This chapter is an attempt to stall. I thought of another plot, and...well, it's hard to develop, but it's possible.
begin chapter
Bakura watched the prince walk back into the palace. Then he stood and stretched, and gave a big yawn, for he just woke up. He continued his journey back to his hiding place. He walked past the meadows were he had once see Yami play with his dog. He smiled a bit and remembered the joy he used to find with his mother at the same meadow. (Trip down memory lane.)
He had been very young then, his mother would take him out at a little before dawn, when it was still bright but most of Egypt was still asleep. The air was sweet from the dew. The moment he was at the meadow, with his little agile feet, he would run on the damp grass and roll everywhere. His mother would try to catch up to him. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. Once, he found a dandelion and ran over to show his mother.
"Mum, mum! Look what I found!!!"
"Bakura, it's only a stem, the seeds must have scattered when you were running over!"
Bakura's childish smile turned into a confused look, trying to comprehend what happened. "I don't get it." He finally said, scratching his head.
She showed Bakura by demonstrating with another dandelion.
Bakura's smile returned. "OOOOHHHH, I GET IT!!!"
He searched around for another one. "I can't find anymore." He whimpered a bit.
"Oh, Bakura!" and both of them giggling, they fell onto the damp ground and gazed up at the sky, now usually light pastel colors with pink stains here and there.
Bakura smirked a bit at how innocent and naïve and PATHETIC he used to be. But he tried to bask in the memory for as long as possible, he had felt...happy. He had spent a lot of time looking at the sky during different parts of the day with his mother. His favorite part of the day was, and still is, nighttime. His mother used to tell him stories about the stars, how they came to be, who made which star. He currently liked nighttime because it brings a curtain of darkness and is suitable for tomb robbing.
Some houses started appearing. In front of one house was a senet board. He frowned a little at it. It reminded him of the discrimination he faced as a child. The incident happened when he was still very young.
One day he ran home, tears streaming down his face. "Mum! Mummy!" He choked.
"Dear Ra! What's the matter?!" She bent over and wiped away his tears. "Bakura, take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong."
He sniffed, "Why do I look different from most people?"
"That's just the way you are. You can't help it. They can help it but refuse to." She paused. "Why are you so sad?"
"Well, a girl waved at me and asked me to play senet with her and her brother. The brother was somewhere else at that time and when he came back he screamed and told his mom and his mom hit me with a broom and called me child of Set (A/N:I think it's the god of something bad, I may be wrong but I think I saw it in another fanfic). And I ran away." He stopped to take a deep breath. "I have an owie (A/n: is that how you spell it?)." He held up the back of his shirt and showed his mother a long gash on his back.
She bent over and stroked it. Bakura winced in pain. "Owwwww! Be careful!"
She smiled a little and cleaned it with a bowl of water, then bandaged it up with a cloth.
Bakura tugged softly at the end of the cloth so it wouldn't come lose. "I don't like other people. I only like you." He paused a bit. "And maybe that old lady called Amunet that likes me and tells me stories and says I'm helpful."
His mother laughed and took Bakura's hand. "Come on, I'll let you rest up until supper."
Bakura sighed at this memory. That was the way life was for the first nine years of his life, his mother was his only source of happiness. He passed his old house. Another family had moved in it. He saw the family, still sleeping at this time of day on four mats spread across the room. They seemed so peaceful. If only that was what it was like for him. Tomb robbing was definitely not something he would chose to do. But it is the only thing he can do. The people painted and carved on the tomb walls did not mind what color he was. Nor did the deceased pharaohs. And they don't give a rat's ass about Bakura being there and stealing anything he can get to. The carvings cannot see and the pharaoh is, well...dead.
The day his father came home changed his life forever.
Bakura was nine then. And he wasn't looking forward to his father's return. He had come back once when he was four and beat him so hard that he was knocked unconscious. When he woke up two days later, his father had already left.
His father was an army captain. His temper and craze to succeed made him very suitable for such a position. One time, he had made a huge mistake and split the army. The army lost a gruesome, brutal loss, and when the second half caught up, they were slaughtered as well. The pharaoh fired him and he had to go home to his wife and nine year old son.
He came back in the evening, without much money and wanted to do away with Bakura.
"Look at him! He's only another mouth to feed, and we'll never be repaid! He'll never get a job, who'd want to hire a freak?!"
The word 'freak' cut through Bakura like a blade. Of course, his mother defended him. "Freak?! Don't you dare call your own son a freak. I'd like to let you know that not many people care how much paler white haired people look anymore! And some of they have succeeded too. That girl, Moswen...she became a...well...she very wealthy." She couldn't go on, she knew Bakura would still face discrimination.
"She became a concubine to the pharaoh! THAT'S what she became. But can Bakura be a concubine?! No!!! He cannot!"
"Well, how about the doctor of the royal family? His hair is silver."
"His parents were rich, they could AFFORD to keep him AND give him an education. Look around, are WE rich?! NO, I think not!" he paused and turned around to look at Bakura. "Well, maybe we could make some money off of him. We could sell him to the pharaoh as a servant."
"That's for orphans and families that very desperately need money. We haven't sunk to that level yet! You will not destroy Bakura's life for a few gold pieces. You'll spend them all in a day!" She paused. "Why do you want to get rid of Bakura so badly, why?"
"We are still young, we can have another one that wont face as much discrimination and one child would be well...cheaper."
"Bakura's not going...anywhere."
"I can kill him right here, right now." He whipped out a knife, Bakura froze. He watched the blade catch the light of the fire, it was blinding. He advanced toward Bakura. And raised his knife. And without hesitation, brought it down.
"No, stop!" His mother jumped in front of his father, restraining him.
His father growled, by now he was giddy with rage. "YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!!!" He swung around and stabbed her in the back.
She gasped, and fell, limp to the ground. Blood staining the back of her white dress. Bakura screamed. "You killed her!!! You killed my mum!" But he didn't move out of his spot.
His father pulled the knife out of her back; it glistened with the blood of Bakura's only source of joy, for his whole life. He glared at the knife. He was dead...for sure.
He look up to see the glistening of the knife again, a drop of crimson fell on Bakura's cheek. He watched the knife come down. He moved away, and ran to the door, his right cheek stinging in agony. He could feel droplets of blood dripping down, and held it with his hand to stop the flow. He reached for the doorknob. His father grabbed his arm roughly. "Now there is nothing to stop me." Bakura struggled under his father's grip, his tears stinging his face even more. He brought the knife down midway, but stopped. He seemed to freeze, but his grip on Bakura's arm became even tighter. Bakura opened his eyes to look up at his father. What had come over him?
Bakura was dragged over to the trapdoor that Bakura's mother had always warned him not to play with or explore. His father grabbed the chain on the top and chained Bakura's foot to the top of the trap door, and then he pocketed the key. "I just realized that I don't have a wife anymore, so until I remarry, you will stay alive to do all of the chores. And you will some how obtain money for me. Ra help you if you don't do as I say."
Bakura hated that memory, but he would have it forever. He ran his hand over the scar on his cheek.
For the next two years, Bakura cooked, cleaned, and did errands for other people to make money. But those people always paid Bakura's father and made sure Bakura didn't run away. Many times he wanted desperately to run away. But he could not figure out how to pick the lock on the trapdoor, and had no freedom, whatsoever.
When he was eleven, he was sitting on the trapdoor, and trying to open the lock, then he heard a click. He froze and smiled, he pulled the lock off of his foot and got up. It was late at night and his father was asleep. He had never felt so free. He unlocked the door and opened it. The night was waiting for him.
(a/n: I was gonna stop here, but then I thought 'what the heck, a little more wouldn't hurt.')
He ran out of his house, and ran up and down the street. He breathed in the cold air and went to explore the city. He stopped at the noises of a boy pleading with and older man. He turned around and ran back. And sure enough, he saw boy with platinum-blond hair and a taller guy wrapped up in clothes trying to steal something from him. (a/n: here comes the classic way to make a friend.)
Bakura ran into the alley and pulled the man away from the boy. It was easy since the man was not expecting this. But being much bigger than he was, Bakura found himself smashed against the wall of the alley. He elbowed the man, who shrunk back in pain. But quickly recovered.
Bakura grabbed the boy's wrist and fled away from the alley, the man ran after them. Bakura stopped, breathing heavily, "Hold on." He picked up a rock and threw it at the man's foot, since he was bare foot, the rock cut into this foot and he had to stop for a while to pull it out. Bakura looked around and found another alley. Then spotted one and ran in. (a/n: Thank Ra for alleys.)
They waited in silence, and finally saw the man limp by. They collapsed into a heap on the ground, trying to catch their breath.
"Thank you," the boy finally said.
Bakura nodded. "I'm Bakura by the way, what's your name?"
"Marik."
"So what was he trying to steal from you?"
"Some money."
"You should have just given it to him."
"No, then he would also want the book of scriptures."
"Oh, you can read? That is so cool!"
"Yes, my family carves hieroglyphs in the temples and tombs."
"So what are you doing out so late?"
Marik become silent at this. He blushed a little. "I got lost."
"You got lost?! Are you new or something."
"No, you see, my sister Isis got summoned to do some work at the pharaoh's court. And my parents went to a shrine to do some praying for a week. So it's just me and our pets. I wanted to see the world outside of my house. So I snuck out, it's the first time in my life I've been out doors."
Bakura was awed. "Really? You have never been out doors before?"
"No, I'm not allowed."
Bakura looked up at the sky, it was almost dawn now. "Well, I should be heading back now."
"Alright." Marik stood up and left the alley. "Bye."
"Bye." Bakura stood up as well and headed back toward his house.
But he stopped at the meadows first to play a while.
end chapter
It's not Bakura's WHOLE history, I'll continue in the next chapter. I had to hurry though because my silly sister wanted to play computer games. Now she knows I write fanfics. But my parents still don't know. Sorry if there are lots of spelling and grammer mistakes. Please review!!!
begin chapter
Bakura watched the prince walk back into the palace. Then he stood and stretched, and gave a big yawn, for he just woke up. He continued his journey back to his hiding place. He walked past the meadows were he had once see Yami play with his dog. He smiled a bit and remembered the joy he used to find with his mother at the same meadow. (Trip down memory lane.)
He had been very young then, his mother would take him out at a little before dawn, when it was still bright but most of Egypt was still asleep. The air was sweet from the dew. The moment he was at the meadow, with his little agile feet, he would run on the damp grass and roll everywhere. His mother would try to catch up to him. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. Once, he found a dandelion and ran over to show his mother.
"Mum, mum! Look what I found!!!"
"Bakura, it's only a stem, the seeds must have scattered when you were running over!"
Bakura's childish smile turned into a confused look, trying to comprehend what happened. "I don't get it." He finally said, scratching his head.
She showed Bakura by demonstrating with another dandelion.
Bakura's smile returned. "OOOOHHHH, I GET IT!!!"
He searched around for another one. "I can't find anymore." He whimpered a bit.
"Oh, Bakura!" and both of them giggling, they fell onto the damp ground and gazed up at the sky, now usually light pastel colors with pink stains here and there.
Bakura smirked a bit at how innocent and naïve and PATHETIC he used to be. But he tried to bask in the memory for as long as possible, he had felt...happy. He had spent a lot of time looking at the sky during different parts of the day with his mother. His favorite part of the day was, and still is, nighttime. His mother used to tell him stories about the stars, how they came to be, who made which star. He currently liked nighttime because it brings a curtain of darkness and is suitable for tomb robbing.
Some houses started appearing. In front of one house was a senet board. He frowned a little at it. It reminded him of the discrimination he faced as a child. The incident happened when he was still very young.
One day he ran home, tears streaming down his face. "Mum! Mummy!" He choked.
"Dear Ra! What's the matter?!" She bent over and wiped away his tears. "Bakura, take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong."
He sniffed, "Why do I look different from most people?"
"That's just the way you are. You can't help it. They can help it but refuse to." She paused. "Why are you so sad?"
"Well, a girl waved at me and asked me to play senet with her and her brother. The brother was somewhere else at that time and when he came back he screamed and told his mom and his mom hit me with a broom and called me child of Set (A/N:I think it's the god of something bad, I may be wrong but I think I saw it in another fanfic). And I ran away." He stopped to take a deep breath. "I have an owie (A/n: is that how you spell it?)." He held up the back of his shirt and showed his mother a long gash on his back.
She bent over and stroked it. Bakura winced in pain. "Owwwww! Be careful!"
She smiled a little and cleaned it with a bowl of water, then bandaged it up with a cloth.
Bakura tugged softly at the end of the cloth so it wouldn't come lose. "I don't like other people. I only like you." He paused a bit. "And maybe that old lady called Amunet that likes me and tells me stories and says I'm helpful."
His mother laughed and took Bakura's hand. "Come on, I'll let you rest up until supper."
Bakura sighed at this memory. That was the way life was for the first nine years of his life, his mother was his only source of happiness. He passed his old house. Another family had moved in it. He saw the family, still sleeping at this time of day on four mats spread across the room. They seemed so peaceful. If only that was what it was like for him. Tomb robbing was definitely not something he would chose to do. But it is the only thing he can do. The people painted and carved on the tomb walls did not mind what color he was. Nor did the deceased pharaohs. And they don't give a rat's ass about Bakura being there and stealing anything he can get to. The carvings cannot see and the pharaoh is, well...dead.
The day his father came home changed his life forever.
Bakura was nine then. And he wasn't looking forward to his father's return. He had come back once when he was four and beat him so hard that he was knocked unconscious. When he woke up two days later, his father had already left.
His father was an army captain. His temper and craze to succeed made him very suitable for such a position. One time, he had made a huge mistake and split the army. The army lost a gruesome, brutal loss, and when the second half caught up, they were slaughtered as well. The pharaoh fired him and he had to go home to his wife and nine year old son.
He came back in the evening, without much money and wanted to do away with Bakura.
"Look at him! He's only another mouth to feed, and we'll never be repaid! He'll never get a job, who'd want to hire a freak?!"
The word 'freak' cut through Bakura like a blade. Of course, his mother defended him. "Freak?! Don't you dare call your own son a freak. I'd like to let you know that not many people care how much paler white haired people look anymore! And some of they have succeeded too. That girl, Moswen...she became a...well...she very wealthy." She couldn't go on, she knew Bakura would still face discrimination.
"She became a concubine to the pharaoh! THAT'S what she became. But can Bakura be a concubine?! No!!! He cannot!"
"Well, how about the doctor of the royal family? His hair is silver."
"His parents were rich, they could AFFORD to keep him AND give him an education. Look around, are WE rich?! NO, I think not!" he paused and turned around to look at Bakura. "Well, maybe we could make some money off of him. We could sell him to the pharaoh as a servant."
"That's for orphans and families that very desperately need money. We haven't sunk to that level yet! You will not destroy Bakura's life for a few gold pieces. You'll spend them all in a day!" She paused. "Why do you want to get rid of Bakura so badly, why?"
"We are still young, we can have another one that wont face as much discrimination and one child would be well...cheaper."
"Bakura's not going...anywhere."
"I can kill him right here, right now." He whipped out a knife, Bakura froze. He watched the blade catch the light of the fire, it was blinding. He advanced toward Bakura. And raised his knife. And without hesitation, brought it down.
"No, stop!" His mother jumped in front of his father, restraining him.
His father growled, by now he was giddy with rage. "YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!!!" He swung around and stabbed her in the back.
She gasped, and fell, limp to the ground. Blood staining the back of her white dress. Bakura screamed. "You killed her!!! You killed my mum!" But he didn't move out of his spot.
His father pulled the knife out of her back; it glistened with the blood of Bakura's only source of joy, for his whole life. He glared at the knife. He was dead...for sure.
He look up to see the glistening of the knife again, a drop of crimson fell on Bakura's cheek. He watched the knife come down. He moved away, and ran to the door, his right cheek stinging in agony. He could feel droplets of blood dripping down, and held it with his hand to stop the flow. He reached for the doorknob. His father grabbed his arm roughly. "Now there is nothing to stop me." Bakura struggled under his father's grip, his tears stinging his face even more. He brought the knife down midway, but stopped. He seemed to freeze, but his grip on Bakura's arm became even tighter. Bakura opened his eyes to look up at his father. What had come over him?
Bakura was dragged over to the trapdoor that Bakura's mother had always warned him not to play with or explore. His father grabbed the chain on the top and chained Bakura's foot to the top of the trap door, and then he pocketed the key. "I just realized that I don't have a wife anymore, so until I remarry, you will stay alive to do all of the chores. And you will some how obtain money for me. Ra help you if you don't do as I say."
Bakura hated that memory, but he would have it forever. He ran his hand over the scar on his cheek.
For the next two years, Bakura cooked, cleaned, and did errands for other people to make money. But those people always paid Bakura's father and made sure Bakura didn't run away. Many times he wanted desperately to run away. But he could not figure out how to pick the lock on the trapdoor, and had no freedom, whatsoever.
When he was eleven, he was sitting on the trapdoor, and trying to open the lock, then he heard a click. He froze and smiled, he pulled the lock off of his foot and got up. It was late at night and his father was asleep. He had never felt so free. He unlocked the door and opened it. The night was waiting for him.
(a/n: I was gonna stop here, but then I thought 'what the heck, a little more wouldn't hurt.')
He ran out of his house, and ran up and down the street. He breathed in the cold air and went to explore the city. He stopped at the noises of a boy pleading with and older man. He turned around and ran back. And sure enough, he saw boy with platinum-blond hair and a taller guy wrapped up in clothes trying to steal something from him. (a/n: here comes the classic way to make a friend.)
Bakura ran into the alley and pulled the man away from the boy. It was easy since the man was not expecting this. But being much bigger than he was, Bakura found himself smashed against the wall of the alley. He elbowed the man, who shrunk back in pain. But quickly recovered.
Bakura grabbed the boy's wrist and fled away from the alley, the man ran after them. Bakura stopped, breathing heavily, "Hold on." He picked up a rock and threw it at the man's foot, since he was bare foot, the rock cut into this foot and he had to stop for a while to pull it out. Bakura looked around and found another alley. Then spotted one and ran in. (a/n: Thank Ra for alleys.)
They waited in silence, and finally saw the man limp by. They collapsed into a heap on the ground, trying to catch their breath.
"Thank you," the boy finally said.
Bakura nodded. "I'm Bakura by the way, what's your name?"
"Marik."
"So what was he trying to steal from you?"
"Some money."
"You should have just given it to him."
"No, then he would also want the book of scriptures."
"Oh, you can read? That is so cool!"
"Yes, my family carves hieroglyphs in the temples and tombs."
"So what are you doing out so late?"
Marik become silent at this. He blushed a little. "I got lost."
"You got lost?! Are you new or something."
"No, you see, my sister Isis got summoned to do some work at the pharaoh's court. And my parents went to a shrine to do some praying for a week. So it's just me and our pets. I wanted to see the world outside of my house. So I snuck out, it's the first time in my life I've been out doors."
Bakura was awed. "Really? You have never been out doors before?"
"No, I'm not allowed."
Bakura looked up at the sky, it was almost dawn now. "Well, I should be heading back now."
"Alright." Marik stood up and left the alley. "Bye."
"Bye." Bakura stood up as well and headed back toward his house.
But he stopped at the meadows first to play a while.
end chapter
It's not Bakura's WHOLE history, I'll continue in the next chapter. I had to hurry though because my silly sister wanted to play computer games. Now she knows I write fanfics. But my parents still don't know. Sorry if there are lots of spelling and grammer mistakes. Please review!!!