat there, emotionless as always. Hmph.
When I said he was my boyfriend, I forgot to mention the he was also my, 'partner in crime' I guess you could say. We've been through a lot of shit together but hell, he's a snake. He's sweet and all, sure, when he wants to be. He's treated me better than any one else in my goddamned life. But like I said, a snake.....There's no way around it.
"Well, I just wanted to drop by, you know, check and see if you're still alive." He said monotonously as he got up, walking for the door. 'You're the only one that would,' I thought, as I heard the door shut.
You wanna know something about my life? Its hell on earth and I hate everything. The ones I loved betrayed me, and my dad is crazy and needs to be put out of his misery. My mother died a while back, she killed herself and left me with the beast I call my father. Sick bastard.
I was barely at home, after school I would go over someone's house and most of the time sleep there for the night. I'd only come home to get food and clean clothes. When I do, I would find my father asleep on the couch infront of the TV, with a bottle of vodka in one hand and the other in his pants. 'Poor Bastard', I'd think. I would then leave to my boyfriend Shawn's house. You know, the nice guy who loves to grace me with his presence every once in a while, just to see if I'm alive? I suppose you might want a better description or explanation of my life or whatever, huh? Well, I live on Oklahoma, a very ghetto part of Oklahoma. You see, we used to live in Japan, but we had to move here thanks to my dads job. That's when my mom killed herself. I guess she was depressed, or something.
Anyways, my father had started drinking (more) afterwards, and that's when I realized it wasn't safe for me to hide out at home anymore.
When I say hiding out I mean, well, that's exactly what I mean. Leat's just say I have been affectionately dubbed 'sticky fingers'. Heh, nothing like a 5-finger dicount.
I got up and walked out the kitchen, stopping in my bedroom to get some money from my secret stash, a loose floorboard by my bed. It's the only place I can hide anything from my father. I grabbed my pocketknife from behind my pillow, yes, my pillow, and stuffed it in my bra.
I walked back through the kitchen, grabbing the gun off the table. I stuck it in my jeans and walked out the door.
I suppose you want to hear more? Well, too damn bad. Nah, I'm just playing. I guess I could tell you a couple more things about my life. The reason I walk around with a pocketknife and a gun, is one, you can't trust anybody around here, and two, I do some pretty dirty business, so it's just a little crucial that I carry protection with me wherever I go, got it?
Anyways, all my friends I used to roll with when I first got here turned into royal bitches and decided I wasn't good enough for them. Ugly ass ho's. I heard one of them has AIDS now,and anothers pregnant. Shit, and I'M not good enough for THEM? Oh yeah.
Well, like I said, I hate everything and everyone around me. So, I decided
to leave.
Leave for good.
Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to mention. My name, it's Meiling Li.
~*~ A sinners mind is their sanctum. ~*~
A fic by Reina De Corazons
PROLOGUE
Disclaimer: Now yall kno I don't own not a hell not a thang.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You know how some people say 'life's a bitch, and then you die'? Well,
let's just say, they seriously have no fucking clue
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I spun the chamber of the gun, snapping it shut. I looked down at the scrap of metal in my hands, rasing it.
I sighed, closing my eyes. I almost wanted to laugh as I thought about my situation. I peered to the right, towards the gun aimed at my temple.
'This is it, this is the one,' I thought. 'I can feel it.'
Once again, I almost wanted to laugh, but instead, a smirk crossed my delicate lips as I looked straight ahead, not even blinking as I pulled the trigger. *click* I moaned.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I slammed the gun down on the table before me for the third time that day. I placed my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands, rubbing my throbbing temples. I just knew that this time would be the one..
"Playing Russian Roulette with yourself, again, I see." I didn't even bother to turn around. In a split second I had once again swiftly snatched the gun from the table into my right hand, aiming it right behind me.
"At ease soldier."came the damned arrogant voice again. Well, I do declare. It sounds as if they're mocking me. Hmm....This guy has balls. Unfortunately,..he's about to lose them.
I adjusted my head slightly so that I could look behind me. I smirked once more as I gazed upon the young man who had the great misfortune to come face to face with the barrel of my gun.
"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked calmly, the grip I had on my gun never wavering. I merely blinked at my intruder, and the bored look he had on his face. I sighed again. Why,why,why? Why God, why have you forsaken me? Why can't you just let me die in peace? Then we can all go on about our merry little lives, or, after life, as I rot and burn in hell! *sigh*
"Godammit girl, put the damn gun down. Why do we go through this EVERY time I come over?!" My hostage bellowed at me. I simply lowered the gun, still keeping my gaze on him. He stared right back at me, directly into my eyes. Gods, I hated it when he did that. It was like he was looking INTO me, instead of AT me. Ugh. Damn him.
I turned my head back around and laid the gun back down on the table. I knew it pissed him off when I didn't talk. It always has. Kami-sama, why did I decide to be with this,this...boy in the first place?! He didn't know it, but I knew he was always cheating on me with younger girls. Even though we're both 15. I guess I stayed with him just for the sheer benefit of being with somebody. Hell, nobody else cared about me. Atleast he held a small slither of affection towards me.
I finally snapped out of my train of thought to realize that he was talking to me. He had taken a seat at the table across from me. How he got into my house in the first place is beyond me.
"...always do this? It seems like every time I come over you're finding new ways to commit suicide. Why do you do this Russian Roulette thing, anyways? I-" "I do it for the thrill." I cut him off. I stared at the questioning look on his face. "The thrill that maybe, just maybe the gods will have mercy on me and let there be a bullet in the chamber aimed for my head. That's why I do it." I stopped talking. I was still staring at him. He blinked and then suddenly the questioning look was gone. He sat there, emotionless as always. Hmph.
When I said he was my boyfriend, I forgot to mention the he was also my, 'partner in crime' I guess you could say. We've been through a lot of shit together but hell, he's a snake. He's sweet and all, sure, when he wants to be. He's treated me better than any one else in my goddamned life. But like I said, a snake.....There's no way around it.
"Well, I just wanted to drop by, you know, check and see if you're still alive." He said monotonously as he got up, walking for the door. 'You're the only one that would,' I thought, as I heard the door shut.
You wanna know something about my life? Its hell on earth and I hate everything. The ones I loved betrayed me, and my dad is crazy and needs to be put out of his misery. My mother died a while back, she killed herself and left me with the beast I call my father. Sick bastard.
I was barely at home, after school I would go over someone's house and most of the time sleep there for the night. I'd only come home to get food and clean clothes. When I do, I would find my father asleep on the couch infront of the TV, with a bottle of vodka in one hand and the other in his pants. 'Poor Bastard', I'd think. I would then leave to my boyfriend Shawn's house. You know, the nice guy who loves to grace me with his presence every once in a while, just to see if I'm alive? I suppose you might want a better description or explanation of my life or whatever, huh? Well, I live on Oklahoma, a very ghetto part of Oklahoma. You see, we used to live in Japan, but we had to move here thanks to my dads job. That's when my mom killed herself. I guess she was depressed, or something.
Anyways, my father had started drinking (more) afterwards, and that's when I realized it wasn't safe for me to hide out at home anymore.
When I say hiding out I mean, well, that's exactly what I mean. Leat's just say I have been affectionately dubbed 'sticky fingers'. Heh, nothing like a 5-finger dicount.
I got up and walked out the kitchen, stopping in my bedroom to get some money from my secret stash, a loose floorboard by my bed. It's the only place I can hide anything from my father. I grabbed my pocketknife from behind my pillow, yes, my pillow, and stuffed it in my bra.
I walked back through the kitchen, grabbing the gun off the table. I stuck it in my jeans and walked out the door.
I suppose you want to hear more? Well, too damn bad. Nah, I'm just playing. I guess I could tell you a couple more things about my life. The reason I walk around with a pocketknife and a gun, is one, you can't trust anybody around here, and two, I do some pretty dirty business, so it's just a little crucial that I carry protection with me wherever I go, got it?
Anyways, all my friends I used to roll with when I first got here turned into royal bitches and decided I wasn't good enough for them. Ugly ass ho's. I heard one of them has AIDS now,and anothers pregnant. Shit, and I'M not good enough for THEM? Oh yeah.
Well, like I said, I hate everything and everyone around me. So, I decided
to leave.
Leave for good.
Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to mention. My name, it's Meiling Li.
~*~ A sinners mind is their sanctum. ~*~
