Untitled Until Further Notice
Chapter 4
Rachel ~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Today we're hittin ya with a double whammy. It just so happens that when I got such horrible writers block on chapter 3, I wrote chapter 4. This was actually done first... -.-; So anyway, I was gonna make you wait for it, but I figured that you people are already pissed enough at me, and I didn't want to start getting bombs in the mail o anything... So here it is, Chapter 4 from Rachel's POV!! wOOt!
Disclaimer(Aren't these just so fun?)
If I told you I owned Trigun, That would be a lie. So lets not talk about it anymore, You're about to make me cry. (THAT WAS SO !@#$% LAME!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When you were a child, did you ever wish that the circumstances of which you lived your life were different? Did you wish that your mom didn't die when you were only one, or that your dad wasn't a homicidal-psychopath? Did you ever try to imagine what your life would have been like if you'd been born a normal little girl? I always found it unfathomable, to think of a life as a human, getting old and dying, or really any of that. I always thought that I was just a freak, a freak who'd never find her purpose in life.
I had really never understood why I was so different from all of the other kids. I grew at a much faster rate, and when I made friends at the playground, they would ask me how old I was and when I told them, they either told me I was lying or that I was a freak. I never was able to keep a friend until I met Brian. He accepted me for what I was, he knew everything about me and still liked me anyway. I was five when I met him, and he was fourteen. He was a whole nine years older than me, I often wondered if it was wrong to feel about him the way I did. I loved him, and no matter what anyone said, I was going to be with him someday. I knew he felt it too, because he had been acting strange lately when we would play. It sounds so childish, but often we would horse around and wrestle. But lately it'd been... different....
And (of course) it bugged the hell out of Knives (jr.). He was probably the best brother a person could have. He did get annoying at times, but I guess that's to be expected. After all, siblings are annoying; it's like a rule of nature... But the way he was acting now. it was so horrifyingly different.
I had got home moments before he did. I was sitting on the couch. I figured that Merry and my uncle were asleep, and that there was no need to wake them up.
Knives (jr.) walked through the door. He didn't look normal, his eyes looked bloodshot and he was walking in a funny manner.
"...Knives?" I question. He looks so out of it. He looks at me, but doesn't say anything as he sits down on the couch next to me. "...What's wrong, bro?" He holds his face in his hands.
"I don't feel so well..." He sure sounded sick, sicker than hell. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he began to shudder. He shuddered violently for about five seconds, and stood back up. He looked like he was in some sort of trance. He reached for his gun.
"W-what the hell are you doing?!" I stand up with him. Things weren't the same as when we were younger. He now had a good seven inches over me. It's not so easy to be intimidating towards your brother when he is so much taller than you, and when he looks so dejected. He says nothing to me, but walks in the direction of uncle Vash's room. I follow. I'm not leaving him alone until he gives me a straight answer. But as I followed him, fear began to well up inside of me.
...Something was so familiar about this situation, about this energy I was sensing. It was terrifyingly familiar, even though for the life of me I couldn't place it in my memory.
"I'm not joking, Knives. Tell me what's up. Now." I step in front of him, but he continues walking, trying to walk through me. I end up falling out of his way, and he continues to walk, his zombie-like movements weren't funny anymore.
...But in my mind, a part of me knew that something was wrong, that he wasn't just trying to bug me. This was a little different than the 'Scream-mask-outside-my-bedroom-window-on-Halloween' gag.
He made his way into Vash's room. I was shocked at the sight I saw. On uncle's bed, Merry and he looked well... a little bit busy.
...GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER!!! That's not the kind of busy I meant, even though I guess that it's pretty close to it. They're engaged in a passionate kiss, the kind that you see in the sappy romantic movies. Their arms are wrapped around each other, and they look all-out happy.
They don't realize my brother; still walking like a zombie, go over to them. He raised his gun, and my uncle shivered as the cold metal made contact with his temple.
They abruptly break their kiss. Merry gapes in shock, and Vash gasps. "...Knives?" He sputters.
"Knives, what are you doing?" Merry asks, wide-eyed with shock. He looks at her.
"...Please... help me..." He still holds the gun to Vash's head.
I run into the room. "Knives! Stop it!" I yell over and over at him. He doesn't stop though. "KNIVES!!!" I scream. He turns to me, momentarily taking the gun from vash's head, and slams me in the face with the butt of it. I halfway crash to the ground, catching myself.
...And suddenly, horrible memories from my childhood flooded my mind.
~Flashback~
I had been playing in the front yard with my brother. We were racing around a dinky makeshift track that my daddy had made for us. I tripped and scraped my knee. It was bleeding pretty badly, and it hurt like hell.
"Whoa, maybe you should go inside and have mum bandage your knee, Rach." He helped me up, and I brushed him off and limped into the house myself.
I closed the heavy front door behind me. I heard sobbing from the kitchen, so I decided to listen.
"Why are you doing this?" I heard the muffled cries of my mother, accompanied by the heavy, uneasy breathing of my father. I felt a strange energy, but I couldn't tell what it was.
"Please... forgive me..." He gasped, and I decided that it was time to see what they were up to. I limped in through the kitchen door.
I froze with shock at the scene before my eyes. My mother was backed up against the counter, and my father was standing a few feet away, pointing his black gun at her stomach. His eyes were glowing red, not at all like the friendly daddy eyes that he usually had.
I clenched my eyes shut as the gun fired. BANG... BANG... BANG... BANG... BANG.... BANG.... Time slowed down as I heard the first two shots, opening my eyes in shock as the last four were fired. I saw my mother being tossed around as the bullets pierced the skin on her stomach.
Gunpowder and blood. The worst combination of smells possible. I whimpered as they flooded my nostrils, forcing the shock of reality upon me. Daddy turned to me, a scary look on his face. He stepped towards me. I wanted to run away, to scream, to do anything, but my body wouldn't allow me. I just stood there, staring at him wide-eyed.
"D-daddy..." I sputtered at him. He looked like he was fighting within himself.
"You know that daddy'd never do anything to hurt you, right?" He towered over me, as I looked up at him. He was holding the gun. I hoped and prayed to the Almighty God that this was all a dream. A horrible, unbelievably realistic dream.
I nodded mutely, as tears began to flood my eyes. "Daddy... Why did you hurt mommy?" He squatted in front of me, looking like he was about to cry himself.
He said nothing.
"...Why?" I asked again, this time a little louder.
He said nothing.
"I wanna know why, dammit!" I screamed at him. His eyes turned red.
He growled at me. "Shut up you little brat!" He hit me with the butt of his gun. It came out of his hand and landed next to me. He disappeared out of the window and out of our lives forever.
My cheek was bleeding profusely, and I stood up. I grabbed the gun, and ran over to my mother, collapsing on top of her. I cried my eyes out into her shoulder, not caring that I was getting drenched in crimson. I wanted to scream for help, but my voice was too weak. I wanted to run out and get my brother, but I couldn't even stand up. I just laid there, crying on my mother.
It hadn't occurred to me that someone would have heard the gunshots and called the sheriff. A bunch of men ran into the room, all holding guns.
"Hey, it's that little freak-kid!" One of them yelled. I continued to cry, not even looking at them.
"That little monster...she killed Jezebella!" I felt something grab me harshly by the shoulder and pull me off of her. I received a sharp kick to my side, knocking the breath out of me.
"You're gonna pay for what you did, you little freak!" All of these men. they had grown up with my mother, her childhood friends. They never liked my father or my brother and I.
They continued to kick me, each blow sending me deeper into a spiral of pain. After a while, the pain started to feel good... My whole body started to go numb. That's when I knew I was going to die.
It's strange, knowing that you're going to die. I mean, we all know that we're going to die eventually, but the feeling of knowing your life is going to end. It's so horrible. My brain started to stop sending messages, and I was being kicked around like a soccer ball. Suddenly I heard a voice.
"What the hell are you doing?!?" I could tell it was my uncle Vash; I didn't even have to open my eyes to tell that. I heard grunts and loud noises, and heavy footsteps coming towards me. "Rachel... Rachel... Are you allright?" The voice echoed in my head, and I began to lose consciousness. The last thing I remembered was hearing Knives (jr.)'s deafening cry.
Everything went black.
~End Flashback~
Tears streamed wildly down my face, stinging the gash in my cheek. I jumped up and clenched myself to Knives (jr.)'s back.
"Knives! Snap outta it!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't stop. He continues to hold the gun to uncle Vash's head.
Uncle Vash just sat there, his arms still wrapped protectively around Merry. Knives (jr.) started to tremble, and he threw me off of his back. I slid across the wooden floor, skidding to a stop and jumping up.
"Knives! Why are you doing this?!" I screamed again. He ignored me, still trembling. I couldn't watch it. I couldn't watch my brother kill my uncle. I had to do something.
...But what?
Suddenly an idea came to me. I reached down at my belt, my own hands starting to shake nervously. Unsheathing my own gun, I point it at him. I tried to aim for a spot that wouldn't do permanent damage, but my hands were so shaky. I fired and immediately closed my eyes. I heard his gun go off and Merry's high-pitched scream. I fell to the ground, hugging my knees and sobbing.
He actually shot him. He shot uncle Vash. I didn't want to open my eyes. I decided that I'd just sit there with my eyes closed forever if I had to.
Again I smell gunpowder and blood. It hurt my nostrils so bad, and I cried even harder. I sat there for what seemed like forever, hearing heavy footsteps all around me.
"...Rachel..." It's. uncle Vash!!
I look up at him. "...Didn't you get shot?" He chuckled, obviously trying to lighten the situation.
"You say it like it's a bad thing that I didn't." I try to smile, but the emotional overload simply won't allow it.
"...Where's Knives?" I looked around. Maybe I hit him in the wrong place. maybe I killed him... If I did... then I'd have no right to live...
"Well, turns out you're a better shot than we all thought." He said halfway good-naturedly. My jaw almost dropped. Does that mean that I really did shoot him in the wrong place?
"W-what are you talking about?"
"Well, when you shot, it hit his gun, forcing it down, and making it go off. It shot him in the foot." I almost laughed. That had to be the stupidest thing I'd ever heard in my life.
Still, I thanked my lucky stars that he wasn't hurt. Not too badly, anyway.
He chuckeled again. "I carried him to his room and Meryl's bandaging his foot." Meryl? Didn't he mean Merry? Wasn't Meryl that girl he was always rambling about in his sleep, 'Oh Meryl, oh Meryl, I'm so sorry, please don't leave me'?
"...Meryl?" I cocked my head at him. He sighed.
"I'll explain everything later." Damn right you will! I have absolutely NO clue whats going on!
"...Uncle Vash...?" I ask. He smiles slightly.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"...Why did he do all of this?" His smile fades. He looks down at his hands, and then back up at me.
"...I don't know, Rachel... I really don't know..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Admit it, you hate me. You want me dead. What's new? Ok, so I tried to kill Vash off... What's wrong with that? Don't worry, it'll happen a few more times in the story. I actually don't like this whole action-y thing. In my opinion it's too rushed but, who really gives a damn lets get to the important part. What did you think? You liked it, right? Well, I could just sit here all day and chew your ear off (MIKE TYSON AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH RUN!!!) but I won't. Go review, and tell me who you think the next chapter's POV should be. Allrighty, this is S-chan, signing off, GOODNIGHT AMERICA MEEE LURRRRRRRVE YOOOOOOU!!!
Chapter 4
Rachel ~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Today we're hittin ya with a double whammy. It just so happens that when I got such horrible writers block on chapter 3, I wrote chapter 4. This was actually done first... -.-; So anyway, I was gonna make you wait for it, but I figured that you people are already pissed enough at me, and I didn't want to start getting bombs in the mail o anything... So here it is, Chapter 4 from Rachel's POV!! wOOt!
Disclaimer(Aren't these just so fun?)
If I told you I owned Trigun, That would be a lie. So lets not talk about it anymore, You're about to make me cry. (THAT WAS SO !@#$% LAME!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When you were a child, did you ever wish that the circumstances of which you lived your life were different? Did you wish that your mom didn't die when you were only one, or that your dad wasn't a homicidal-psychopath? Did you ever try to imagine what your life would have been like if you'd been born a normal little girl? I always found it unfathomable, to think of a life as a human, getting old and dying, or really any of that. I always thought that I was just a freak, a freak who'd never find her purpose in life.
I had really never understood why I was so different from all of the other kids. I grew at a much faster rate, and when I made friends at the playground, they would ask me how old I was and when I told them, they either told me I was lying or that I was a freak. I never was able to keep a friend until I met Brian. He accepted me for what I was, he knew everything about me and still liked me anyway. I was five when I met him, and he was fourteen. He was a whole nine years older than me, I often wondered if it was wrong to feel about him the way I did. I loved him, and no matter what anyone said, I was going to be with him someday. I knew he felt it too, because he had been acting strange lately when we would play. It sounds so childish, but often we would horse around and wrestle. But lately it'd been... different....
And (of course) it bugged the hell out of Knives (jr.). He was probably the best brother a person could have. He did get annoying at times, but I guess that's to be expected. After all, siblings are annoying; it's like a rule of nature... But the way he was acting now. it was so horrifyingly different.
I had got home moments before he did. I was sitting on the couch. I figured that Merry and my uncle were asleep, and that there was no need to wake them up.
Knives (jr.) walked through the door. He didn't look normal, his eyes looked bloodshot and he was walking in a funny manner.
"...Knives?" I question. He looks so out of it. He looks at me, but doesn't say anything as he sits down on the couch next to me. "...What's wrong, bro?" He holds his face in his hands.
"I don't feel so well..." He sure sounded sick, sicker than hell. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he began to shudder. He shuddered violently for about five seconds, and stood back up. He looked like he was in some sort of trance. He reached for his gun.
"W-what the hell are you doing?!" I stand up with him. Things weren't the same as when we were younger. He now had a good seven inches over me. It's not so easy to be intimidating towards your brother when he is so much taller than you, and when he looks so dejected. He says nothing to me, but walks in the direction of uncle Vash's room. I follow. I'm not leaving him alone until he gives me a straight answer. But as I followed him, fear began to well up inside of me.
...Something was so familiar about this situation, about this energy I was sensing. It was terrifyingly familiar, even though for the life of me I couldn't place it in my memory.
"I'm not joking, Knives. Tell me what's up. Now." I step in front of him, but he continues walking, trying to walk through me. I end up falling out of his way, and he continues to walk, his zombie-like movements weren't funny anymore.
...But in my mind, a part of me knew that something was wrong, that he wasn't just trying to bug me. This was a little different than the 'Scream-mask-outside-my-bedroom-window-on-Halloween' gag.
He made his way into Vash's room. I was shocked at the sight I saw. On uncle's bed, Merry and he looked well... a little bit busy.
...GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER!!! That's not the kind of busy I meant, even though I guess that it's pretty close to it. They're engaged in a passionate kiss, the kind that you see in the sappy romantic movies. Their arms are wrapped around each other, and they look all-out happy.
They don't realize my brother; still walking like a zombie, go over to them. He raised his gun, and my uncle shivered as the cold metal made contact with his temple.
They abruptly break their kiss. Merry gapes in shock, and Vash gasps. "...Knives?" He sputters.
"Knives, what are you doing?" Merry asks, wide-eyed with shock. He looks at her.
"...Please... help me..." He still holds the gun to Vash's head.
I run into the room. "Knives! Stop it!" I yell over and over at him. He doesn't stop though. "KNIVES!!!" I scream. He turns to me, momentarily taking the gun from vash's head, and slams me in the face with the butt of it. I halfway crash to the ground, catching myself.
...And suddenly, horrible memories from my childhood flooded my mind.
~Flashback~
I had been playing in the front yard with my brother. We were racing around a dinky makeshift track that my daddy had made for us. I tripped and scraped my knee. It was bleeding pretty badly, and it hurt like hell.
"Whoa, maybe you should go inside and have mum bandage your knee, Rach." He helped me up, and I brushed him off and limped into the house myself.
I closed the heavy front door behind me. I heard sobbing from the kitchen, so I decided to listen.
"Why are you doing this?" I heard the muffled cries of my mother, accompanied by the heavy, uneasy breathing of my father. I felt a strange energy, but I couldn't tell what it was.
"Please... forgive me..." He gasped, and I decided that it was time to see what they were up to. I limped in through the kitchen door.
I froze with shock at the scene before my eyes. My mother was backed up against the counter, and my father was standing a few feet away, pointing his black gun at her stomach. His eyes were glowing red, not at all like the friendly daddy eyes that he usually had.
I clenched my eyes shut as the gun fired. BANG... BANG... BANG... BANG... BANG.... BANG.... Time slowed down as I heard the first two shots, opening my eyes in shock as the last four were fired. I saw my mother being tossed around as the bullets pierced the skin on her stomach.
Gunpowder and blood. The worst combination of smells possible. I whimpered as they flooded my nostrils, forcing the shock of reality upon me. Daddy turned to me, a scary look on his face. He stepped towards me. I wanted to run away, to scream, to do anything, but my body wouldn't allow me. I just stood there, staring at him wide-eyed.
"D-daddy..." I sputtered at him. He looked like he was fighting within himself.
"You know that daddy'd never do anything to hurt you, right?" He towered over me, as I looked up at him. He was holding the gun. I hoped and prayed to the Almighty God that this was all a dream. A horrible, unbelievably realistic dream.
I nodded mutely, as tears began to flood my eyes. "Daddy... Why did you hurt mommy?" He squatted in front of me, looking like he was about to cry himself.
He said nothing.
"...Why?" I asked again, this time a little louder.
He said nothing.
"I wanna know why, dammit!" I screamed at him. His eyes turned red.
He growled at me. "Shut up you little brat!" He hit me with the butt of his gun. It came out of his hand and landed next to me. He disappeared out of the window and out of our lives forever.
My cheek was bleeding profusely, and I stood up. I grabbed the gun, and ran over to my mother, collapsing on top of her. I cried my eyes out into her shoulder, not caring that I was getting drenched in crimson. I wanted to scream for help, but my voice was too weak. I wanted to run out and get my brother, but I couldn't even stand up. I just laid there, crying on my mother.
It hadn't occurred to me that someone would have heard the gunshots and called the sheriff. A bunch of men ran into the room, all holding guns.
"Hey, it's that little freak-kid!" One of them yelled. I continued to cry, not even looking at them.
"That little monster...she killed Jezebella!" I felt something grab me harshly by the shoulder and pull me off of her. I received a sharp kick to my side, knocking the breath out of me.
"You're gonna pay for what you did, you little freak!" All of these men. they had grown up with my mother, her childhood friends. They never liked my father or my brother and I.
They continued to kick me, each blow sending me deeper into a spiral of pain. After a while, the pain started to feel good... My whole body started to go numb. That's when I knew I was going to die.
It's strange, knowing that you're going to die. I mean, we all know that we're going to die eventually, but the feeling of knowing your life is going to end. It's so horrible. My brain started to stop sending messages, and I was being kicked around like a soccer ball. Suddenly I heard a voice.
"What the hell are you doing?!?" I could tell it was my uncle Vash; I didn't even have to open my eyes to tell that. I heard grunts and loud noises, and heavy footsteps coming towards me. "Rachel... Rachel... Are you allright?" The voice echoed in my head, and I began to lose consciousness. The last thing I remembered was hearing Knives (jr.)'s deafening cry.
Everything went black.
~End Flashback~
Tears streamed wildly down my face, stinging the gash in my cheek. I jumped up and clenched myself to Knives (jr.)'s back.
"Knives! Snap outta it!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't stop. He continues to hold the gun to uncle Vash's head.
Uncle Vash just sat there, his arms still wrapped protectively around Merry. Knives (jr.) started to tremble, and he threw me off of his back. I slid across the wooden floor, skidding to a stop and jumping up.
"Knives! Why are you doing this?!" I screamed again. He ignored me, still trembling. I couldn't watch it. I couldn't watch my brother kill my uncle. I had to do something.
...But what?
Suddenly an idea came to me. I reached down at my belt, my own hands starting to shake nervously. Unsheathing my own gun, I point it at him. I tried to aim for a spot that wouldn't do permanent damage, but my hands were so shaky. I fired and immediately closed my eyes. I heard his gun go off and Merry's high-pitched scream. I fell to the ground, hugging my knees and sobbing.
He actually shot him. He shot uncle Vash. I didn't want to open my eyes. I decided that I'd just sit there with my eyes closed forever if I had to.
Again I smell gunpowder and blood. It hurt my nostrils so bad, and I cried even harder. I sat there for what seemed like forever, hearing heavy footsteps all around me.
"...Rachel..." It's. uncle Vash!!
I look up at him. "...Didn't you get shot?" He chuckled, obviously trying to lighten the situation.
"You say it like it's a bad thing that I didn't." I try to smile, but the emotional overload simply won't allow it.
"...Where's Knives?" I looked around. Maybe I hit him in the wrong place. maybe I killed him... If I did... then I'd have no right to live...
"Well, turns out you're a better shot than we all thought." He said halfway good-naturedly. My jaw almost dropped. Does that mean that I really did shoot him in the wrong place?
"W-what are you talking about?"
"Well, when you shot, it hit his gun, forcing it down, and making it go off. It shot him in the foot." I almost laughed. That had to be the stupidest thing I'd ever heard in my life.
Still, I thanked my lucky stars that he wasn't hurt. Not too badly, anyway.
He chuckeled again. "I carried him to his room and Meryl's bandaging his foot." Meryl? Didn't he mean Merry? Wasn't Meryl that girl he was always rambling about in his sleep, 'Oh Meryl, oh Meryl, I'm so sorry, please don't leave me'?
"...Meryl?" I cocked my head at him. He sighed.
"I'll explain everything later." Damn right you will! I have absolutely NO clue whats going on!
"...Uncle Vash...?" I ask. He smiles slightly.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"...Why did he do all of this?" His smile fades. He looks down at his hands, and then back up at me.
"...I don't know, Rachel... I really don't know..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Admit it, you hate me. You want me dead. What's new? Ok, so I tried to kill Vash off... What's wrong with that? Don't worry, it'll happen a few more times in the story. I actually don't like this whole action-y thing. In my opinion it's too rushed but, who really gives a damn lets get to the important part. What did you think? You liked it, right? Well, I could just sit here all day and chew your ear off (MIKE TYSON AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH RUN!!!) but I won't. Go review, and tell me who you think the next chapter's POV should be. Allrighty, this is S-chan, signing off, GOODNIGHT AMERICA MEEE LURRRRRRRVE YOOOOOOU!!!