I originally wrote a fanfic when I was 12, and this is from the POV of a
mentally disturbed original character named Seisuke.
Light and Dark
Sage . . . pretty Sage with such beautiful magnificent eyes . . . Those eyes haunt me constantly; I cannot have them. I hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes. You are free to walk happily in the Light while I must whimper and snarl inside my Prison of Darkness.
Do you even remember me? I am probably nonexistent to you. We were separated from each other during the middle of our fourth year of life. You certainly forget that, I think. After all, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes, proper Light is in the future and not in the past.
Perhaps that is why I cannot forget that day. The memories of being in Talpa's castle, of begging for mercy crying only as a four-year-old can, and of my Imprisonment haunt me. My last sight was of the half-completion of my Prison. The Dark memories come to me while I sleep, make me sweat, make me scream . . . They consume my mind and I can think of nothing else. The future is null and void.
Naturally, I wonder why you were saved to walk in the Light while I was left to rot inside my Dark Prison. I envied you for your freedom, and that envy turned into hatred. I know it is illogical of me to hate you; you were of the same age as me, and we had no choice in what happened to us. I hate the Ancient One instead. How could he imagine a child only at the age of four to survive or to fend for himself? In my mind, I confuse the Ancient and Talpa; I cannot decipher who is who. Although they never truly had an alliance, The Ancient discarded me and allowed the Dynasty to torture and stunt my soul.
WHY?!?!
We were the same! Should we not either walk freely in the Light together or face the same Prison together? I fear I cannot return to the Light. Sweet colorful Light . . .
I hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes. I hate you for your freedom. And for your beautiful eyes. I try to think of how you lived after we were separated. You enjoyed the wonderful sight of family, of friends, of commonplace objects. Tell me that blue and yellow make green, but those words mean nothing to me. How can I not hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes?
I also think of how you would react if you ever saw me. You would cry out in horror at the sight of my Prison, you would cringe and recoil, then you would flee. Yes, you must flee from me! We were once the same! There are times in my life when I want to scream out to you, "WHAT THOUGHTS WOULD CROSS THROUGH YOUR MIND AS A HUGE SCYTHE SLICES INTO YOUR EYE AND PULLS?" That little fancy of mine fills me with such vile delight that I want to cower in bed and pray that nothing is overhead to mock my blindness.
Oh, I wish I were as beautiful as you, pretty Sage with wonderful eyes of Light! I wish I were free from my Prison!
The memories are returning to haunt me, now, I fear . . .
I am so tired of this pain . . .
I want to go home.
Before I fall into my tragic sleep yet again, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes, I must tell you one phrase - the philosophy of my life while I lived in the netherworld.
Darkest Prison Sheds The Light.
Don't hurt me.
Someone help.
Please let me go home . . .
I'm scared of the Dark . . .
Light and Dark
Sage . . . pretty Sage with such beautiful magnificent eyes . . . Those eyes haunt me constantly; I cannot have them. I hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes. You are free to walk happily in the Light while I must whimper and snarl inside my Prison of Darkness.
Do you even remember me? I am probably nonexistent to you. We were separated from each other during the middle of our fourth year of life. You certainly forget that, I think. After all, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes, proper Light is in the future and not in the past.
Perhaps that is why I cannot forget that day. The memories of being in Talpa's castle, of begging for mercy crying only as a four-year-old can, and of my Imprisonment haunt me. My last sight was of the half-completion of my Prison. The Dark memories come to me while I sleep, make me sweat, make me scream . . . They consume my mind and I can think of nothing else. The future is null and void.
Naturally, I wonder why you were saved to walk in the Light while I was left to rot inside my Dark Prison. I envied you for your freedom, and that envy turned into hatred. I know it is illogical of me to hate you; you were of the same age as me, and we had no choice in what happened to us. I hate the Ancient One instead. How could he imagine a child only at the age of four to survive or to fend for himself? In my mind, I confuse the Ancient and Talpa; I cannot decipher who is who. Although they never truly had an alliance, The Ancient discarded me and allowed the Dynasty to torture and stunt my soul.
WHY?!?!
We were the same! Should we not either walk freely in the Light together or face the same Prison together? I fear I cannot return to the Light. Sweet colorful Light . . .
I hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes. I hate you for your freedom. And for your beautiful eyes. I try to think of how you lived after we were separated. You enjoyed the wonderful sight of family, of friends, of commonplace objects. Tell me that blue and yellow make green, but those words mean nothing to me. How can I not hate you, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes?
I also think of how you would react if you ever saw me. You would cry out in horror at the sight of my Prison, you would cringe and recoil, then you would flee. Yes, you must flee from me! We were once the same! There are times in my life when I want to scream out to you, "WHAT THOUGHTS WOULD CROSS THROUGH YOUR MIND AS A HUGE SCYTHE SLICES INTO YOUR EYE AND PULLS?" That little fancy of mine fills me with such vile delight that I want to cower in bed and pray that nothing is overhead to mock my blindness.
Oh, I wish I were as beautiful as you, pretty Sage with wonderful eyes of Light! I wish I were free from my Prison!
The memories are returning to haunt me, now, I fear . . .
I am so tired of this pain . . .
I want to go home.
Before I fall into my tragic sleep yet again, pretty Sage with beautiful eyes, I must tell you one phrase - the philosophy of my life while I lived in the netherworld.
Darkest Prison Sheds The Light.
Don't hurt me.
Someone help.
Please let me go home . . .
I'm scared of the Dark . . .