::grins sadistically:: Prepare for violence. Lots of it.

Otogi: You need help.

No I don't. I am perfectly sane. ::glares:: Do the disclaimer. Now.

Otogi: Erato-sama owns nothing. The only thing Erato-sama owns is cheesecake and spaghetti.

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I hate him. I hate hate hate hate hate him. I despise him. He's so evil it disgusts me. He enjoys violence and pain it's terrifying. I loathe him. I hope he dies. I hope he's killed. Murdered. I want him to suffer all the pain he's put me through.

I want to be the cause of his pain. I want to kill him.

I want to hurt him so much. I want to hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt him! I want to hurt him until he can't feel! I want to break his bones. Hear him shriek with sheer pain. I want to slice his arms and see his bright red blood slowly stream down his pale skin and drip upon the ground. I want to burn his face and smell his disgusting charred flesh. I want to cripple him and torture him so much. I want to hurt him until he's numb and cannot feel the very knife that draws his blood.

I want to torture him until he can't feel. Then I want to yell in his ear. I want to shriek insults and tell him how horrible he is until he goes deaf. I want to scream obscene things at him, right in his face.  I want to tell him all the horrible things he's done to me. I want to yell until his ears go numb to the sound of my voice. Then I want to cut them off and wave them in front of his face and mock him.

I want to murder my own father.

Stop it! Stop looking at me like I need help! I have a good reason to want to kill my father!

Several reasons actually. One is because I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I HATE HIM! I – HATE – MY – FATHER!

Another is because he killed my mother. He murdered her the same way I want to murder him. He stole my knife. MY knife. The knife my mother gave me when I turned five and started my training. The knife I prided so much! The knife that was dipped in pure gold and sharp enough to slice through stone, the knife that was so deliciously dangerous, the knife that I loved. He sliced through her flesh with that knife. Her beautiful, soft, tan skin that comforted me through my ridiculous childhood, I saw it all too. I saw her frail body fall limply to the ground in a small heap. I saw her blood rain upon the dark desert sand. I saw her eyes glaze over like water turning into ice. I saw her take her final breaths of life.

I never, never, used that knife again; it was stained with her blood forever, so forever it stayed within a box under my pillow.

It all seemed like some horrible terrifying dream. I was supposed to wake up. Wake up! Wake up wake up wake up wake up! WAKE UP! But I didn't. I never woke up. It was real. It shouldn't have been real. She shouldn't have died. She was too young, too beautiful.

Indeed she was beautiful. She had eyes like the starry night sky and hair oh her hair was lovely. Her hair was white, pure white. So so so so white, and so so so so long! It made her seem so old and wise, but she was so young. So so so so young. Everything, everything, about her was beautiful. Her skin was so soft and so delicate; it was the most deliciously smooth skin. Soft as satin and silk, comforting as down pillows and warm tea. She was tall and thin and frail and strong all at the same time. She didn't even seem human at times; she seemed more like a goddess.

And my father took this all away from me, he took all of her beauty and calm away from me, but the worst part was: he didn't care. He didn't care. HE DIDN'T CARE! He didn't care that the only woman in my life was dead! He didn't care that he killed the only person he ever loved! The only person I ever loved! HE – DIDN'T – GIVE – A – DAMN! He didn't care that I cried myself to sleep for two years! He didn't care that her death had drove me to the edge of my sanity! He. . . didn't. . . care. . .  and he never will. He didn't have any guilt afterwards either; he went on with life like nothing happened. No remorse or anything.

I'll never forget the night it happened either. It was a beautiful night, but you could tell something aloof was happening. The air was sweet with the smell of fire and smoke, the sky was crystal clear and the moon shone more like opals than glowing stone. I had been looking for my mother for a while and finally found her, though I saw father yelling at her. He was angry. So I stayed where I was, just watching and listening. I had no clue what was going on. All I knew was that mother had somehow angered father.

I then saw a flash of gold, a splatter of blood, and the next thing I knew my mother was dead. Gone forever. Nothing was left of her. Only memories, but memories cannot be, are not in, the present. They are forever in the past, and in the past they'll forever stay.

"O – otou. . ." I whimpered, making myself known after minutes of silence.

Father walked up to me briskly and smacked me in the face, "Show some respect!" He snapped at me.

"Otousan," I said, "Why did you do that, Otousan?" I asked tears streaming down my face.

"It needed to be done," He snarled.

"Why?" I asked, "Why? Why why why why? WHY?!"

He smacked me again, "You don't need to know 'why'. All you need to know is how to be a thief. That is the reason I'm spending so much of my time training you isn't it?" He said to me nastily.

"Yes, Otousan," I replied miserably.

He then started walking back towards our home, shoving me as he did so, "Get out of my site," he growled as I fell to the ground.

I simply glared at his retreating back. Die. I thought. Die die die die die die DIE! I hate you Otou! I hate you I hate you I hate you I HATE YOU! I then started cursing him viciously in my thoughts. I hope you suffer a slow and painful death. No, I hope that on your judgment day that your heart weighs more than the feather of Ma'at and Ammit EATS YOU! I HATE YOU! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR CURSED FACE AGAIN! {A}

And so began my life of darkness and violence, the only hope that was ever in my life was my mother.

She was killed off.

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^^;; Gomen. Bad ending. . . very bad. I can't end chapters. . . it's a curse.

Explanations-

{A} – For those of you who only have read limited parts of the manga Ammit is kinda like . . .the  devil I guess. It's made up of the most feared animals in Egypt, the hippopotamus, crocodile, and the lion. And when you are "judged" a feather is placed on one side of a scale and a heart ("your" heart) is placed on the other. You are then asked a series of questions and so begin the judging process. If the side of the scale with your heart on it touches the ground then Ammit eats you, and when Ammit eats you, you're gone. Body and soul is eaten. You don't exist anymore.  (. . . I think I got that right, didn't I? Please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Oooo four reviews on one chapter! (It says 4 but for some reason evil ff.net will only let me see two! CURSE YOU FF.NET! Therefore I will only be able to respond to two of the four reviews.) That's the most I've ever gotten for a chapter! . . . I think.

ARIGATO REVIEWERS!

Kazukohiroshi – Thanks for the info! I haven't read much of the manga (I'm reading the English manga cuz I can't speak Japanese ^^; and Yami Bakura hasn't entered yet.) so I don't know much about the characters other than what I know of them from the dubbed anime. I'm not sure if it'll make my writing this story easier or harder. . .

Kahtiihma - ^_^ Thank you! I'm glad you like it.

What shall happen next time? Who knows? Not me that's for sure. . .