"Shit, you fucking piece of SHIT_!" I felt the blow come. Many more came
repeatedly. The pain was instantaneous; It wouldn't stop. More insults
came from my 'father', but I suppose that I'm used to them by now.
I'm used to being yelled at, beaten, and further abuse, that has removed all sanity from my mind. Being told that it was my fault, that Mother and Amane died eventually suck in; I mean, if I was there, maybe...
There was linger, yes, the lingering thought of 'what if'? But there is not such a term. There is only fate, destiny, and all this other crap that ultimately screws up everyone's lives.
Sure, there was an accused murderer; A random serial killer. But my 'father' had taken the liberty of using me as his punching bag. Me, who constantly punch, kick, yell at. I'm not, but a human shell, of once an innocent youth, who was born into a Hell-hole of the worst son of a bitches family imaginable.
But the funny thing is...Is that I don't feel any more pain, of mother and Amane's slaughter. I feel nothing, when images flash before my mind, of their mangled, bloodied bodies.
Nothing.
My fellow peers at School, have certainly noticed the changes in me. No longer, was I Bakura Ryou: The shy, quiet kid in the back of the class. No longer was I Bakura Ryou: The boy who wrote sad poetry and no matter how much everyone hated me; They liked it. And no longer was I Bakura Ryou, for in a sense of manor; Bakura Ryou died a long time before these present events.
When my mother had Amane, was when 'Ryou' died. The small child was completely ignored; Shut out of this perfect little World, that only belonged to those who were accepted. How I remember my younger-self's cries, for each time he was scolded, for only looking different.
It was all Amane's fault; That's the reason he was so miserable. Every essence of his sister, dripped with purity and perfection. She was just the PERFECT child, in the PERFECT family, and Ryou was excluded from it all.
But, what I wonder: If Ryou, died when Amane was born, who was living inside of him? I wasn't. I came later.
I suppose, that there is no way, to try to make sense, out of this. There's no point. It'll all be over anyway.
I want out.
After the blows stopped, I couldn't feel anything anymore. I was so sick of living, that my own body denies pain with me psychically, as I do mentally. There is nothing that attaches me to this World, but a speck of remorse. There was something that I didn't want to leave behind in this material realm, so why? There wasn't one who I loved, not a dream, that hasn't been tainted, and turned to dust, by reality. So why...?
*At Domino High*
~ Third person ~
The youth's eyes were cold and narrowed. An odd look of determination, was on his face. Silvery-white locks danced upon his head, his once gentle brown eyes, completely allude from emotion. Void.
As he entered the Boy's Lavatory, there was a smile on his face, that looked queer from the seriousness of his aura. Mind. Body. Soul.
Without bothering to hide himself, the youth brought out a bottle of ale` (that he obtained from his 'father'). Smashing the bottle agenst a crone pipe, and its shape was now sharp and deadly. Without looking, 'Ryou' positioned the broken bottle upon his wrist.
And blindly slashed.
I'm used to being yelled at, beaten, and further abuse, that has removed all sanity from my mind. Being told that it was my fault, that Mother and Amane died eventually suck in; I mean, if I was there, maybe...
There was linger, yes, the lingering thought of 'what if'? But there is not such a term. There is only fate, destiny, and all this other crap that ultimately screws up everyone's lives.
Sure, there was an accused murderer; A random serial killer. But my 'father' had taken the liberty of using me as his punching bag. Me, who constantly punch, kick, yell at. I'm not, but a human shell, of once an innocent youth, who was born into a Hell-hole of the worst son of a bitches family imaginable.
But the funny thing is...Is that I don't feel any more pain, of mother and Amane's slaughter. I feel nothing, when images flash before my mind, of their mangled, bloodied bodies.
Nothing.
My fellow peers at School, have certainly noticed the changes in me. No longer, was I Bakura Ryou: The shy, quiet kid in the back of the class. No longer was I Bakura Ryou: The boy who wrote sad poetry and no matter how much everyone hated me; They liked it. And no longer was I Bakura Ryou, for in a sense of manor; Bakura Ryou died a long time before these present events.
When my mother had Amane, was when 'Ryou' died. The small child was completely ignored; Shut out of this perfect little World, that only belonged to those who were accepted. How I remember my younger-self's cries, for each time he was scolded, for only looking different.
It was all Amane's fault; That's the reason he was so miserable. Every essence of his sister, dripped with purity and perfection. She was just the PERFECT child, in the PERFECT family, and Ryou was excluded from it all.
But, what I wonder: If Ryou, died when Amane was born, who was living inside of him? I wasn't. I came later.
I suppose, that there is no way, to try to make sense, out of this. There's no point. It'll all be over anyway.
I want out.
After the blows stopped, I couldn't feel anything anymore. I was so sick of living, that my own body denies pain with me psychically, as I do mentally. There is nothing that attaches me to this World, but a speck of remorse. There was something that I didn't want to leave behind in this material realm, so why? There wasn't one who I loved, not a dream, that hasn't been tainted, and turned to dust, by reality. So why...?
*At Domino High*
~ Third person ~
The youth's eyes were cold and narrowed. An odd look of determination, was on his face. Silvery-white locks danced upon his head, his once gentle brown eyes, completely allude from emotion. Void.
As he entered the Boy's Lavatory, there was a smile on his face, that looked queer from the seriousness of his aura. Mind. Body. Soul.
Without bothering to hide himself, the youth brought out a bottle of ale` (that he obtained from his 'father'). Smashing the bottle agenst a crone pipe, and its shape was now sharp and deadly. Without looking, 'Ryou' positioned the broken bottle upon his wrist.
And blindly slashed.