Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.
Entry 5
Intense heat.
So hot, so hot I can barely breathe. Something or someone is pulling me deeper and deeper into a dark hole, I'm sinking further every passing second into a warm almost liquidy-soft abyss. The bright light above me disappears into the distance as a fall away from what looks like reality.
Swirling colours and lights surround my mind, embracing the space around me. Rubbing my eyes doesn't help, it just makes it worse. Everything is so blurry, it's difficult to make out where I am....or is it what I am? What I am seeing, hearing, feeling. The noises which come from every direction, merge together to form an incomprehensible babble, too loud to stand. It's attacking me from every side.
Stop this! I can't stand the noise!
I need to get out, need to break loose from this invisible hold. It's too strong, and I'm too weak to withstand or escape from it. What is it? The darkness dissipates in blotches all around, uncovering something beneath. Almost like the spots on a Dalmatian shrinking in, leaving nothing but white, the black's craters constantly branch out to join one another leaving only small traces of ebony behind.
Emptiness
Far beyond what I can see and even beyond that. The eerily silent whiteness carries a suffocating heat, one that can wrap a person's body and bind them with its cloudy warmth. A tight electric blanket turned up all the way, sealing my body, forced over my head and fixing together my legs. Yet I stand completely mobile, staring out to the nothingness.
Silvery long hair and finely dressed, a man stands alone in the middle of this emptiness. In one hand, he holds a delicately designed card adorned with an authentic shine, the other, he clings onto a golden treasure. My treasure to be precise. I can tell quite clearly by the desirable look in his eyes that he wants it. He needs it. But for what reason, I don't know. He can't have though. Why? It's mine, and he knows it. An angry expression crosses his face as he drops my treasure on the ground in frustration. It lands with a 'clink' as he follows its path, falling to his knees in despair. He reaches for it, hand shaking with the effort, but an invisible force roughly throws him aside. He fears something in it. Something. But he still wants it.
He speaks.
"It's not enough to hold it in my eyes; I have to feel it beneath my fingers to be its master."
Damn straight
The treasure slips through his fingers every time he touches it and eventually slides out of his reach entirely. And so, he gives up. The card he held so dearly in his hands crumble and fall to the ground in a fine sand-like dust beneath his knees. With a last choked effort, he hopelessly gathers the sand in his hands, letting it fall through each digit. With that, his body disintegrates and falls as well.
I blink once to see a dark star-studded sky hovering above a crystal blue lake. The boat I'm sitting in floats quietly on the gentle water as I stare out at my new surroundings. How serene.
There's someone standing on the shore, and he signals me to come over. A kind expression mixed with melancholy, confusion and wonder. A friend. The thought of that word is foreign to my mind and my lips but what other word could I use in its stead? Friend will do. He's a friend. Not just a friend either, he seems to know me. It's strange that that doesn't surprise me because I haven't seen him before in my life. His hands gently cup a golden object very similar to mine. Maybe it came form the same family or grouping that mine did. His countenance mirrors the same fear, confusion and unusual air of protection for this piece of gold as mine does.
Meeting him on shore, I feel a calming peace where we stand. My pain and anguish melted away before I really noticed and with that, comes a very serious look on his face. Out of nowhere, he firmly places his hand on my shoulder and stares directly into my eyes.
"You have to know."
Know? Know what? This stranger's urgent tone takes me by surprise, but I try to listen intently.
"Listen to me for it is important."
I'm listening.
"Don't let it overcome you."
What is that supposed to mean? This is all too confusing. The information his is giving me comes out chopped up in pieces and I can't grasp what he's saying.
"What is written...."
A pounding headache forms in my mind, drowning out his words. No, I need to hear it, it's important.
".....the key to finding out."
Ahh, it's a chainsaw in my head and it's taking away my consciousness. All I caught form that was the word 'key' but that doesn't apply to me does it? This pain is blurring my already weak vision and dragging me down to the ground.
"No, don't go yet."
I'm sorry. I can't control it. It's happening again. The same roasting, blinding heat is pulling me back and I am helpless to stop it. My drowning senses feel like a weight on my shoulders and I.....can't.....hold.....on......
"GET OUT OF THE WAY KID!"
My eyes snap open to see...a garbage truck? The exhaust fumes coming from its rear end is hot and suffocating, but I can just make out the angry red- faced man standing beside it. The thunderous honking from another man behind the wheel is almost unbearable, giving me a difficult time gathering my senses.
Okay, okay. Question: who am I? Answer: me of course. Question: where am I? Answer: where I've been for days now, the alleyway. Question: is all my stuff with me? glance Answer: yes. Question: what are these garbage men doing here? Answer: it's garbage day and they're here to gather all the junk random, lazy people leave in this alleyway disregarding the fact that a person actually 'lives' here. Question: what just happened? Answer: it was all a dream.
That was all so real. From the crystal clear images of the policemen and convicts to the blurry visions of the silvery-haired man and the boy, I lost myself in the dream world without even realising it. It's weird how things considered unusual in reality seem perfectly normal in a dream. You could be chased by a giant banana in your sleep and never notice the queer situation but worry more about running for your life. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure which world I'm living in.
All of them point to my treasure but I am not fully aware of why. My need to protect this hunk of gold grows stronger every time it happens though. I need to keep it safe, for a purpose, for a reason, on in which I have no control over yet have full power over. Whatever the 'pull' may be, my subconscious yields to it, taking me into that direction.
Grabbing my bag and holding it close; I'm suddenly overwhelmed with loneliness. I'm all alone now, with nobody here to help me, or protect me, or even love me. I've denied this feeling for so long now, covering it up by calling it 'freedom.' The truth is, this isn't freedom at all, more like a type of bondage, something I've realised all along but fail to admit.
Everyone needs someone, that's one of the first lessons learnt. Society is based on socializing. What about me? I don't have anyone. Sure, I see people time to time but is that really enough. What about relationships?
All this self pity is wearing me down. I...I promised not to cry, remember? I said I wouldn't but it's so, so hard. I'm just a kid after all. Wow, this is really pathetic. I mean really pathetic. All this soft mushy stuff is wrong for a street kid like me. It must be the weather that's causing this sting in my eyes. The watering too. Stupid allergies.
I need something to eat.
Oh, great, people are staring at me now. Why...can't...I...stop? C'mon now, stop it already! This is like a broken faucet that can't be turned off, just running on its own free will. Just wonderful, now I got my nose going too. As long as I keep my face turned away from them, maybe no one would notice me. The only thing I have to wipe my eyes and nose right now is a sleeve, that'll have to do. I'd rather not get the pages of this journal dirty.
"Everything alright son?"
What? There's someone behind me. Oh, this is o embarrassing, of all the things that draw attention I just had to....
"Are you lost?"
His voice sounds familiar, but I've never really heard it before. The words déjà vu comes to mind.
Turning around, my eyes catch a shiny golden badge attached to a navy blue jacket. His pants and hat matching each other, forming an ensemble. Is this a cop? He gives me a concerned look but his hazel eyes are warm and kind.
"An old lady spotted you here and thought you might be lost."
An...old lady?
"Sorry to scare you, but there's nothing to worry about, I'm officer Francis Nielsen."
Nielsen.....Nielsen.....
Taking his extended hand, I gently shake it and drop mind down. Ugh, everything seems so, so familiar. Where have I seen this guy before, and what's this about some 'old lady?' It's so hard to remember. This is just something that's really bugging me right now as if it's on the tip of my mind but I can't entirely grasp onto it. Think, think.
"So tell me son, what's your name?"
"My name?" Oh, it's –
"Actually, why don't you come with me, we can talk things over in the car. What's important now is to get you something to eat; you're all skin and bones."
I guess when he said 'talk things over' he meant that he'd be doing most of the talking and I'd just sit there and listen. Guess I've grown perceptive to this sort of thing but when adults or at least people with a lot of insight notices when a kid's nervous, they'll try to strike up some sort of hearty conversation to break the ice. This cop isn't doing such a wonderful job at it but at least he's friendly. Or maybe it's a thing with all police people.
The station is nothing I imagined it to be. This place is bustling with activity and business and crowded with various workers. Everywhere I look, someone's answering a phone or making photocopies. Kind of funny that my image of a police station is one of which there is a room full of convicts sitting quietly with their wrists handcuffed to their armrests. Well, there is one guy sitting in the corner, he's bald and full of piercings and tattoos but he doesn't seem to be doing anything.
After handing me a sandwich, the cop asks me a few questions and I end up telling him about my foster parents and Julie. Conveniently, well depending on the point of view (not exactly 'convenient' for me) Nielsen knows Julie and offered to give her a call to bring her down here. I was reluctant. Very reluctant, for obvious reasons, but he went ahead and did it anyways.
In what seemed like no time at all (a/n: sorry, this is getting kinda long here) Julie was down here carrying a large folder under her arm. She didn't scold me like I had expected her to about running away from Andersen's; in fact she looked a bit relieved. She gave the usual 'are you alrights' and 'how did you get heres,' things like that, and disappeared into a room with Nielsen within two minutes flat.
Okay, well, nice to see you again too, I guess.
It doesn't take a brilliant mind to figure out what to do in that situation. Nobody would notice since they were all busy with their own work and I would be very discreet about it anyways. Urgh, even this door looks familiar. How annoying.
Pressing my ear against the cream-coloured wood, clear soft voices made their way through the door and towards me.
"Oh, the sixth? Really now?"
"I'm afraid so, he's a good boy but he doesn't seem to be compatible with any of the families I've arranged for him."
"Well, maybe you're not looking at this in the right perspective."
"What do you mean?"
"If something doesn't work than try a different approach. What I'm trying to say is maybe you should look elsewhere."
"You mean in another city?"
"Country..."
"You can't be serious!"
"What have you got to lose? I think six times is enough to make one consider a more radical change."
"But where?"
"Well, let's see."
They want to move me into another country? I can't believe it's that serious. Well, considering the fact that I haven't turned out so well where I am now, I guess that was a natural option to take. Hmm, a new country. A new beginning. A new life. Hopefully a better one than I have now.
"I've got it!"
"What?"
"Come look at this."
"Um hum, not a bad choice."
"So....what do you think?"
"We'll give it a try."
"Alright then, Domino, Japan it is."
End Entry
A/N: Is it possible to have humour and angst in the same story? I'm not too happy with this chapter; I'll try to make the next one better. Thanks for reading.
Replies:
Yugi and Mai Hey thanks for the encouragement, it really helps. I'm glad you like the pretty little description in the beginning because I just love the way people like that look, lol, just joking. Hey, don't put yourself down like that. I doubt your writing is rubbish cause everyone has their own style and they just have to find out what that is. There's nothing wrong with practicing at if you aren't confident at what you can do so you can improve on your abilities. Not everything has to be posted on ff.net. Just try that, but it's your choice so you can do whatever you feel is best. Ouch, I just notice that I dropped a big lump's worth of a clue in this fic. Whistling hope no one notices too much. Oh, and thanks for planning on adding me to your favourites, you and your sis are great.
Molly-chan the Anime/Game fan Actually, that's a good idea. I think I'll make this AU just to make it a little more difficult to guess. It's sort of AU already since I don't think any of this stuff would actually happen to any of the hikaris, but who knows. Thanks for the review and..... the idea :D.
yla/all for him Thanks for the review and for reviewing the other story too. Well in a sense I can tell whether a person is or is not by some of the things they write. I won't go into much detail because of the risk of accidentally insulting anyone but I hope you know what I mean.
Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru One of those guesses is definitely right, I can tell you that. But yeah, I like weird, weird is good and you can tell that by the way I started of this chappy. I try to do that to keep the story more interesting than it would've been without all the weird stuff. Anyways, thanks for the review!
inuyasha0001 You're lucky where you're from cause they aren't airing the new episodes here, grrr, it was getting to the good parts too. I like the dubbing in Inuyasha better than in Yu-Gi-Oh though cause they keep more of the real storyline and culture intact. Plus Miroku is such a hentai . Yeah, you're right, the cops should have researched it but it turned out to be all a dream so it's all good. Thanks for the review.
