When I was born, I was told about the curse. I was told I was born to die. Can you believe it? Borne to die. What kind of ridiculous and absurd lies were they talking about?!! They told me, I had the power to control the Jyunishi, as if I were God. I laughed and waved my hands, during that time, that's silly, I told them, how could any of this absurdity be true?
Silly as it was, it was true.
I remember the day where I finally understood that I was made to die. My body was weak and frail. I was about five? Six years old? And I was coughing very badly, during that time. I wasn't coughing out phlegm though, it was crimson red, warm and slick. I heard people saying in such low whispers..."Poor... poor child... five and this sickly... such poor, pale skin... five and dying."
"What is this?" I had asked. My mother had a look on her face, her face was squished up as it pains her to see me like this. She, instead, just smiled at me, like a mother would for a child and hugged me, cautious of leaving a fine distance between us, as if if she were to hug any tighter, my bones will break. But as I grew older, i realise that she was just trying not to be infected by my germs.
Wherever I go, for whatever reasons there may be, my heart was always carrying a heavy burden. I would crumple up in the corner of my room and would be so afraid of the dark. The darkness, seemingly, would consume me. And I began to loathe my very existence, for the shadow that I had behind me was like another figure of me, just waiting for the right moment to swallow me up into its world.
Once, I ever heard my parents quarrelling, it wasn't a common thing that they do. I, as a child, have gotten used to the hysterical shrieks of my mother, the loud yelling of my father and the breaking of glass and whatever not, for there were usually violence involved. They were quarrelling, because I existed in this world. Shrieking, because my mother could not take this pain of having me being sick all the time. Yelling, because my father blames my mother for having born such a cursed child like me. Cursed. What a big word for a child like me to understand, but somehow, I did and it hurt me so much, that I grew angry. Outraged by the fact that my parents did not love me the way I had loved them, furious by the fact that they did not accept me because I was cursed, and such overwhelming self-pity, for I could not be the child they would grow to love.
I had clenched my hands into fists, while biting back cold, hard tears. Telling myself not to cry, that crying only make one feel weak and vulnerable. I slammed the door and went back to my favorite spot of the room. I kneeled in the corner of the room, I recall, and I began punching the walls while the tears started flowing.
Cursed… Cursed! I didn't ask to be born like this! But here I am, CURSED! I thought as I punched the walls again and again, the constant thud sounds each time I punched the walls was mortifyingly comforting, as blood trickled down my bruised knuckles. Yet still, I did not care. I hate them. I hate them for not loving me the way I was.
I was human, had every right to be human, I was right in front of them. Human! Not cursed! I want to make them see that I was human, with skin and bones and everything else that makes one human. Yet all they could see, was the curse. I hate them for seeing only that part of me. And most of all, I hate myself for being cursed. I remember letting out a frustrated shrieks as I pressed my head down my pillow, hoping to block off the high pitched sounds of it.
After that incident, everything people did to me, I wanted to pay them in double. I want to make them feel what I'm feeling right now. All the things they say and did to make me felt like shit and made me lost everything, my dignity, my pride, my self-worth…, I wanted them to lose it all as well. I wanted them to lose all the things I've lost in myself, I want to make them feel as low as I'm feeling right now, maybe even lower, and actually feel good by the end of the day. Welcome to my shit.
Maybe I can't love myself enough, or maybe because of where I grew up in, or maybe because of how I've lived my life that I had become this horrible and childish monster, though, I do not admit that I am one. Who knows.
I realise, too, that I really could control the animals of the Jyunishi. When I asked Shigure to follow me to the garden even though we did not know each other, he miraculously did. When I asked Yuki to wait for me outside the bathroom while I bathed, i had purposely taken an awfully long bath, he did too. Ha! I was cursed, but at least, I was in control.
"What do you know…" Akito stepped back in horror, "What do you know how I've lived my life?! Or how I feel every time I wake up and find that I'm still alive!" Akito shouted in exasperation. Suddenly afraid because she was able to seemingly read his mind. She was right, what kind of person is he?!
Akito buried his face with both his hands. As he thought about what she said, he fought back tears of shame, fear, terror. And guilt.
[After word]
I dare say, that this is the best and most fun chapter that I have ever written throughout the whole fanfic. Ha! What fun I had writing about Akito's soft spots! Ha!
What fun I had writing about him turning into a big softie! sees Akito glaring at me
Uh, nevertheless, I still adore Akito very much. I enjoyed writing up his past too. Yes, weird to see Akito having almost cried, but somehow, I enjoyed writing that. Lolx! Hope you enjoyed it so far! Little inside news was that, I had extracted an excerpt from my very own blog and pasted it in because I felt it was very suited for the fanfic. Can you guess where?