They Tell Me I'm Not Alone
By Riyu Lunin
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Chapter 2: Sixteen Words To Heartbreak
Nothing was ever really the same.
And I could never forget. Often times I cried myself to sleep, remembering. I might've been insane. Because whenever I closed my eyes, I could see him.
But I always had to remember. He had told me to.
"Ryou! Would you mind bringing up my bag?"
"Yeah, Dad," he sighed, waving to his father to show that he would, "of course."
Well past midnight, Ryou grabbed his bag and his father's, tucking one under each arm carefully. Thus began the trek up to the manor.
It was a dull and morbid house; three floors along with an attic and basement, probably all long overdue for a thorough cleaning.
The walls outside were a tarnished white, probably a spectacular color in years gone by, and a high arch was held over the entryway by two marble pillars, cobwebs clinging to what seemed like every expanse imaginable. It frightened him. Who knew when those age-old columns would decide to collapse, bringing down the stone arch with it and crushing whatever terribly unlucky person might be standing under it?
Shaking off the paranoia for the time being, he stepped up to the door of their new house. This was it.
"Come here, sweetie!"
He turned around quickly, eyes filled with fear, to see his portly stepmother under a streetlight, lugging a ridiculously large trunk up the hill. Well, trying to, anyways. He considered running. He knew what she wanted. But he couldn't, glued to spot with a frightened look set into his face.
"Y-Yes, Stepmother?" (A/N: Ooo... sounds like another Cinderella, huh?)
She stopped short, dropping the handle to the trunk with a loud 'thud' and grinning. She strolled up to where Ryou was standing and smiled. The kind of smile that told him he was in hell. She patted his shoulder twice and then removed a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse. Rubbing some on her hands, her smile became a full-fledged grin.
It was her way of saying he was too filthy to be touched.
"You'll bring that up for me, won't you?" She asked in a low, mockingly sweet voice. She was a lady who strived for elegance. She would flaunt her beauty and string along people with her petite charm. What there was, or lack thereof, was far from petite and beautiful. More along the lines of slimy.
The result? A chalky, pale faced woman who somewhat resembled a clown, or so Ryou had decided. She would actually be presentable if she didn't apply make-up to the point that it caked to her face.
"Yes," he replied sadly. No sooner had he spoken, did she hook her left leg in between his ankles and pulled, making him lose balance.
He toppled to the dirt, the bags that had been so carefully held under each thin arm falling with him. He could feel the tears coming again. 'Don't cry,' he begged himself. 'Just don't let her see you spill more tears. She'll have a reason to hurt you again.'
She stared down at him, lackluster green eyes glinting in sick amusement. She waddled off into the house without another word.
And he sobbed, for what seemed like forever, on the dirt that lead to his new home.
Finally gaining control over himself, he sat up, wiping his eyes and staring blankly at a flickering lamppost across the way. He hugged his knees to his chest and sighed. "Please..."
It sounded so terrified and hopeless. But then, he found the final truth in the fact that there was no reply. He really was all alone.
Slowly getting to his feet, he rubbed his shoulder and picked up the bags that had fallen. He placed them near the door and walked back down the dirt slope, ready to try and drag her trunk up; a seemingly impossible task in all it's entirety.
Now, being a lanky, frail child had always stuck with him, even as he grew into a young man. It was always people's eyes on him. When he found the courage to walk down the street, they stared. Everywhere he would look, he would find at least one pair of hollow eyes.
Nevertheless, the years had turned him into a beautiful creature. But, the circumstances were never kind on his mind. He was afraid of people. All their staring made him feel filthy; he always knew that every one had their own horrible opinion about what he was.
And they did. They always did. It was human nature. Once, he would always remember the day splendidly, he had been lying in the grass at a park. Not truly knowing what he had been doing there, but it did in fact seem like a wonderful place to escape.
Lying in the cool, lush grass on a beautiful spring day was what had brought him the peace he needed. He kept his eyes closed, though, for one reason. If he couldn't see people, he wouldn't feel frightened. If he couldn't see the bad things, they couldn't get him.
Until, a pudgy little boy and another tall, stick-figure girl wandered over, and looked down at him. He opened his eyes, aware of the prior footsteps, and stared back up at them, blinking curiously as they studied him critically. The boy bent down first and poked him in the side, making him jump, eyes wide. He sat up immediately, trying to back away.
"He's funny!" The boy guffawed, pointing a round, plump finger in his direction.
The girl grinned and squatted down, looking Ryou over. "What's wrong? You seem frightened," she stated smugly, raising an eyebrow. He backed up once more, shutting his eyes. He could hear her moving closer. But why... why wouldn't they just go away?
"You have really pretty hair..." she murmured, reaching out to touch it. He opened his eyes quickly and stared, ducking away from her hand.
"You're a freak! Are you a boy or girl?! Is that a wig?!" She finally screeched in annoyance, leaping after him. She grabbed his hair and pulled. Right then, he could've cried. But he was used to it, after all. It was one of his mother's favorite pastimes.
He ran from the park that day, terribly horrified and embarrassed as they shouted after him. Why couldn't people just... leave him alone?
In truth, his stepmother had caused it. Implanting a deep fear in him. Force-feeding him the knowledge that she was doing the best for him; that she was the only one who knew how he felt. That by hurting him, she was saving him from them.
He sighed deeply and gave the trunk's handle a hard tug. It wasn't enough. Sleepily, he tried again, with the same result. It wouldn't budge. He grasped the handle once again and pulled. Yet, this time, his hands slipped and he stumbled backwards, landing on the ground with a soft 'uff!'
It was impossible! "She packed... rocks," he said strangely, folding his hands in his lap.
"I have to tell her I couldn't do it. Maybe... she'll understand?" It was as likely as millions of clones of his stepmother raining from the sky and proceeding to take over the world. Well, what was left of it. With the impact of millions of big buxom, clown women falling everywhere, the world might resemble a great, big ball of Swiss cheese.
Yes. That was it.
Ryou smiled sadly and trudged back up to the house, then beginning the timid search for his stepmother. Maybe he would get lucky. Maybe his father would be with her and she wouldn't be able to hurt him right away.
He searched room after room, only to find them all barren and dusty. Well, it wasn't all that odd. This house had been on the market for years; with no offers to buy it. Was it because of a murder that was committed there? No. Was it because of terrible, bloodcurdling screams ringing out from the house at exactly midnight? Not at all. Was it because the foundation was crumbling and probably wouldn't last another year? Maybe, but that sounded dull, right? The mold practically coating the house like it was a loaf of six month old bread? Could be!
And then, he came to a room near the end of one of the many halls. Slowly opening the door, he peeked inside. What made him so cautious about this door, he did not know. But it turned out he had reason to be.
In the center of the otherwise plain and empty room stood a grand four-poster bed, with a lime-green canopy; and parents sleeping in it. He wanted to vomit. The way his father held her so lovingly made him jealous and sick. The way he saw her through rose-colored glasses and no matter how many times they would be knocked off, he would just pull out another pair.
Return to blissful ignorance.
Like a lion trying to love a frog?
Hmm... not quite. Like a butterfly trying to love a cobra?
Never. Snakes are relatively skinny, Stepmother is not. Besides... how did his dad even relate to a butterfly?
Like an alien trying to love a radioactive mushroom? Sure, it had no relevance at all, but it made Ryou almost smile as he slowly shut the door.
He knew why they had their bed up so soon, anyway. She had pitched an absolute screaming fit over having to sleep on a mattress. Even for only a night. It was expected to be because she always made it sink to the floor. Tired of all the yelling, his father had worked nearly three hours hauling the pieces up and putting it back together. But really. It was worth it, for the sake of his eardrums and those of everyone who resided within a four block radius.
He walked down the hall, down the stairs, and straight to his soon-to-be bedroom. In the middle of the floor lay a new mattress, a baby blue blanket planted on top.
Well, he wouldn't freeze, anyways.
Shortly after removing his shoes, Ryou collapsed, landing on the spring-filled mattress. Looking to the corner of the room with weary eyes, he found his bag had already been brought in. One less thing to worry about then. He never worried about who had been kind enough to do so.
Moments later, limbs exhausted and mind worn-down, he fell asleep. No tears spilled this time.
"Goodnight, Ryou."
"Get up."
"Mmm...?"
"Get up!"
He opened his eyes to a pair of angry forest green, now staring straight at him. He knew those eyes right away. Ryou gulped audibly, swallowing over what seemed to be a large golf ball suddenly stuck in his throat. What had he done now? His hands self-consciously went to cover the bruises on his arms.
His stepmother simply smiled.
"Trying to hide something from me?" She asked, voice mockingly sweet and inquiring.
He hurriedly shook his head.
"Well then. Did you bring up my trunk like I asked you to, sweetheart?"
Oh no. Oh no. His eyes grew wide and he bit his lower lip. He began to shiver again then, the lack of warmth making his body hurt. Yes, that's it. Concentrate on the prickling sensation so that it would hurt less when the first hit was placed.
"Well? I'm waiting for an answer," she stated softly, grabbing hold of his chin, "so tell me."
"I-I..."
"You didn't bring it up, is that it? IS THAT IT?! Did I hit the nail on the head, darling Ryou?"
He winced as her nails dug into the corners of his mouth, moving his head up and down in a nod.
"I thought as much."
She stood, dragging Ryou up as well. It was then she finally noticed his convulsive shivering. "Aww... do you need your pills, sweetheart?" Like a puppet, his head formed the familiar nod once again with the help of her fingers. His breathing became short and choppy.
"Your pills are in my trunk," she said simply.
"B-But..." Now that wasn't true. He had put them in his bag before they left. If only... he could see straight enough, he might be able to find them.
She was lying. "No t-they're not," he said softly.
"What was that?"
"They're-- AH!"
She tossed him to the floor, extracting a cry from pale, supple lips. His right shoulder blade made contact with the wall, a dull 'thud'; nothing more. But damn did it hurt being thrown to the floor. 'Like... a rag doll.'
Ryou felt like he was going to be sick. But this was his chance, wasn't it? He'd dry swallow a pill and everything would be ok, right?
He carefully crawled in the direction of his duffel bag, following the wall to the corner in which it sat. There it was. He unzipped the side-pocket and rummaged around, feeling around for the all too familiar orange bottle.
Tap. Yes.
"I'll allow you to take your pills, but nothing to eat until you get that trunk up here," she suddenly whispered in his ear.
"O-Ok."
She smashed her heel into the middle of Ryou's back, forcing him down. Quickly placing the pill on his tongue, he winced. "How dare you?!"
But he hadn't done anything wrong! He was sure of it! The heel of her black shoes began to feel as though it would impale him. She pressed harder, and harder, and harder... He began to panic. His body had yet to cease shaking; the constant flow of cold becoming harsh and mind-numbing. He couldn't get away.
"Ryou, I'm going to tell you something fun about disobeying me. The more often you do it, the more lessons you get. That means more bruises. You might resemble a grape soon enough," she said venomously, a smirk upturning the corners of her cherry red lips. "Did I turn you into a masochist? Is that? Do you enjoy being in pain?"
"No..." That wasn't it at all.
"Your actions speak louder than your words, sweetheart. Is this going to happen again?" She asked, pushing more weight onto her heel that dug so deeply into his skin. How did his shirt find it's way off anyways? He remembered falling asleep with all his clothes intact.
"N-no," Ryou whispered in reply.
His stepmother let up, only slightly, and chuckled. He suspected that she was done. Raising himself up weakly, he was met with a harsh reality. She slammed her heel right back down with twice as much force, causing Ryou to fall down and his chin to collide with the floor.
He didn't make a sound this time.
"Good boy!" She exclaimed victoriously, leaning down to pat him on the head, and then strolled out of the room. He heard the clack, clack of her high heeled shoes and the snap of the cap on the bottle of sanitizer. Filthy.
He was disgusting. Was that it? Was that why people stared? Why his parents hated him?
It had to be, he decided.
He spotted the pill bottle poking out of his bag. Grabbing it and shaking out another, he dry swallowed it and stood up warily. He'd have to find a way to bring her trunk up. Things would only get worse if he didn't. Pulling a shirt out of his bag, he slipped it on and started out the door. Each step hurt.
Yet eventually, he made it outside. Looking down the hill, he noticed said trunk was no where in sight. His eyes widened. Maybe someone had stolen it? A two-hundred and fifty pound drag queen perhaps? Only such a person could even want his stepmother's clothes. Whatever the case, he might never have to see it again. He'd get beaten for sure, but he might never have to see it again.
Upon entering the house again, what Ryou saw made his knees weak. No...
Her trunk was set only a few feet from the door, out in plain view. Sitting right there. She lied, just to hurt him again. Just to see him in pain. Upon hearing the front door close, a familiar red head of hair poked out into the entryway. Seeing Ryou standing there, she grinned.
"Oh, dear. I found my trunk just as soon as you walked out, but I didn't want to waste my time walking all the way down there to tell you. I'm making a special breakfast for the two of us, my husband and I, so I hope you don't mind waiting to eat? I'll leave out whatever's left and you can have it, since he and I will be going out afterwards." With this, her head disappeared beyond the doorway again.
There wouldn't be anything left. She'd stuff herself to the brim just to be pleased with herself that she was driving him to the brink of anorexia. She'd aimed for him to be anemic and she'd hit her target. Ryou figured she'd hit it once again. But really, what did it matter?
A never ending cycle. A complete loop of more and more anguish. She loved hearing him cry; but it was a rare thing, indeed. He only cried when he was alone. When he could say those sixteen words and feel his heart break again.
"I'll place a kiss under each eye and always be there to say I love you."
They were the words inscribed on his pink bead necklace. He had not noticed them for quite some time, but when he turned fourteen, he had once again been alone for his birthday. Studying the necklace in despair, he realized when lined up correctly, this is exactly what those words read.
But Bakura had never come back. He'd killed Ryou's heart by breaking one promise. On the day of his fourteenth birthday, he had expected the best. He'd waited all night and day to be rescued. To be loved again. It never came to be, and something died in him that day.
He became the disgusting, vile, hated creature he knew that he was.
Ryou smiled forlornly. Trudging to his room, he rested his hand on the cold doorknob. All he wanted was to fall back asleep. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Now, something made him anxious. Opening the door slowly, he peered in.
"It can't be..." He murmured in disbelief, stepping inside.
The person leaning against the window pane smiled, waving shortly. "Miss me, kid?"
Ryou was in an absolute state of shock. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again..."
Author Rant: I finished it! It's been a while, but forgive me? No excuse but my lazy attitude, I guess. Anyways, yeah. Cliffhangers SUCK! You know it, I know it. But gee, how hard is it to figure this one out? Not very. I have the basic outline for this, and the next chapter will be out whenever it's out. Thank 'Science of Selling Yourself Short' and 'River Below' for motivating me to finish this. Good music is a damn good thing.
Review Replies:
Devi D. 666:
Thank you, first reviewer person! Here it is! Sorry for the long wait, y'know? I intend on finishing this fic completely, so no worries. No matter how long it takes, I'm a determined little weirdo! O.o Once again, many, many thanks for the review!
Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru:
I guess I got the emotion down right, huh? Awesome stuff! I'm uberly happy that you thought it was good! I really tried to make it alright, even if I'm a little inexperienced. Poor Ryou and Bakura indeed! But, I'm really wondering. Would people like a happy or tragic ending? Meh, I'll ponder it later. Thank you for the great review!
Maruken:
Yes, Bakura and Ryou/Angst and Fluff go very well together. But, add in a slice of plot twist and desperation, and whatdya get?
Adrian: This fic?
... Well damn. I thought I had it there for a second. I guess I should stop rambling. O.o' Anyways, later! Thank ya!
DojomistressAmbyChan:
I think I almost fell over laughing. Oh my god. I read your review and re-read what I wrote again. No offense taken! A few more steps and I could've made Bakura a pedophile! Without even realizing it, too; which is the scary part. And yes, we have the evil stepmother. No, she won't get squished by a house or melt when someone throws water on her. Yeah, it's disappointing. But, I will find a way to make her life a living hell by the time this is over. Someway, somehow. Haha, have a great day! Much praise for the fabulous comment!
Pork Steak the Grande:
'Allo there! Well, may I just say, that was some review! I think I cried out of happiness. And no, much to my own dismay, I have never seen 'The Butterfly Effect.' o.o I'll make it a point to rent it later. Yep, long wait for this chapter. Many apologies! As for the evil woman being a redhead... I just picked a color? But yes, it always seems to be redheads that make great 'villains.' Would've been neon green...
Adrian: Had I not talked her out of it.
Yeah, it's true. Much love and peace out! I loved the review, here's the next chapter!
AnGeL CuDdLeS 16:
Bwaha, angst is ALMOST as good as fluff, no? I eat it, breathe it, sleep it. Ok, maybe that's a bit excessive... Anyways! I finally got this chapter done, thanks to some great music and another instance of me being grounded! Cute is what I was going for, so GOOD! One of the few people, huh? Well thanks! That totally makes my day! Hope you like the update!
Word Count: 3,655