Disclaimer : I do not own Gravitation …. blah, blah ,blah, yada ,yada ,yada (well, everybody knows the drill :: author looking really bored ::).
Rating : PG-13? Uh, for swearing? Like you people care anyway.
Note: This happens before the whole Yuki x Shuichi thing. And it's a Yuki centric fic. With a bit messed up time line (did read vol. 1-6, but it was quite a while ago ), lot of OOC-ness . Actually I enjoy torturing characters so this ficie was for my own personal amusement. Unfortunately I've read it to my cousin Yvy. Long story short : she nagged me , then nagged me some more = I've finally complied . So here it is :: shouting :: HAPPY NOW ? ( now , now, don't get mad cuz, I have to blame someone in case this is a complete failure, right? :: evil smirk :: so people why don't you direct the flames to her? The address is…. :: unable to remember address ; thunderstorm in the background:: Whoa! What just happened? It seems I'm not the only one in a evil mode tonight ::shrug::) Anyway, fucked up rambling. Oh, yeah! my first fic ever posted, "if we shadows have offended….".
Review (or NOT). Enough! Let this be done.(:: roll eyes -- too dramatic ::)
The Broken Sealby quest4nreal
Darkness hides darkness the best. There are some thoughts that should never surface, for their alluring promise drenches the blood and shatters the light. Skinning desire alive. After a while all that is left is a meaningless, hollow shell. He was close to the edge now, dying inside through each unforgiving dream .So Eiri didn't sleep anymore, but nightmares haunted him relentlessly, bringing night into the day. It was a plague from within, the kind that one can't fight against. Endless, devouring torment. Paler, thinner by the day the man shut out the rest of the world. Becoming a ghost even to himself. Letting go. Allowing the past to take over.
#########
I cry more and more often. Every few days or so. Comes out of nowhere. Breathtaking, no, lifetaking sobs and wails. It's my life pouring down my cheeks. The apartment is strangely silent now that is over. For the moment at least. I know the pain will come again, from somewhere deep inside me. Poisoned am I with anger and sorrow – witnesses of a wasted life. Wasting mine. And every time a let tears fill my eyes, every time I allow myself to fall apart I'm healing a bit. Just a bit. The only cure that actually works. That touches whatever survived from my once innocent self. Yet even this cure is temporarily, for poison holds my soul with strength given by the years. Like Sisif[1], I too fight an endless battle with futility. There are times when I don't believe this, but again and again I am reminded of the rotten cave inside me, eating away the substance of my emotions, leaving them shallower and shallower. I shall fade one day. But I'll be dammed if don't make my mark on this world. And I will be if I do. Either way I am at loss….
Writing was always comforting. And I'm good at that. I've got the necessary skill, if not the heart. Though judging by what I've lent the paper this far one may not think so. Who gives a fuck anyway. Just another pathetic human story. Who doesn't love it, who doesn't thrive on it? Comforting or not, it's all I have. Ironically enough, the comfort I need I do not want. It makes one weak: not vulnerable – a nobler trait proper for a novel, but weak. And helpless. And I hate it. Hate is another " thing " I've learned. And learned well. Why did you do that to yourself? What was so luring in the bottle that you could not, would not stay away from? Your making, your master. A demanding one, possessing you to the last straw, drinking your soul to the abyss. Burning holes into mine. And teaching you the thirst. Evil and sickening. Memories are poison. Why did you do that to me? I ask and I'm not brave enough to face the answer. I'd rather suffer agony and torment than acknowledge one simple fact : I am not worthy. I was the sold one, yes, but there had been a time I would have sold myself for you. Gladly. You must have known that. It's so easy to end someone.
NO. NO more trips in Nowhere's Land. I have had it for the day. It has been nearly a half an hour since I were broken and scattered in a million pieces. But if I am to look now into the mirror there would be nothing but a cold, arrogant face starring back. Nothing to give away the wreckage. Nothing to betray the despair. Or the need. How would it feel to be hold like you matter to someone and to freely hold that one in return. Just for once. Stop fooling yourself, you idiot! You know what they all want from you. You're deluding if you think otherwise. True. And yet….
I am insane with the lust
of the heart.
You can not call it love –
It would be a too noble name for that.
And I am lost with wanting
And I am drown with fear
And I'm forever falling
while I do not fall.
I am insane,
Yet I have not lost reason.
Beyond the mirror one stands :
Eternally trapped in ice,
Yet burning with desire.
I am insane with the lust
of the heart.
Where all this came for, I do not know. Well, I do actually, but lets leave it like that. Not that I care. Note to myself – use the crap for a story or so. With proper editing will turn into yet another tragical character of mine. A well appreciated one. - Whatever. Beer left a sour taste in my mouth, smoke drifts lazily trough the room. And the computer hums in the background. Everything is back to normal again. Insignificant sentences, annoying to no end. An entire hour passed. I'm broken. It never happened.
My sister paid me a visit. Just now. She came in marching and tried bossing me around. Ordering my life into a routine that I resent. And I resent her. She knows. And yet she knows nothing. I drove her insane. The unfeeling cold bastard attitude. Another talent of mine. She left. Unfortunately she will be back. As if I want her back I humph at the computer. And the dammed thing humphs in return with my own words. Fuck. Fuck you all!
Winter. February. The 23-rd rushes by. Midnight. 24-th. 22 years wasted down the drain. And counting. I am bound on destroying myself. As if it takes a genius to figure that! Others have expectations of me. I don't even have hope.
I am numb. Writing down all this makes me numb. More efficient than pills, booze or submissive bodies. Like amnesia. I've done this before. At sixteen. I sat down and I wrote. Something dramatic and unrefined. And tore it to pieces just as I'd finished. Bought me a few years of relative control. I am not going to read this. It's enough that, by destroying it, I will seal once more the gates of my personal hell. It's better to not remember. I don't expect to be crying again. This decade.
Are you sure you want to delete file? Yes.
#########
Eiri found himself sitting in front of the computer feeling sore and aching all over.
The cursor was blinking on a new, untouched screen.
A chill ran down his spine. Something was out of place and barely out of the reach of his mind. Like an untold story. One that was not going to be remembered just because he had fallen asleep. Cursing his treacherous body he rose and dragged himself to the bathroom. The water felt good on his burning forehead. His gaze was drawn to the mirror. The reflection was unbroken. Hard light and amber hazed eyes. A whisper.
-I am Yuki.
-You are.
Survival instinct is stronger than the will to not live.
Who can tell what lies inside one's soul…. Can you?
How do you face your own demons?
END
[1] from Greek mythology , punished by Gods to carry an enormous rock to the top of a mountain. But every time he was close to reach his goal, the rock would fall, therefore forcing Sisif to start his ordeal, again and again, for eternity.
Another note: Ok everybody that was it. Oh, yeah …. The ###### stuff is not supposed to make sense in the normal, sensible way. Well, not entirely. The ending? I'm a fan of the "Tales from the crypt". And while I've wrote this I listened Alice Cooper's Poison. You can tell, huh?
Whoa! Somebody talks too much!
There are a lot of cool Gravi stories out there. Like "For longer than for ever" (hi Star! I can't wait to read the new chapie, when it's ready) or "Gravitation kids" or "Yuki" or "Mother, may I?" or…. I just don't know which one to mention first, there are so many of them!
One more thing, English is not my mother tongue so I'm bound to make mistakes. My apologies to those who notice them.(the rest of you, either you didn't pay attention to what I wrote :: angry author chases readers:: or your English is worse than mine :: smirk:: ).