Yay OCs! This is a story about my two major original characters. I have another one, but he will be in another story for now. I know some people don't like OCs, but there are Yuugiou characters in this, too. The Yuugiou characters are introduced later and will become a major part of it soon. No worries! Read. Review, and Enjoy (RRE)!
---
The harsh sun burned my grimy skin. My black hair only intensified the unbearable heat. I pulled away the few strands of hair that stuck to my forehead. They clung to my fingers. I moaned in frustration. The overlapping shadows of the city were not enough to chill the baking asphalt. A cotton ball I held to my right eye was beginning to dampen. The blistering temperature blurred everything. I spotted a tree ahead and prayed for a break from moving. The tree's weak and broken branches gave a small bit of shade. I slumped against its rough trunk and slid down to the concrete. The darkness was so welcoming.
I pulled the bottom of my shirt up to wipe my face. A sweat soaked blotch stained the hem. I wished for some water. But, I had no idea where I was exactly or what the time was. All I knew was that I came from somewhere in the suburbs of Domino, Japan. Rows and rows of white painted houses lined all the streets in my neighborhood in had lived in. There were no skyscrapers and no bustling sidewalks. It seemed so paranormal compared to the place I was in now. Taller than tall buildings poked at the sky and herds of cell phone carrying workers pushed their way around.
And everything was so bright. I don't know whether it was the sun reflecting off the buildings' windows or if it was lack of a cooling breeze, but my eyes were extremely sensitive. The mid-July weather did not make me feel any better, either. I bent down and rolled up my khaki pants and made an effort to swab my face again. My cheeks were damp. The shirt's cloth absorbed much of sweat the covered my skin. Or were they tears?
I pulled my fingers out of my knotted locks. My hair had no style. It was long and my bangs were always in my face. It had been over 5 years since I had cut my hair. Like my brother, we shared the same onyx hair and deep emerald eyes. People would say we were twins, if only I would wear a ponytail. I was tall enough, too, at 5 ft. 6 in. However, I would have hated being like him. He was not as nice as everyone thought.
I leaned back and breathed deeply. My whole body was hot and achy. I still didn't understand what had happened earlier. It was like a bad home movie, splotchy and always having an odd ending. My history before 4th grade is unclear. Life for me had been dark from the beginning. All I could bring up were small memories of my family. And they weren't so good.
-
"I am Rayota Ryuuji and I am so glad to be here," I would say in a singsong voice. The cracked mirror on the back of my closet door still reflected my pride. "Well, I will begin by singing a song about my life," I continued. "About a romance gone away forever."
Someone pounded at my room's door. "Come on, Ray. Time for dinner."
"Okay," I cheerfully replied. It now struck me as odd that I had ever been so happy. I spun around on my plush carpet and unwound the feather boa that enveloped me. With an utmost care, I slid out of my favorite princess dress. It was decorated with lace and jewels and was saved for only special occasions. The whole outfit screamed pink. I loved to dress up in it and sing in front of a mirror. Young dreams of being a pop star always drifted through my mind. But what were you expecting, a 6 year old wanted to be a nuclear engineer?
I pranced down the stairs towards the dinning room and plopped down into my seat. My mother dished out dinner and began to eat. There was no grace. We never were really into that sort of religious mumbo jumbo. I dove in to my meatloaf but noticed that I was being watched. Looking up, I saw that both my father and brother were staring at me. "What's wrong, Otogi?" I wondered. He continued to gawk. Both of them did.
By then I had not realized my family's true nature. My father had always wished to have a boy. He had gotten his wish with Otogi. Then, along came me a little over a year later. I was a girl. Unfortunately for him, my father had to take care of both of us. He wished to be with just his son, but he was forced to treat us equally. Hate was written all over his scarlet-colored face every time he looked at me. It did not take long for Otogi to become the favorite. Otogi is smart, Otogi is strong, Otogi can do anything … I loathed it yet said nothing. My father repeatingly told me that I was, "A mistake." Otogi learned a world of things from our father. I was left to play alone in my room. During this entire time, my mother would pretend our lives were perfect. I hated her denial. I hated her.
My father's loathing had two effects on his children's lives. Otogi learned that his father's disgusting ways were correct and good. And I learned of his wrath. In moments of moderate anger, my father would blindly hit me. Small bruises and cuts were all that came from it at first. But, heavier objects like lamps, books, and boots were introduced. I began to automatically stoop when he became angry. Soon, the wounds became larger and more numerous. After his attacks, my father would be very apologetic. He would bandaged me and cover my scars with new clothing he bought me. I accepted the bribes. Eventually, I started wearing long sleeves and pants all year. They covered all of my skin accept my head and neck. My scars faded away and my youthful love for my father was renewed. I never forgot his abuse, though. I wouldn't be able to.
I now know why the two stared at me around the dinner table. It was from hatred and ignorance. There was a mix of the two qualities in each of the males. I quickly finished dinner and went back to my room. With confidence, I donned my princess attire and sung my heart out to an unknown audience. It was just me and my thoughts, as it always would be.
-
Elementary school came at last. I was not so excited for its clean classrooms and less-than-charming lunch ladies, but Otogi was. Gym was an extra favorite of his. Dodgeball came naturally for all the kids in my class but me. My preferred class was art. The beauty of a big, red, squiggly blob always mesmerized me. I might not have been a Van Gogh, but I knew my finger paints.
At home, things were normal. My family was still disjointed and Otogi was still the beloved "Oti-muffin-pants". I retreated into my room once again. For my12th birthday, my aunt bought me an old-fashion laptop. It was a very early version, but got me to the Internet nonetheless. I met people from foreign countries, purchased stuff, read stories, and so much more. The possibilities were infinite. I greatly thanked my aunt for the link she gave me to the outside world.
I was tired of being bitter. The years had passed and my dislike for the world wore down on me. I stayed away from everyone. My TV and online friends were my people. As for my slightly older brother, he had created some game. On his 13th birthday, Mother and Father rented him out a building. Now he was officially spoiled. Otogi used it as a springboard to launch his new game. People swarmed to see the new business open. He created gaming fields, informational classes, and even a concession stand. And he was the head of it all. I heard little of his success in my secluded space. Occasionally, I would hear his parading around the house's halls cheering for himself. However, his fame spread and he began having over bunches of friends. One day, Otogi even asked me something.
"Hey, Sis?" he popped his head into my room. "You wanna join me and my new friends for a sleepover next week?"
I was taken aback by his sudden kindness. "Of - of course," I recovered. Remembering, I decided to ask, "Hey, what's that new game you created?"
"Um, well it's called Dungeon Dice Monsters and ... well, come with me," Otogi said. I stood up reluctantly. He ushered me out my door and led me downstairs. We descended the basement steps. I gasped as I saw the mini, yet elaborate, arena built on the concrete floor.
"Wow."
"It is great, isn't it? Come on." We continue on down to the small field. "I will give you a quick lesson on how to play this game," Otogi began. "First, in this game, various crests are assembled on dice. Those dice can also be placed on the field, which is called the dungeon. In this way, you create the Dungeon, and move your Monsters along it. Players have fun with a combination of tactics and strategies. Are you understanding all of this?" I rapidly nodded my head. He continued on explaining the points of the game. After a few minutes, my brother finished. He put me on one side of the field and himself on the other. The game began.
Otogi let me go first because I was his baby sister. I was happy that someone was finally being nice to me in the family. That is, until I looked at his face. An evil smirk slowly pierced his face. I at last understood why he was doing this. It was so that he could beat me at yet another thing. It was so trivial. I was surprised that I had not caught on earlier. The expression on my face changed from excited to annoyed. The game rolled on. I had almost no idea what I was doing. With the little information I had been given, I wove my way through the field. The points went up and down leaving me lost in the dark. After what had seemed like hours, Otogi finally said something after a move I had made.
"But, how?" he mumbled.
"How what?" I asked.
He gritted teeth. It looked like he was trying to bite through his jaw. "Get out," he commanded. His shaking hand pointed towards the basement door.
"What? I thought we were having fu-"
"Now!" I flinched and turned. My feet pounded up the stairs. A million and one questions flooded my mind. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaped onto my bed. Soon after, I heard another stampede of steps race up the stairway. They approached my room. A loud CLUNK was followed by a menacing grumble. Otogi had bolted my door shut from the outside. I was locked in. A streak of fear and anger blazed through my blood.
-
I had found out later that I had beaten my brother. Without even knowing it, I had defeated the creator of the game with only a simple knowledge. His inflated ego had popped leaving me in its rush of hot air. I stayed in my room long after my mother had unlocked the door. There was no reason to leave. My 14th birthday came and went, only to be forgotten except for a card from my mother and aunt.
I decided to leave from my prison cell one day to get some food. Laughs leaked from the kitchen. Otogi was having more friends over. I shrugged and walked in anyways. My wooden sandals clopped across the tiled floor as I headed for the icebox. I opened the refrigerator and noticed that the kitchen was suddenly quiet. Behind me, everyone was staring. I turned and cocked an eyebrow.
"Um, Otogi, you didn't tell us someone else was here," a spiky haired boy commented. He was fiddling with his necklace. The pendant was an upside-down pyramid. I found this particularly odd.
"This is just our maid," my brother answered without a second thought.
"But, she looks so much like you," a blonde haired boy said with a strong New York accent.
I put up my hand and gave a little wave. "Hey, I ... am ... Ray, Otogi's younger sis. How are you?"
Everyone continued to stare, including Otogi. "You have a sister!?" one of them blurted out finally.
Otogi stood up. "You were supposed to stay in your room like always." He was obviously angry at me. "Leave," he commanded.
I gave him a sarcastic smile and saluted him with my middle finger. "Yes, your royal butty-ness." I added to his annoyance by marching off like a retarded soldier. Several of the people in the kitchen waved good-bye. I gave my farewell and returned to my sanctum. No doubt, I would see them again. I mean, at least one of them had to be nice.
-
I was now 15. My carefree life was supplemented by the 3 square meals shoved under my door. I began to hang out with some of Otogi's friends. His irritation came back once again. I did not care. They were an interesting crew and seemed to be very open. Yuugi was kind, Jouno was feisty, Yami was sexy (although not to me), Ryou was friendly, Bakura was slightly scary, and there were others. One guy in particular interested me, though. His name was Yami Malik.
We all went to a party early one night. It was at one of the friend's house. I got up the courage to dance but refrained from do so anyway. So, I hung out around the punch bowl and bobbed my head to the music. A hand touched my shoulder. Yami Malik pulled me aside and kissed me. There was no reason behind it, yet it lasted for decades. He broke off and drifted into the throbbing crowd of dancers. I sighed at the luck that no one else had seen it, but I wish someone had.
The party ended and Jouno drove me home. I stepped out and graciously thanked him for taking me out for some fun. Partying was so different from my normal life. I loved it. The house lights were all out when I walked in. I checked my watch. 12:37 am. I had promised to be home by 11:00. The living room light was on. My father was sitting on a chair with the toaster in his lap. He held a flat screwdriver in one hand and was fumbling at the machine's innards. All the sudden, he yelled. "Stupid piece of crap! I have been trying to fix this thing for hours!"
"Hello, Dad," I almost whispered. "I'm home."
My father became aware of my presence. He stood up and turned around to face me. As usual, his face was beet red. He drew his arm back and pitched the toaster at me. I instinctually ducked. It crashed against the wall behind me. I gave him a frightened glance. "You're late, you little whore!" he shouted. "You were supposed to be back hours ago! Otogi got back here at the right time, why couldn't you!?"
I straightened myself up. Submissively, I took a nervous step towards his intimidating frame. "I - I - I'm sorry, Dad."
His face became even redder. "Did you say sorry, you idiot?" He gripped the tool in his hand. His rage spilled over the proverbial rim. My father reached up with the screwdriver slashed the point along the right side of my face. I could feel the cold raking somewhere on my numb skin. He finished his slice and then dropped the tool to the ground. There was a mirror beside me. I turned to look. A deep cut had been engraved over my eye. I tried to open my eyelids, but pain seared every nerve in my skin. I brought my hand up to touch the wound. Blood tipped my fingers. I screamed bloody murder and fell to my knees. The last thing I remember from the night is my father's arm cradling my head and my blood soaked tears staining his collar. After that, I ran.
-
The faint cries of my father calling me back might have been a false memory. I had so many things jumbling my thoughts. The night was long. I had found a park bench to sleep on. A lady had given me a cotton ball to hold on my bloody eye. She asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I truly didn't want to. People had caused this pain and people could not just take it away. I slept on the cold metal seat all night. Sleep came easily. I was exhausted from running block after block. The hours had taken me out of the suburbs and in the city's depths.
I awoke under the scorching rays of the sun. My skin sizzled as stumbled into consciousness. I got up from the bench and began to move. The sidewalks were busy and seemed to sway. It was so hot. I walked among the crowd in my day-old clothes. Some people gawked at me. It was probably from my filthy appearance. My skin felt dirty. Not from the combination of sweat and dust that had accumulated; it was just a feeling.
-
And that is where I ended up in the beginning of my tale. Alone and abused.
I heaved myself up from under the tree. There had to be somewhere I could go. Into the sidewalks again, I looked around. I passed by a store window and reversed my motion to get a better look. A blacked haired reflection stared back from the glass pane. I dropped my hand holding the cotton. With my right eyelids closed, a perfect line was cut vertically over them; all from my father's own handiwork. Blood was smudged all over my pale skin. I opened it. My vision had to adjust to the bright light. Then I saw it, in the middle of the eye. A greenish white circle looked back with a slight indentation in the center. I gasped. My father's blow had not just scarred me. Now, my right eye was blind.
---
What will Ray do now? You will meet more characters, I promise. Mr. Ryuuji sounds like Mr. Jounouchi. Oh well. Please review.
---
The harsh sun burned my grimy skin. My black hair only intensified the unbearable heat. I pulled away the few strands of hair that stuck to my forehead. They clung to my fingers. I moaned in frustration. The overlapping shadows of the city were not enough to chill the baking asphalt. A cotton ball I held to my right eye was beginning to dampen. The blistering temperature blurred everything. I spotted a tree ahead and prayed for a break from moving. The tree's weak and broken branches gave a small bit of shade. I slumped against its rough trunk and slid down to the concrete. The darkness was so welcoming.
I pulled the bottom of my shirt up to wipe my face. A sweat soaked blotch stained the hem. I wished for some water. But, I had no idea where I was exactly or what the time was. All I knew was that I came from somewhere in the suburbs of Domino, Japan. Rows and rows of white painted houses lined all the streets in my neighborhood in had lived in. There were no skyscrapers and no bustling sidewalks. It seemed so paranormal compared to the place I was in now. Taller than tall buildings poked at the sky and herds of cell phone carrying workers pushed their way around.
And everything was so bright. I don't know whether it was the sun reflecting off the buildings' windows or if it was lack of a cooling breeze, but my eyes were extremely sensitive. The mid-July weather did not make me feel any better, either. I bent down and rolled up my khaki pants and made an effort to swab my face again. My cheeks were damp. The shirt's cloth absorbed much of sweat the covered my skin. Or were they tears?
I pulled my fingers out of my knotted locks. My hair had no style. It was long and my bangs were always in my face. It had been over 5 years since I had cut my hair. Like my brother, we shared the same onyx hair and deep emerald eyes. People would say we were twins, if only I would wear a ponytail. I was tall enough, too, at 5 ft. 6 in. However, I would have hated being like him. He was not as nice as everyone thought.
I leaned back and breathed deeply. My whole body was hot and achy. I still didn't understand what had happened earlier. It was like a bad home movie, splotchy and always having an odd ending. My history before 4th grade is unclear. Life for me had been dark from the beginning. All I could bring up were small memories of my family. And they weren't so good.
-
"I am Rayota Ryuuji and I am so glad to be here," I would say in a singsong voice. The cracked mirror on the back of my closet door still reflected my pride. "Well, I will begin by singing a song about my life," I continued. "About a romance gone away forever."
Someone pounded at my room's door. "Come on, Ray. Time for dinner."
"Okay," I cheerfully replied. It now struck me as odd that I had ever been so happy. I spun around on my plush carpet and unwound the feather boa that enveloped me. With an utmost care, I slid out of my favorite princess dress. It was decorated with lace and jewels and was saved for only special occasions. The whole outfit screamed pink. I loved to dress up in it and sing in front of a mirror. Young dreams of being a pop star always drifted through my mind. But what were you expecting, a 6 year old wanted to be a nuclear engineer?
I pranced down the stairs towards the dinning room and plopped down into my seat. My mother dished out dinner and began to eat. There was no grace. We never were really into that sort of religious mumbo jumbo. I dove in to my meatloaf but noticed that I was being watched. Looking up, I saw that both my father and brother were staring at me. "What's wrong, Otogi?" I wondered. He continued to gawk. Both of them did.
By then I had not realized my family's true nature. My father had always wished to have a boy. He had gotten his wish with Otogi. Then, along came me a little over a year later. I was a girl. Unfortunately for him, my father had to take care of both of us. He wished to be with just his son, but he was forced to treat us equally. Hate was written all over his scarlet-colored face every time he looked at me. It did not take long for Otogi to become the favorite. Otogi is smart, Otogi is strong, Otogi can do anything … I loathed it yet said nothing. My father repeatingly told me that I was, "A mistake." Otogi learned a world of things from our father. I was left to play alone in my room. During this entire time, my mother would pretend our lives were perfect. I hated her denial. I hated her.
My father's loathing had two effects on his children's lives. Otogi learned that his father's disgusting ways were correct and good. And I learned of his wrath. In moments of moderate anger, my father would blindly hit me. Small bruises and cuts were all that came from it at first. But, heavier objects like lamps, books, and boots were introduced. I began to automatically stoop when he became angry. Soon, the wounds became larger and more numerous. After his attacks, my father would be very apologetic. He would bandaged me and cover my scars with new clothing he bought me. I accepted the bribes. Eventually, I started wearing long sleeves and pants all year. They covered all of my skin accept my head and neck. My scars faded away and my youthful love for my father was renewed. I never forgot his abuse, though. I wouldn't be able to.
I now know why the two stared at me around the dinner table. It was from hatred and ignorance. There was a mix of the two qualities in each of the males. I quickly finished dinner and went back to my room. With confidence, I donned my princess attire and sung my heart out to an unknown audience. It was just me and my thoughts, as it always would be.
-
Elementary school came at last. I was not so excited for its clean classrooms and less-than-charming lunch ladies, but Otogi was. Gym was an extra favorite of his. Dodgeball came naturally for all the kids in my class but me. My preferred class was art. The beauty of a big, red, squiggly blob always mesmerized me. I might not have been a Van Gogh, but I knew my finger paints.
At home, things were normal. My family was still disjointed and Otogi was still the beloved "Oti-muffin-pants". I retreated into my room once again. For my12th birthday, my aunt bought me an old-fashion laptop. It was a very early version, but got me to the Internet nonetheless. I met people from foreign countries, purchased stuff, read stories, and so much more. The possibilities were infinite. I greatly thanked my aunt for the link she gave me to the outside world.
I was tired of being bitter. The years had passed and my dislike for the world wore down on me. I stayed away from everyone. My TV and online friends were my people. As for my slightly older brother, he had created some game. On his 13th birthday, Mother and Father rented him out a building. Now he was officially spoiled. Otogi used it as a springboard to launch his new game. People swarmed to see the new business open. He created gaming fields, informational classes, and even a concession stand. And he was the head of it all. I heard little of his success in my secluded space. Occasionally, I would hear his parading around the house's halls cheering for himself. However, his fame spread and he began having over bunches of friends. One day, Otogi even asked me something.
"Hey, Sis?" he popped his head into my room. "You wanna join me and my new friends for a sleepover next week?"
I was taken aback by his sudden kindness. "Of - of course," I recovered. Remembering, I decided to ask, "Hey, what's that new game you created?"
"Um, well it's called Dungeon Dice Monsters and ... well, come with me," Otogi said. I stood up reluctantly. He ushered me out my door and led me downstairs. We descended the basement steps. I gasped as I saw the mini, yet elaborate, arena built on the concrete floor.
"Wow."
"It is great, isn't it? Come on." We continue on down to the small field. "I will give you a quick lesson on how to play this game," Otogi began. "First, in this game, various crests are assembled on dice. Those dice can also be placed on the field, which is called the dungeon. In this way, you create the Dungeon, and move your Monsters along it. Players have fun with a combination of tactics and strategies. Are you understanding all of this?" I rapidly nodded my head. He continued on explaining the points of the game. After a few minutes, my brother finished. He put me on one side of the field and himself on the other. The game began.
Otogi let me go first because I was his baby sister. I was happy that someone was finally being nice to me in the family. That is, until I looked at his face. An evil smirk slowly pierced his face. I at last understood why he was doing this. It was so that he could beat me at yet another thing. It was so trivial. I was surprised that I had not caught on earlier. The expression on my face changed from excited to annoyed. The game rolled on. I had almost no idea what I was doing. With the little information I had been given, I wove my way through the field. The points went up and down leaving me lost in the dark. After what had seemed like hours, Otogi finally said something after a move I had made.
"But, how?" he mumbled.
"How what?" I asked.
He gritted teeth. It looked like he was trying to bite through his jaw. "Get out," he commanded. His shaking hand pointed towards the basement door.
"What? I thought we were having fu-"
"Now!" I flinched and turned. My feet pounded up the stairs. A million and one questions flooded my mind. I slammed the door shut behind me and leaped onto my bed. Soon after, I heard another stampede of steps race up the stairway. They approached my room. A loud CLUNK was followed by a menacing grumble. Otogi had bolted my door shut from the outside. I was locked in. A streak of fear and anger blazed through my blood.
-
I had found out later that I had beaten my brother. Without even knowing it, I had defeated the creator of the game with only a simple knowledge. His inflated ego had popped leaving me in its rush of hot air. I stayed in my room long after my mother had unlocked the door. There was no reason to leave. My 14th birthday came and went, only to be forgotten except for a card from my mother and aunt.
I decided to leave from my prison cell one day to get some food. Laughs leaked from the kitchen. Otogi was having more friends over. I shrugged and walked in anyways. My wooden sandals clopped across the tiled floor as I headed for the icebox. I opened the refrigerator and noticed that the kitchen was suddenly quiet. Behind me, everyone was staring. I turned and cocked an eyebrow.
"Um, Otogi, you didn't tell us someone else was here," a spiky haired boy commented. He was fiddling with his necklace. The pendant was an upside-down pyramid. I found this particularly odd.
"This is just our maid," my brother answered without a second thought.
"But, she looks so much like you," a blonde haired boy said with a strong New York accent.
I put up my hand and gave a little wave. "Hey, I ... am ... Ray, Otogi's younger sis. How are you?"
Everyone continued to stare, including Otogi. "You have a sister!?" one of them blurted out finally.
Otogi stood up. "You were supposed to stay in your room like always." He was obviously angry at me. "Leave," he commanded.
I gave him a sarcastic smile and saluted him with my middle finger. "Yes, your royal butty-ness." I added to his annoyance by marching off like a retarded soldier. Several of the people in the kitchen waved good-bye. I gave my farewell and returned to my sanctum. No doubt, I would see them again. I mean, at least one of them had to be nice.
-
I was now 15. My carefree life was supplemented by the 3 square meals shoved under my door. I began to hang out with some of Otogi's friends. His irritation came back once again. I did not care. They were an interesting crew and seemed to be very open. Yuugi was kind, Jouno was feisty, Yami was sexy (although not to me), Ryou was friendly, Bakura was slightly scary, and there were others. One guy in particular interested me, though. His name was Yami Malik.
We all went to a party early one night. It was at one of the friend's house. I got up the courage to dance but refrained from do so anyway. So, I hung out around the punch bowl and bobbed my head to the music. A hand touched my shoulder. Yami Malik pulled me aside and kissed me. There was no reason behind it, yet it lasted for decades. He broke off and drifted into the throbbing crowd of dancers. I sighed at the luck that no one else had seen it, but I wish someone had.
The party ended and Jouno drove me home. I stepped out and graciously thanked him for taking me out for some fun. Partying was so different from my normal life. I loved it. The house lights were all out when I walked in. I checked my watch. 12:37 am. I had promised to be home by 11:00. The living room light was on. My father was sitting on a chair with the toaster in his lap. He held a flat screwdriver in one hand and was fumbling at the machine's innards. All the sudden, he yelled. "Stupid piece of crap! I have been trying to fix this thing for hours!"
"Hello, Dad," I almost whispered. "I'm home."
My father became aware of my presence. He stood up and turned around to face me. As usual, his face was beet red. He drew his arm back and pitched the toaster at me. I instinctually ducked. It crashed against the wall behind me. I gave him a frightened glance. "You're late, you little whore!" he shouted. "You were supposed to be back hours ago! Otogi got back here at the right time, why couldn't you!?"
I straightened myself up. Submissively, I took a nervous step towards his intimidating frame. "I - I - I'm sorry, Dad."
His face became even redder. "Did you say sorry, you idiot?" He gripped the tool in his hand. His rage spilled over the proverbial rim. My father reached up with the screwdriver slashed the point along the right side of my face. I could feel the cold raking somewhere on my numb skin. He finished his slice and then dropped the tool to the ground. There was a mirror beside me. I turned to look. A deep cut had been engraved over my eye. I tried to open my eyelids, but pain seared every nerve in my skin. I brought my hand up to touch the wound. Blood tipped my fingers. I screamed bloody murder and fell to my knees. The last thing I remember from the night is my father's arm cradling my head and my blood soaked tears staining his collar. After that, I ran.
-
The faint cries of my father calling me back might have been a false memory. I had so many things jumbling my thoughts. The night was long. I had found a park bench to sleep on. A lady had given me a cotton ball to hold on my bloody eye. She asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I truly didn't want to. People had caused this pain and people could not just take it away. I slept on the cold metal seat all night. Sleep came easily. I was exhausted from running block after block. The hours had taken me out of the suburbs and in the city's depths.
I awoke under the scorching rays of the sun. My skin sizzled as stumbled into consciousness. I got up from the bench and began to move. The sidewalks were busy and seemed to sway. It was so hot. I walked among the crowd in my day-old clothes. Some people gawked at me. It was probably from my filthy appearance. My skin felt dirty. Not from the combination of sweat and dust that had accumulated; it was just a feeling.
-
And that is where I ended up in the beginning of my tale. Alone and abused.
I heaved myself up from under the tree. There had to be somewhere I could go. Into the sidewalks again, I looked around. I passed by a store window and reversed my motion to get a better look. A blacked haired reflection stared back from the glass pane. I dropped my hand holding the cotton. With my right eyelids closed, a perfect line was cut vertically over them; all from my father's own handiwork. Blood was smudged all over my pale skin. I opened it. My vision had to adjust to the bright light. Then I saw it, in the middle of the eye. A greenish white circle looked back with a slight indentation in the center. I gasped. My father's blow had not just scarred me. Now, my right eye was blind.
---
What will Ray do now? You will meet more characters, I promise. Mr. Ryuuji sounds like Mr. Jounouchi. Oh well. Please review.