Riddles of the Heart
written by Atlantis
© 2002
For this chapter alone I am dispensing with the formalities. There won't be any thanks or apologies or notes and whatnot. This chapter has a point and I intend to make it very clear. Everyone knows I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
WARNING!! THIS CHAPTER IS RATED A STRONG R!! IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE INTENSE SUBJECTS THAT DEAL WITH PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA, DEATH, OR LANGUAGE, THEN DO NOT READ!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
*****************************************************************
PART 8
Watching the Grammy's probably should have boosted her spirits, even in the smallest possible amount, but then again, her red-rimmed eyes were an indication that no, it hadn't. Her hair was still wet from the shower, her sisters were staying at a friend's house, she was sitting on her parents' bed, and had a massive headache from crying too much. Damn it damn it damn it! No!! Damn him!
Gasping in a breath that was tremulous at best, Tea buried her face in the large pillow sitting in her lap, rubbing the tears away from her eyes angrily. The lights from the television flickered brightly as the program switched to yet another commercial and reaching for the remote at her side, Tea attempted to mute the annoying advertisements. When that didn't work, throwing the remote directly at the T.V. was found to be a sufficient substitute. Her fingers clawed at the coverlet and bundles of blankets beneath and around her and her fists found respite in the pillows she had deemed as punching bags.
She flopped back abruptly and stared up at the ceiling and the whirring fan as small salted droplets trickled from the corners of her glazed blue eyes. What she really needed was some hardcore, something that screamed and was violent and cursed to the high heaven's. Too bad she didn't have any. In its place was the slow and continuous breaking of her heart, the tearing of her soul; something that had been worsening over the last few months. Ever since the last time she had spoken with *him*.
Yes, it had been months. Two months and seventeen days, to be exact. Thirteen hours, fifty-eight minutes, and twenty-two, no twenty-three... now twenty-five seconds. She blinked. What kind of a freak was she, keeping track like this? Better yet, why was she still so despondent over what had happened? It was in the past, right? There was life to live, school to worry about, and a company that she had rid of her responsibility. So why couldn't she move on?
It was because he had been her foundation, her sole inspiration for continuing in a life that had become so dismal, that had faded to shades of indistinguishable grey. Each decision, every person, every place, had been the same: emotionless, lifeless, representing death, and mocking until he had miraculously appeared. And now he was gone, just like her parents. Stripped away from her not in life, but in spirit because words were apparently stronger and more hurtful than sticks and stones. Tea sat up and shut her eyes as if she could see his beautiful face in the ceiling, refusing to cry again. Damn it, it was too late. A fresh drizzle of tears rained from her eyes all over her face, trailing over her cheeks and around her nose, making her sniffle as she hiccupped, over her chin and down her neck. Not for the first time that night, she whirled around and sent her fists flying into the wall, not caring that the splits in her knuckles from earlier had reopened and were allowing blood to run down her wrists and arms once more.
Unable to sit anymore, Tea moved to her feet and immediately began pacing, throwing her bloodied hands up to pull on fistfuls of hair. A mangled scream was ripped from her throat as she dropped to her knees, her knees and hands landing on the glass from the broken mirror that she had shattered earlier with a marble bookend. She didn't care. How could she? She couldn't even feel.
"It's not... not fucking fair..." she gasped and cried, tears falling once again to leave small clean trails in the blood on her hands below her. She had gone through the seven circles of hell and still it was not enough. Not enough that her mother had despised her. Not enough that they were never home. Not enough that she had to be the acting mother to her sisters *and* her friends. Not enough that her parents had died. Not enough that the organ that pumped in her chest had been obliterated and haphazardly put back together, expected to work as it had before. And what was worse, it wasn't all his fault. In fact, if there was going to be any blame, it was damn well going to be hers!
An eerie laugh reverberated through the room and clambering to her feet shakily, Tea made her way to her parents' closet: the one thing she hadn't gone through since they'd passed away. Her hands throbbed and her legs threatened to fold beneath her but she pushed on, a dark determination coursing through her blood, whispering in her ear and calling with a deceptive sweetness. She had to stretch her right arm up farther than she'd remembered but it eventually found purchase on an ancient shoe box that was hidden on the top shelf in the back corner of the closet. Hobbling back over to the bed she moved to the center and crossed her legs, bloody hands reaching out to lift the top off of the box and leaving fingerprints all over it and the blankets.
"Peace. My peace," she told herself. She had to shake her head, it was getting very hard to focus on anything. That wouldn't do. No, that wouldn't do at all. A black fog passed over her vision but she shook her head once more as she loaded the heavy revolver in her hand. Pushing the cartridge into the bottom and hearing it click, she cocked the release and turned the weapon on her chest. As midnight descended on her consciousness, the gun shot. And silence.
***
End Part 7. Review if you want.
I have come to the conclusion that I no longer have time to send out emails anymore regarding new chapter installments, which is unfortunate. If you would like to be informed of updates, then join my Yahoo! group. You will find the address in my profile.
Atlantis
For this chapter alone I am dispensing with the formalities. There won't be any thanks or apologies or notes and whatnot. This chapter has a point and I intend to make it very clear. Everyone knows I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
WARNING!! THIS CHAPTER IS RATED A STRONG R!! IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE INTENSE SUBJECTS THAT DEAL WITH PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA, DEATH, OR LANGUAGE, THEN DO NOT READ!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
*****************************************************************
PART 8
Watching the Grammy's probably should have boosted her spirits, even in the smallest possible amount, but then again, her red-rimmed eyes were an indication that no, it hadn't. Her hair was still wet from the shower, her sisters were staying at a friend's house, she was sitting on her parents' bed, and had a massive headache from crying too much. Damn it damn it damn it! No!! Damn him!
Gasping in a breath that was tremulous at best, Tea buried her face in the large pillow sitting in her lap, rubbing the tears away from her eyes angrily. The lights from the television flickered brightly as the program switched to yet another commercial and reaching for the remote at her side, Tea attempted to mute the annoying advertisements. When that didn't work, throwing the remote directly at the T.V. was found to be a sufficient substitute. Her fingers clawed at the coverlet and bundles of blankets beneath and around her and her fists found respite in the pillows she had deemed as punching bags.
She flopped back abruptly and stared up at the ceiling and the whirring fan as small salted droplets trickled from the corners of her glazed blue eyes. What she really needed was some hardcore, something that screamed and was violent and cursed to the high heaven's. Too bad she didn't have any. In its place was the slow and continuous breaking of her heart, the tearing of her soul; something that had been worsening over the last few months. Ever since the last time she had spoken with *him*.
Yes, it had been months. Two months and seventeen days, to be exact. Thirteen hours, fifty-eight minutes, and twenty-two, no twenty-three... now twenty-five seconds. She blinked. What kind of a freak was she, keeping track like this? Better yet, why was she still so despondent over what had happened? It was in the past, right? There was life to live, school to worry about, and a company that she had rid of her responsibility. So why couldn't she move on?
It was because he had been her foundation, her sole inspiration for continuing in a life that had become so dismal, that had faded to shades of indistinguishable grey. Each decision, every person, every place, had been the same: emotionless, lifeless, representing death, and mocking until he had miraculously appeared. And now he was gone, just like her parents. Stripped away from her not in life, but in spirit because words were apparently stronger and more hurtful than sticks and stones. Tea sat up and shut her eyes as if she could see his beautiful face in the ceiling, refusing to cry again. Damn it, it was too late. A fresh drizzle of tears rained from her eyes all over her face, trailing over her cheeks and around her nose, making her sniffle as she hiccupped, over her chin and down her neck. Not for the first time that night, she whirled around and sent her fists flying into the wall, not caring that the splits in her knuckles from earlier had reopened and were allowing blood to run down her wrists and arms once more.
Unable to sit anymore, Tea moved to her feet and immediately began pacing, throwing her bloodied hands up to pull on fistfuls of hair. A mangled scream was ripped from her throat as she dropped to her knees, her knees and hands landing on the glass from the broken mirror that she had shattered earlier with a marble bookend. She didn't care. How could she? She couldn't even feel.
"It's not... not fucking fair..." she gasped and cried, tears falling once again to leave small clean trails in the blood on her hands below her. She had gone through the seven circles of hell and still it was not enough. Not enough that her mother had despised her. Not enough that they were never home. Not enough that she had to be the acting mother to her sisters *and* her friends. Not enough that her parents had died. Not enough that the organ that pumped in her chest had been obliterated and haphazardly put back together, expected to work as it had before. And what was worse, it wasn't all his fault. In fact, if there was going to be any blame, it was damn well going to be hers!
An eerie laugh reverberated through the room and clambering to her feet shakily, Tea made her way to her parents' closet: the one thing she hadn't gone through since they'd passed away. Her hands throbbed and her legs threatened to fold beneath her but she pushed on, a dark determination coursing through her blood, whispering in her ear and calling with a deceptive sweetness. She had to stretch her right arm up farther than she'd remembered but it eventually found purchase on an ancient shoe box that was hidden on the top shelf in the back corner of the closet. Hobbling back over to the bed she moved to the center and crossed her legs, bloody hands reaching out to lift the top off of the box and leaving fingerprints all over it and the blankets.
"Peace. My peace," she told herself. She had to shake her head, it was getting very hard to focus on anything. That wouldn't do. No, that wouldn't do at all. A black fog passed over her vision but she shook her head once more as she loaded the heavy revolver in her hand. Pushing the cartridge into the bottom and hearing it click, she cocked the release and turned the weapon on her chest. As midnight descended on her consciousness, the gun shot. And silence.
***
End Part 7. Review if you want.
I have come to the conclusion that I no longer have time to send out emails anymore regarding new chapter installments, which is unfortunate. If you would like to be informed of updates, then join my Yahoo! group. You will find the address in my profile.
Atlantis