*waves* Hiya. This is just a small disclaimer saying that, well, much to my own dismay I do NOT own Gundam Wing, nor its characters, names, likenesses, yada yada yada... Ah but what fun it would be to own it, eh? Having your own army of mentally unstable teenagers to run rampages across the planet with *Starry eyes* Ah...
A guys gotta dream, you know.
Anyways now that the disclaimers done, here's a couple of warnings.
This Fic will be HEAVILY Angsty, it deals with depression, self-injury, and all the lovely little taboos of insanity. There will be coarse language and perhaps a few graphic scenes here and there, but that comes later once I update.
This is a NON-Yaoi Fic, got nothing against Yaoi, but it's just not my bag.
Ok now that all that stupid stuffs out of the way, onto the actual uh... Prologue I guess 'cause it's too damn short to be a chapter. PLEASE Review!
* * * * *
A drop of blood spilt to the floor, I watched it spin gracefully through the air, it seemed to be moving so slow, but then again everything moved slow anymore. The small red bead reached the ground and exploded with a ~ploink~ into the growing puddle, then another dripped, and another, I watched for what felt like days, as each drop added to the small pool of my blood resting on the tile. I laughed then, long, loud, and hysterical laughter echoing through an empty house. I don't know why I laughed, there was no humor in the sound, instead there was an edge of desperation, of insanity... Nothing was funny, nothing was bringing me joy, happiness, nothing was giving me anything but a wish that the blood on the floor was leaking from my wrists, but I couldn't stop, the laughter kept coming and screaming my insanity for all the world to hear, and when the laughter stopped, the tears came.
Yeah, isn't that just magical. Crying yet again. That's all I could seem to find it in me to do, cry tears laced with tortured screams. Weep and scream for hours, sometimes days, on end, never stopping until my voice was nothing more then a hoarse croak emanating from shattered vocal cords. Cry until there was nothing left to cry and the tears simply ran dry, leaving my body wracked with bone breaking sobs. They had to be bone breaking, 'cause the Valium and whiskey had been gone for days and the searing ache in my rib cage wouldn't seem to go away. Searing... Like my mind... God it just wouldn't leave me alone, that voice... Always the voice in my head, screaming at me forever... Another sob wracked through my broken ribs, snapping me from my reverie, bringing me back to the cold, hard, tile floor of my bathroom. The blood was still flowing freely from my arm.
Damn it, that ones deep, definitely going to need stitches... I sighed, audibly, and let the bloody razor slip from my trembling fingers. Pulling my body up to the counter, I was confronted by the same stranger that always seemed to await me behind that glass, the face that never ceased to bring out the very depths of my anger, hatred, and confusion, the face of a man I used to be. Ignoring him, I picked up an adjunct bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured a large amount onto the gaping cut. I watched, transfixed, as the liquid bubbled and hissed among the blood, but something was wrong, I could see what was happening but something was missing. I couldn't feel it burn, I couldn't feel the ache of the cut, the ache I knew was there, screaming unto deaf ears its tales of agony, the agony of having been ripped apart so violently... I knew it was there but I just couldn't feel the pain... I felt so fucking... empty...
"Soldiers don't feel pain." A voiceless monotone spoke
"Shut up..." I whispered hoarsely
"Pathetic boy, what's wrong with you?" It mocked
"I said shut up!" I spat, concentrating on the task of dressing the wound, after all this damn time the instinct never faded away, I always dressed my wounds. I concentrated harder, trying to block out that voice, though I knew it was pointless... It never shut up, it was always there, always mocking, always berating me. It was the voice of my madness.
"You never learn." Came that same monotone, "Look at me."
"No..."
"Look at me!" It shouted
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I screamed, glaring hotly at the smooth reflective surface before me, wishing for once I'd see the person I was. To see the ratty, unwashed brown hair I knew covered my head, to see the hollow, sunken eyes and dark bags beneath them contrasting with my sickly pale skin. Just once... I wanted to see my own grotesquely thin face in that goddamn mirror... But I was never there... It was always him.
"You're pathetic! The great Gundam pilot, savior of Earth itself, sunk so low." Mocking... He was always mocking me... "Sad, sad boy, so pathetic. Do you see what you've become without me? Without my guidance?"
"Why... Why won't you ever just shut up?!" I cried, locking eyes with my "reflection," and pouring every ounce of my soul deep hatred out into those fucking cold eyes... Always cold... So cold... Those emotionless pools of Prussian blue, laced with that never ending mockery... and that glow... Always that maddening glow I could never quite place, gone as soon as I looked for it but clear as day out of the corners of my eyes. Through all the insanity, madness, and inebriated stupors, I always seen that fucking glow, and somehow deep down I knew my sunken, blood shot eyes were not deceiving me, but I could never figure out where it came from... "I... I hate you..."
Heero Yui, Gundam pilot, the Perfect Soldier, pathetic and insane. What would they think of me now... What would Wufei's pride and integrity think of my state, and what of Quatre's kindred spirit, and Trowa's quiet understanding... Would he truly understand? Of course not... No one could... No one knew what I was going through, no one knew and no one cared... How could anyone care? And what of Relena? The young leader of a fledgling alliance who had followed me to all four corners of the Earth and even out into space itself, what would she think of me? What of... Duo...
"Aw..." The voice said in mock distress, bringing me back from the dark recesses of my mind, "But I love you!" I glared at the face of my hatreds, and watched as all the tiny pieces fell to the counter in a clatter.
Damn... That's gonna need stitches.
* * * * *
That's it, for the prologue, hope you enjoyed it. A fun topic seems to be Duo being mentally-ill, so I figured, why not use Heero as the psycho for once... ^_^ Anyways, *points towards the review option* Ya know you wanna do it! Succumb!
Ohhh and before I forget! If you DID enjoy this, then I urge you to go read Scar Tissue by Amanda 02, it is a G-R-E-A-T Fic, one of my all time favorites. It can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=351566
Enjoy ^_^
A guys gotta dream, you know.
Anyways now that the disclaimers done, here's a couple of warnings.
This Fic will be HEAVILY Angsty, it deals with depression, self-injury, and all the lovely little taboos of insanity. There will be coarse language and perhaps a few graphic scenes here and there, but that comes later once I update.
This is a NON-Yaoi Fic, got nothing against Yaoi, but it's just not my bag.
Ok now that all that stupid stuffs out of the way, onto the actual uh... Prologue I guess 'cause it's too damn short to be a chapter. PLEASE Review!
* * * * *
A drop of blood spilt to the floor, I watched it spin gracefully through the air, it seemed to be moving so slow, but then again everything moved slow anymore. The small red bead reached the ground and exploded with a ~ploink~ into the growing puddle, then another dripped, and another, I watched for what felt like days, as each drop added to the small pool of my blood resting on the tile. I laughed then, long, loud, and hysterical laughter echoing through an empty house. I don't know why I laughed, there was no humor in the sound, instead there was an edge of desperation, of insanity... Nothing was funny, nothing was bringing me joy, happiness, nothing was giving me anything but a wish that the blood on the floor was leaking from my wrists, but I couldn't stop, the laughter kept coming and screaming my insanity for all the world to hear, and when the laughter stopped, the tears came.
Yeah, isn't that just magical. Crying yet again. That's all I could seem to find it in me to do, cry tears laced with tortured screams. Weep and scream for hours, sometimes days, on end, never stopping until my voice was nothing more then a hoarse croak emanating from shattered vocal cords. Cry until there was nothing left to cry and the tears simply ran dry, leaving my body wracked with bone breaking sobs. They had to be bone breaking, 'cause the Valium and whiskey had been gone for days and the searing ache in my rib cage wouldn't seem to go away. Searing... Like my mind... God it just wouldn't leave me alone, that voice... Always the voice in my head, screaming at me forever... Another sob wracked through my broken ribs, snapping me from my reverie, bringing me back to the cold, hard, tile floor of my bathroom. The blood was still flowing freely from my arm.
Damn it, that ones deep, definitely going to need stitches... I sighed, audibly, and let the bloody razor slip from my trembling fingers. Pulling my body up to the counter, I was confronted by the same stranger that always seemed to await me behind that glass, the face that never ceased to bring out the very depths of my anger, hatred, and confusion, the face of a man I used to be. Ignoring him, I picked up an adjunct bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured a large amount onto the gaping cut. I watched, transfixed, as the liquid bubbled and hissed among the blood, but something was wrong, I could see what was happening but something was missing. I couldn't feel it burn, I couldn't feel the ache of the cut, the ache I knew was there, screaming unto deaf ears its tales of agony, the agony of having been ripped apart so violently... I knew it was there but I just couldn't feel the pain... I felt so fucking... empty...
"Soldiers don't feel pain." A voiceless monotone spoke
"Shut up..." I whispered hoarsely
"Pathetic boy, what's wrong with you?" It mocked
"I said shut up!" I spat, concentrating on the task of dressing the wound, after all this damn time the instinct never faded away, I always dressed my wounds. I concentrated harder, trying to block out that voice, though I knew it was pointless... It never shut up, it was always there, always mocking, always berating me. It was the voice of my madness.
"You never learn." Came that same monotone, "Look at me."
"No..."
"Look at me!" It shouted
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I screamed, glaring hotly at the smooth reflective surface before me, wishing for once I'd see the person I was. To see the ratty, unwashed brown hair I knew covered my head, to see the hollow, sunken eyes and dark bags beneath them contrasting with my sickly pale skin. Just once... I wanted to see my own grotesquely thin face in that goddamn mirror... But I was never there... It was always him.
"You're pathetic! The great Gundam pilot, savior of Earth itself, sunk so low." Mocking... He was always mocking me... "Sad, sad boy, so pathetic. Do you see what you've become without me? Without my guidance?"
"Why... Why won't you ever just shut up?!" I cried, locking eyes with my "reflection," and pouring every ounce of my soul deep hatred out into those fucking cold eyes... Always cold... So cold... Those emotionless pools of Prussian blue, laced with that never ending mockery... and that glow... Always that maddening glow I could never quite place, gone as soon as I looked for it but clear as day out of the corners of my eyes. Through all the insanity, madness, and inebriated stupors, I always seen that fucking glow, and somehow deep down I knew my sunken, blood shot eyes were not deceiving me, but I could never figure out where it came from... "I... I hate you..."
Heero Yui, Gundam pilot, the Perfect Soldier, pathetic and insane. What would they think of me now... What would Wufei's pride and integrity think of my state, and what of Quatre's kindred spirit, and Trowa's quiet understanding... Would he truly understand? Of course not... No one could... No one knew what I was going through, no one knew and no one cared... How could anyone care? And what of Relena? The young leader of a fledgling alliance who had followed me to all four corners of the Earth and even out into space itself, what would she think of me? What of... Duo...
"Aw..." The voice said in mock distress, bringing me back from the dark recesses of my mind, "But I love you!" I glared at the face of my hatreds, and watched as all the tiny pieces fell to the counter in a clatter.
Damn... That's gonna need stitches.
* * * * *
That's it, for the prologue, hope you enjoyed it. A fun topic seems to be Duo being mentally-ill, so I figured, why not use Heero as the psycho for once... ^_^ Anyways, *points towards the review option* Ya know you wanna do it! Succumb!
Ohhh and before I forget! If you DID enjoy this, then I urge you to go read Scar Tissue by Amanda 02, it is a G-R-E-A-T Fic, one of my all time favorites. It can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=351566
Enjoy ^_^
