Title: Maybe I'll Never Know
By: Vapidbreath
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO.
Warning(s): One-sided mention of incest, mention of suicide, and a male attraction to another male.
Author's note(s): I plan on writing another part to this. It will be from Bakura's view and will include the letter. Please review and any and all suggestions are welcome. Thank you.
Maybe I'll Never Know
My brother didn't understand that I loved him. I loved him the only way I knew how. He was sexy, cunning, and confident. What was not to love about him? I wanted to show him how I loved him. I wanted to confess my undying love for him. I couldn't though. I wasn't brave like him. I didn't have his confidence. I was afraid of what he'd say and think.
It was hard to be like him when you were afraid of society. So many people judging your outlook on the world. Telling you how it is such a sin to be gay. How it is such a sin to lust or even love your own brother. How am I supposed to control how I feel? Love will always be love no matter what shape, size, or color it happens to be. No matter what form.
I didn't want him to hate me. I didn't want him to be disgusted by me. I just wanted him to love me. I didn't think it was too much to ask. In fact, it was the only thing I asked for. There was nothing in the world that would make me happier. Nothing else could lift my soul and make my heart beat with love again.
You can only imagine what it was like when he left me. To come home after school and search through the house for him. To find him the bathtub with bloody water flooding the floor. Lifeless eyes staring into my dull ones. Slit wrist on either side of the tub.
I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. I couldn't breathe. I could only stand there and stare into the once eyes of my brother. Silently praying that it was just a figment of my imagination. Just a horrible nightmare my subconscious created. Anything but my brother lying dead in a bathtub.
The next day I found an envelope on bed. I knew it was from Bakura. I never told anyone about it. He died three years ago. To this day I've yet to open the letter. I guess it's because I fear what it will say. I'm afraid that maybe I was the reason he did it. Maybe he knew how I felt or maybe it was something no one knew about. I don't want to know because I want to remember the sexy, cunning, and confident brother he was. I don't ever want to know him as the pained, sad, little boy the letter tells he was inside.
Every night I pray that he will come back to me or that I join him in the afterlife. So that we can finally be together the way I've always dreamed. The way I've always imagined.
End
By: Vapidbreath
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO.
Warning(s): One-sided mention of incest, mention of suicide, and a male attraction to another male.
Author's note(s): I plan on writing another part to this. It will be from Bakura's view and will include the letter. Please review and any and all suggestions are welcome. Thank you.
Maybe I'll Never Know
My brother didn't understand that I loved him. I loved him the only way I knew how. He was sexy, cunning, and confident. What was not to love about him? I wanted to show him how I loved him. I wanted to confess my undying love for him. I couldn't though. I wasn't brave like him. I didn't have his confidence. I was afraid of what he'd say and think.
It was hard to be like him when you were afraid of society. So many people judging your outlook on the world. Telling you how it is such a sin to be gay. How it is such a sin to lust or even love your own brother. How am I supposed to control how I feel? Love will always be love no matter what shape, size, or color it happens to be. No matter what form.
I didn't want him to hate me. I didn't want him to be disgusted by me. I just wanted him to love me. I didn't think it was too much to ask. In fact, it was the only thing I asked for. There was nothing in the world that would make me happier. Nothing else could lift my soul and make my heart beat with love again.
You can only imagine what it was like when he left me. To come home after school and search through the house for him. To find him the bathtub with bloody water flooding the floor. Lifeless eyes staring into my dull ones. Slit wrist on either side of the tub.
I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. I couldn't breathe. I could only stand there and stare into the once eyes of my brother. Silently praying that it was just a figment of my imagination. Just a horrible nightmare my subconscious created. Anything but my brother lying dead in a bathtub.
The next day I found an envelope on bed. I knew it was from Bakura. I never told anyone about it. He died three years ago. To this day I've yet to open the letter. I guess it's because I fear what it will say. I'm afraid that maybe I was the reason he did it. Maybe he knew how I felt or maybe it was something no one knew about. I don't want to know because I want to remember the sexy, cunning, and confident brother he was. I don't ever want to know him as the pained, sad, little boy the letter tells he was inside.
Every night I pray that he will come back to me or that I join him in the afterlife. So that we can finally be together the way I've always dreamed. The way I've always imagined.
End