Disclaimer: Fwee for me. Yay! No profit is being made on this story. So . . . I'm still broke. But fwee for me!

A/N - God, this chapter took FOREVER! . I hate writer's block with such a passion that it's scary. o.O Oh well, ignore me and my stupidity. But guess what? There's an AUTHOR RESPONSE CORNER! YAY!!

Princess-Vash - Hi there. Nice to meet you! Glad you like it!
Kittengrl39 - Don't worry about those "dead" episodes, I get those constantly . . . like on the writing of this chapter, for instance. I also have 2 books to read for English in the next couple of weeks that I'm not happy about, so forgive me if I'm superbly slow. I haven't forgotten about this story. Anyway, I'm sorry you're confused. I'm confused too. Is it from chapter 4? If so, that was a dream sequence, and chapter 5 is her waking up. . I don't know why she was abused. I guess just because my mind made her that way ) Yes, I'm evil. We DO know her name, it's Legna. Lay-nuh. Just because I felt like naming someone that for a while . I'm glad you like the descriptions, because I think they are the suck. And no, you're not getting any answers in this chapter :P Just more confusion. :D Yay for confusion!

Fwee! Yay for Author's Response Corner! And I think the fact that I'm getting fewer reviews is making me slow . . . o.O So if you want quick-ness, then review and say so! YAY! Well, I guess that's all I need to say. Even I'm confused about this chapter. But hey, it's a dream, so of course it's not going to make sense. But it DOES have a reasoning behind it. So just let your imagination fly :P

Last time . . . "Sleep well, my angel." he whispered into my ear before placing his lips on my cheek gently and walked out of the room. I could do nothing but comply with his request, though reluctantly, and back to the world of sleep I was tossed.


Onegai
Chapter 6 - The Violet

Some pictures flashed before my eyes. First was a picture of a lonely swing hanging from a giant oak tree in front of an equally enormous house with yellow siding. The mother oak created a large shade patch where her children daffodils, roses, and tulips danced in the breeze. The

large stone fence surrounding the yard was set so the slide was looking in on the home. The vision should have been ultimately beautiful, but it was very depressing in my eyes. It was as if the thought of the swing still standing alone throughout the flowers and soft grass around it tugged at something in my heart. It all meant something, I just didn't know what. It tore at my mind and my soul trying to remember why I was feeling like this over such a wonderfully upbeat image.

The next image was of a little girl, maybe three or four. She was a cute child with her thin brunette hair wisping around her shoulders as her bangs hung just a little over her eyebrows, which were scrunched in her forehead by closed eyes. Her mouth hung agape and resembled a letter D which had flipped curved side down. The baby fat in her cheeks pushed high above the bones and made her eyes shut tight, causing her face to look puckered. This girl was familiar, it seemed like a deja vu of some sort for me. . . looking at this happy child. It ripped at me even more, causing me to begin breaking down inside. I could feel it physically.

The anger was rising in me again as I watched these two pictures flash in front of my eyes many times, just back and forth, slowly, then quicker until eventually I couldn't even tell which was which anymore. . . and they blended together. It caused it to look like the little girl was sitting on the swing in the yard, flowers surrounding her, smiling and happy in the shade of the oak tree. It became a movie, the flowers began swaying back and forth as the oak tree's mighty branches picked up on the wind. The picture began to move, not very fluid movements, but like an amateur's animation video as the girl turned around to face the back of the swing and turned back to face forward, still smiling. Her hair floated in the wind as she began swinging back and forth on that once lonely swing, and she started laughing. She turned to face her back again and laughed, looking forward again and swinging, flowers and tree laughing with her. A man flashed behind her and commenced in the pushing. They laughed together, the girl swinging and the breeze blowing her light tresses back behind her.

Suddenly, the sun hid itself behind a storm cloud as the girl was pushed off of the swing by the man behind her. She lay on the ground, apparently crying, as the man knelt next to her, grabbed her wrist, pulled her up, and smacked her face.

"No!" something cried inside me. "Somebody do something!"

The man continued to beat the girl until she just lay on the ground, a miserable figure, bleeding from her mouth and new bruises appearing all over her body. I couldn't tell if she was breathing or if she had died. I couldn't tell if the man was crying or laughing. All of a sudden, the man looked up and the picture went back to an image of his face. His full lips bent into a monstrous grin with his canines showing through and his eyebrows appeared at a downward slant towards his nose, conveying a great evil in him. He had jet black hair that framed his face and under his eyebrows I saw two ruby spheres that glinted with malice. I recognized this face. . .

"Make it stop! Please make it stop!" I called out from wherever I was, pleading to anyone that could hear. "Please! I can't take it anymore!" I broke down into sobs and cried out, not knowing what else to do. My heart started beating faster and faster until I had to clutch my chest in my hand to calm it down. It felt like someone had ripped my insides out through my throat and threw them all over the ground in front of me, laughing at me again. Wait--I did hear laughing. It was small and faint, but it was there, bouncing around my head and into my ears faster than I would have liked it to. "It's not funny!" I managed to scream between twitches and convulsions, glaring at the air around me. The air responded with a mild movement, like something had just walked by me, causing my hair to gently flow once and fall back to my face, covering part of my left eye. I heard that snicker again, but this time it was louder and positioned next to me, and I felt something grasp my hand. Violently, I tugged at my wrist, trying to free myself from the grip, but was unsuccessful. Why did everyone seem to want to make my life more difficult than it already is?

"Don't you understand?" I heard him whisper as he grabbed my wrist tighter, trying to restrict all the movement I was forcing my arm to make in the attempt to free myself, "I'm trying to help you." There was frustration in his voice like a wolf that hadn't eaten for too long, and it sent a shiver crawling up my spine. I responded with a firm and forceful grunt while I once again tried to wrench my wrist from his death grip. He sighed heavily and pulled my wrist in one direction so that I fell face-first in that general route, but before I hit anything he flipped me over so the back of my head hit what I'm guessing was his lap. I could feel his eyes on my body as I felt him put his arm heavily on my chest, in an effort to restrain me from future flailing.

"Let me go!" I cried, trying to move but finding myself unable to, grunting and groaning at not getting what I wished. I squirmed around under his grasp, him still holding my wrist and my upper chest firmly down across wherever it was I was lain. My head was propped up, and since he had done nothing with the lower half of my body to restrict it, I began to kick. Quickly running out of energy, I began to pant and wheeze as I felt my throat beginning to tighten under his arm. I gasped for air and stopped moving when I felt my head lowered onto the ground and something placed on my stomach. My hands were moved next to my head, my wrists gripped in the unknown's hands firmly. I guessed he had sat onto my stomach and placed one knee on either side because I found myself unable to move at all.

"Stop struggling!" he stated, trying to suppress the vexation in his voice. I gave a small grunt as my muscles relaxed under his grip, a feeling creeping into my stomach. I began to feel very uncomfortable like this, under this strange man. I didn't know why, but I refused to have this feeling anymore.

"Get off of me." I said as calmly as he had, my hands loosening their balled grip so the fists disappeared. His response was to push my wrists down even further, as if guessing that my next move was going to be trying to get away. I remained still under him, the feeling in my stomach gradually getting more prominent as I felt fluttering throughout my body. I hoped it would go away soon because it was beginning to make me quiver slightly, something that would be considered a weakness to an enemy.

Instead of hearing the cynical laugh I had been used to hearing whenever a weakness was shown, I felt my wrists freed and a hand helping me to sit up. "I apologize. I did not mean to make you feel . . . uncomfortable . . . " he said slowly and hesitantly, as if he was just as confused and anxious as I was concerning the event just previous. I took his hand and pulled my head from the floor and into a seated position, crossing my legs. I heard a clicking noise ring a millisecond before a light flashed from above me, and I saw someone in front of me that I didn't recognize at all. This man was more of a boy, maybe aged 17, with long bluish grey hair pulled back into a ponytail, the tips of his hair reaching the middle of his back. His eyes were a piercing violet and he had a scar going the length of his cheek, from his forehead down his eye to the tip of his chin, curved to the shape of his face. He had very simple clothes; a white shirt hung loosely over his chest and a pair of black pants that clung to his hips tightly and hung around his legs with tennis shoes that were falling apart covering his feet. He stood next to a switch on a wall, with his hand on it, signaling he had turned on the light to let me look at him, or maybe just to make me feel a little more comfortable. The room I was in seemed familiar, like it was somewhere I had been before many times. It was simple, just a cot with a small mat on it and an old quilt, with a pile of ragged and lacerated clothes in the corner. The bulb that was lit hung from the ceiling attached to a wire that went straight up into the boards. I looked around and saw nothing else, not even a window, then turned back at him with a dumbfounded look. He closed his eyes halfway as his lips curved slightly upward, returning my look with a pitying smile. "It's true then? You don't remember?"

I got very angry at this and glared at him, remembering the red-haired boy asking me about remembering something as well. "What is it with everyone asking me if I remember something? You know, I don't remember anything. I remember that red-haired boy, the nurse, the woods, the sunset, and the hospital. That's it."

"How did you get to the hospital?" he asked, looking straight into my tormented eyes with his violet ones, piercing my heart with his gaze.

"I . . . I don't remember . . . " I lied, averting my eyes to the floor. I really did remember, but for some reason I felt that it wasn't right to tell him.

His footsteps made the floorboards creak, and I saw his shoe come into my view before I heard him begin to talk again. "Yes you do," he said, "because you're lying to me."

I looked up at him and reluctantly began telling the story of snapping my ankle and the strange men in the car that made too much noise. He replied to me that the men were police and that they had given me a tranquilizer, and that's why I felt a pinch and blacked out shortly after. "How did you know I was lying to you when I said I didn't remember?" I asked, wondering what I had done to give him that idea.

"You always shift your eyes when you lie." He put his hand under my chin and bent down, kissing my forehead. "If only everyone else lied like you. Then the world might not be falling apart."

I smiled gently, closing my eyes. I felt good about myself. Even though I had this habit, and that it would never help me in the long run, he made it seem like it was okay. I was content with it.


A/N - GAH! YOU SUCK THE BIG ONE, ENDING! Um . . . heh heh . ::shifty eyes:: Yeah. I didn't like the ending of this chapter, could you tell? Well, considering that it was written at ::looks at clock:: 1 in the morning, can you blame me? It sucks. Although the guy is quite hot.

What am I talking about?! The guy is from my imagination! I just thought him up! But the picture in my head was so hot . . . drools What did he look like in YOUR head? Eh heh heh . . . anyway, just plop in a review if you would be so kind . Because I love reviews. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ::cough:: Yeah. Anyway, fwee. I am happy that I finally finished this chapter. Yay for me! So . . . yeah, that's it. Have a spiffy day!