Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN YGO. That's it.
Brighter Than The Sun
I walk on my way home from school, and it's only 11:00 a.m. I don't think I need to stay there anymore since I did what I was supposed to. Tiredness from the previous night is now washing me, gaining control over me, punishing me for the hours I haven't slept. Like I have ever slept calmly since the day he came into my life…
Though I studied almost the entire night, I did no good on this test, and this test was one of the most important. Again those stupid mistakes I always do…I just can't seem to get over myself and remember the lessons…And I'm always in hurry…I don't know why. Maybe because I always need to run, always need to do so many things…Yet I never really do them. Every time something is standing in my way and I'm lost again…lost within myself. I'm almost sorry I didn't sleep last night.
I hate myself. Yes, it is so obvious, I just hate myself. I worth nothing, I'm just a stupid moron that will never do something with his life. And even the things I accomplished and the achievements I got are not mine. All these are his…And I think I hate him for being so good over me. I hate him for being here, for controlling my life, being part of me…But always better than me. I don't even know him.
I've studied for all the night yesterday. I now remember the dim shadows on my walls as the letters in the notebooks became blurred before my eyes. I missed classes many times, so I needed to get the material and the handwriting of this theme isn't mine. As I'm thinking about this I'm looking around my room and I remember nothing here is mine. Well, it was father's. But father never said it is going to pass to me.
Father went away several years ago. He said "Love you, don't forget to wait for me," and went away. Sometimes I wonder where he is now. If he is lonely or maybe he found himself new wife and now is happily married with children. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. Maybe he has forgotten, we never really had it – you know the word – love or…I just can't seem to understand.
The street is full of people, moving all together, talking with friends or carrying their cell phones. I never liked cell phones. I think I never liked people anyway. Hear them laugh and joke around, while my world is so empty within. A group of students from my school is bypassing me, and they are all laughing happily, they surely did it right on the exams…Well, I did not. And I can't get rid of the thought it is my fault. I never was good at anything, but at least I didn't expect myself to make this kind of stupid mistakes…I'm just so idiotic.
Well I'm still angry now. They always said anger brings only more sorrow, but I don't know if I can believe them. I saw many good things breaking away in front of me, so I don't know if my anger can console me anymore. I just…I just want to make myself remember…To punish myself for this failure. As I'm crossing the road I'm pull my hands together and insert my fingernails into my skin. Yea, it hurts. It really hurts, and I even shudder as I feel the pain crawling up my arm. I'm standing in the street full of people, but no one sees me. Am I that invisible? I feel like I'm nothing…
A lady with her cell phone is going on the road, she is crossing on red light. I hate people who do this. It is just so unfair. A car honked for her, but not because she crossed on the wrong light, but because there are her friends. I'm watching her while she is putting her phone down and getting into the car. I'm watching her laugh as her friends are greeting her. And I stare after them when they are speeding away. My nails leave long, red marks of scratches on my arms. Now I have to go home with my arms clenched together over so no one can see the long red marks.
People don't look at me when I pass the square. All the stores are open, people are meeting and the cash boxes are playing the song of money. I see group of children who are buying some ice-cream for it is really hot today. I want an ice-cream too. I haven't eaten ice-cream for so long. But I can't. I have no money, nor do I have appetite as I'm thinking about this. I never eat in the middle of the day. I'm…I'm never so hungry.
The sun is stuck directly in the middle of the sky, and it is shining on my face and arms. I feel the marks I left throbbing. I don't understand this; I haven't hurt myself SO much…I stop and look how a crane is transferring a boulder from one roof to another. I want to be so high too…I wonder if it hurts when I jump down. Maybe I should try it someday. Just stand up there and look down.
I heard them say when you are on the edge of death, you see all your life in blinks. I wonder what I'll see. You know, I never had a real life. There aren't many things I can remember. I don't remember my childhood, like I was born a teenager. But I think I should remember. I make a stop to sit and rest on the bench in the park. My house isn't very far from here, but still I want to rest. The sun is beating on my pale skin and I close my eyes and try to remember. Maybe a birthday? I have to remember one of my birthdays…But…When is my birthday anyway? I don't remember celebrating for the last…For many years now. I don't have memories about myself when I was younger. I don't remember why I am in the world. What is the reason I'm still here? Finally I know nothing is holding me. I don't need to stay…
Yet I get up and start walking again. Maybe I won't see anything if I try to jump from the roof. After all, I'm not going to think about this right now. I have no way to improve what I'd done today in school, but maybe I can submit another work…No, I don't think they will allow me. Why for? I never was that good anyway. I think they will be pleased to fail me.
I think I will get into the mall, but what have I lost there? I get there only for the air conditioner anyway. Just to let the cool wind blow on my face and hair and make me feel better. Yet I don't. I just can't feel better anyway. I'm listening to the feminine voice in the public announcement. She says nothing special about some sales somewhere. I don't remember I ever bought anything that wasn't discounted. I have no money for stupid brands.
I stop before the game shop, and look how the boys are getting the Duel Monsters cards. I watch them ripping the package and everything around just burst up; excited shouts are heard: "Look! I got the Change Of Hearts!" I sigh mentally and go away. This is one of my cards, but I don't recall ever using it. Maybe he did it, but I don't remember. I don't know where the cards are today. I think he took them away, for I don't need them anymore. I never was a good player, big surprise. And I'm never going to be…Something. Anything.
I get out of the mall; I have nothing more to do there. I don't quite sure what I have to do at home, but I'm going there anyway. I just don't have any other place. And guess what, I don't have money to go to the cinema and sit in the darkness for some time.
I don't remember ever going to movies. I've always watched TV at home. Once I even got a subscriber for TV-library on that corner of the street I'm walking on now, but I didn't found there something interesting. I never find. I just choose a channel randomly. Maybe some Anime. I heard him say it does well. But I don't know if I can believe it.
I scratch my arms again, only to see the red mark appearing. I still hadn't gotten any attention, and it is only for good. I finally reach the avenue that leads me towards home. It seems to me today I just can't get rid of this sun. It is shining through the branches right into my already sore eyes. But I feel no tears streaming down my face.
I never cry, even when I'm scared and lonely. I just don't have the energy to cry. I think crying is something mythical, something for normal beings. Unlike me, of course. I don't think I deserve to live anymore, now that I've proved everyone I'm nothing but a loser. I wonder what society did to people like my in the ancient time. I think I should have been burnt if I had lived there, because I bring bad luck with me wherever I go. Someone needs to stop me, and maybe I will take this chance.
I don't remember this avenue is so long. I never really noticed it. The trees are blooming, I think spring has come and I never noticed. Maybe the flowers I planted in the little garden in front of the house are blooming too. I want to see them.
I cross the last road that has no crosswalk, and I hurry to get into the house. As I'm walking by the other houses I can notice something pasted on the fence. It is white, and it is shining so hard from the sun rays that I feel my eyes are blind. Yet I focus them on the object, getting closer to find out it is a piece of paper. There are black letters on the paper. A mourning note.
I don't know and I'm not sure who it was though I've lived here for all of my life. The note is hanging on the fence and the sun is falling right into my eyes. I feel sorry, yet somehow, in a much distorted way, I hope it was me.
I pass the note and head closer to home. My nails are digging into my skin once again, this time much deeper. I don't care if marks are left forever, but I still think about where I packed my winter clothes. I'm going to need some, if I don't want people asking how I hurt my arms. I see the flowers near my home are dead.
One of my neighbors is standing in my way. She is a nice old woman, and she is wearing white today, so my eyes are sore again and I can't look up at her.
"Oh, you are home so early, dear. What happened? They sent you back from school?" I don't know if she really cares about me, she seems bored and thus she asks me this. I shook my head, nails are moving into my arms. Yet she doesn't see the marks on my arms. She is smiling, I can feel it, and then "Maybe you should rest today, dear. You know we live only once." she says more, but I don't hear this, because I open my door and slam it back. I don't know why I did this. I try to not lose my temper, but sometime I forget. I don't hear anything now. I start to hit my head, once and twice. Still nothing.
The living room is empty and darkened. I open the windows to let the sun intrude my privacy. I don't care about the sun, it will live another millennium. I'm glad I won't though he surely will. He is never in hurry. There are no pictures on the walls, as I now see. I don't know why. I have pictures, but I never find the time to hang them up. I don't remember father did it. I don't remember almost anything about him; I don't recall even how he looks anymore. I guess time really heals the memories. It can't erase them, so time is just convincing us to forget. But how can I forget if I can't remember? But I don't want to think about this. I…Just don't want to.
I'm washing my hands in the sink and letting the cold water trace my arms. The red marks are still there, and I'm glad because of it. It will always remind me who I really am. But I'm not quite sure I want to remember this. I'm always not sure.
Well I don't want to do anything today so I lie down on my bed and try to sleep. The light is so intense, beating into my closed eyes and I can't bear it anymore. Yet I don't cry. I'm getting rid of my socks; I don't like wearing them anyway. I feel the heat on my bare ankles now, and I like this feeling. A moment later I hate feeling merely fine because of what I've done today. I should be dead because there's nothing better I can do to help the world. I shouldn't take this body, if he wants it he can have it. Maybe he isn't tired now, but I am. And I hope he kills me next time we meet. He may find it…Somehow amusing.
I grab the sharp crystal I had in my drawer. It is sharp enough, and when I trail my fingers on the edges, it cuts me. I place the crystal on the heated skin of my arm, and slowly move it down, the drops falling on my white blanket. I can't see them because the white material is just burning in the bright light, yet I know they are there.
It is really not as hurt as I expected it to be, so I do it again. Smooth and clean. I never did it before. I recall now looking at the crystal and thinking about…Well, I'm not sure this thought was completely mine, but I thought about cutting my arms like this. I don't do this for the death, just to remind myself about the mistakes I've done today. And I never did it to my arms. I…I don't know. So be it.
I'm tired again, I think again about the night and the exam. Oh, leave it be. I should have known I'm going to ruin everything. He said I can never be good enough. Maybe he is right. I wonder what he did today, but I'm afraid to ask, because he'll tell me. And I won't like it, so I just…Keep my mouth shut.
The blanket is soaked with red but I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. I'm just so tired, and I put my head on the red stain on my white pillow and close my eyes. My hands leave the crystal, and it falls off to the floor, leaving thick red line on the white cover. Oh well, so be it for now.
I dream. I don't like my dreaming because I can never run away from it. And I see the sun again, like I hadn't enough of it today. I see myself going again down the avenue, and I see the sun shining on something bright that is hanging on the fence. And as I'm getting close to this, I see it is the mourning note. Black thick letters are written on it, and I can't hide the excitement and the fear I feel now, all mixed together. Because I know him. He is…Well, he is me. But how can I be sure?
I feel something's streaming down my palms. Yet I don't dare to look down. I'm hearing sounds, but it is just a dream…The sounds are screaming and cursing, and I don't care about them. I don't know them – so why should I care? They can do nothing for me nor do they want to. I just let this pass…
I look again at the note and I think it doesn't matter anymore. This person, look, this person was me, after all. But he was nothing…It means I am nothing too, right? But I'm glad we are no more.
My name is going to last on this note for some time now. But people don't know me so they won't bother. I can't even think about the person who will hang this note for me. Maybe he will do it, though I doubt he knows anything about mourning. He knows the taste of blood, and killing is his hobby…And he went far away the path of death, but still…He doesn't know what it is. I'm glad I know it. Finally I know more than him. I doubt he'll see his name written on a note like this.
I doubt he'll read this note when he comes home today.
I doubt he'll care, he doesn't need me anymore. Nor do I need him. I don't think I ever did…
He'll never know the taste of real mourn. He is always the killer, never the victim. And I like to be the victim of myself. Well, I used to like it. I don't remember much, and if I do, it doesn't matter.
The street is empty and complete silence rules the avenue as I walk away into the mist, leaving the note with the red name on it.
"Ryou Bakura."
FAB: Finished. It was Ryou's point of view if you wonder. I don't have many things to say today, but I still want to ask you: if you have some time, please review now. I was really in the ANSGT mood…I think.
The end.
