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Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh.

Rated for: slight language, gloomy moments

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Luminance

It feels lonely. When raindrops fall from the sky above. I used to love rain. I used to adore it. Now, it carries nothing but bad memories of my past. Nothing else to be considered.

Sitting now by the windowsill of my friends' game shop, thinking about previous events of my life makes me wonder what I did wrong. Why did I deserve this heartbreak? No one deserves such pain. Not even your worst enemies. I love him, and yet I feel like I'll never be surrounded by the warmth that his body radiated. I'll never be wrapped in his arms, nor will I ever see his deep eyes.

His eyes. They were always surprisingly cold. Even with me he was so cold. I knew he loved me. I felt it. But he never told me. He just looked at me with an emotionless face. He rarely said anything unless I asked him or said it first. We rarely talked. Usually we just had sex. Yes, sex. There is no other way to call it.

I used to be a romantic and still am. But any physical activity with him was not called making love like some chose to say, it was sex, plain and raw. It felt like he just used me most of the time for his own pleasure and convenience. Like he used my body similarly to that of a broken doll to fuck, and throw away, nothing more, nothing less.

It hurt me a lot. Until recently, I could not even leave him unless my friends got more and more persisting. I knew I had to leave. I feel so pathetic now, sitting here, while thinking all these thoughts and wanting to go back desperately. I am afraid to though, afraid that he'll kill me. He hurt me before…very badly.

It wasn't only the emotional pain all the time. It was also physical. It stared couple months after we decided to live together. Rather he decided it. He persisted constantly until I finally gave in, although it didn't take much swaying on his part. I was already in love with him from the first time I saw him. It was probably because I am such a lifelike, energetic, person…or at least I used to be. I knew it from the start that I loved him. What I didn't know however, is that he was the complete and utter opposite of every single thing that I stood for. My very existence was completely different from his. That's why it was so painful. He probably just needed something to fill in the empty space in his life, just someone to justify his needs. I wouldn't have all those scars on my almost lifeless body if it wasn't so.

First, it stared as a minor slap, nothing much. For me, it was everything. We didn't see each other for a week after that, he apologized and promised to never do such things again, and nothing was farther from the truth. One thing my mother always told me when she was still alive was that if a person does something bad once, they will do it again. But she was referring to lying. When she told me that, she was just teaching her little girl to never lie and always speak the truth. How was she to know that that rule might ever apply to anything else in my life?

So he kept doing it. Like an addiction. Something to soothe his damaged mind and cold heart. Something to let out his pinned up frustration. He hit me, he cut me, he shoved me, all the time. Until he saw I couldn't take it anymore, until my fair skin was purple with scars, until crimson blood from his hands covered my face. I remember how tears of pain drowned my pale features. Yet, he never stopped at that, rarely. He took a scalpel then, and not just any ordinary scalpel. He bought it particularly for this very purpose. He cut my back deep. He left scars right above my lower back cutting deeper and deeper each time. He did it slowly and gently, almost s if he didn't want to hurt me, to touch my skin with his hands. No, just the scalpel. He believed that he didn't hurt me, it was only the sharp metal object that did all the work. I must have dozens of cuts everywhere. Once one healed, he made sure that a new one took its place, a more abysmal one.

Yet, I never abandoned him. Not only did I love him with all that I posses, and I still do, I felt sorry for him. I pitied him. He needed that. He never told me, and yet that is why he wanted me to stay with him all the time. He did not want to be alone. I hugged him firmly, and comforted him all those rainy nights. That is the only time he didn't do it. He didn't hurt me. That's the only time he allowed me to help him, to hold him, to make it feel better.

I wanted to help him so much that I didn't care about what would happen to me anymore. I took myself completely out of the picture. Only he mattered. Everything in my life revolved around him now. I didn't talk to my friends, to the people I previously knew, I didn't even go to school anymore. He didn't allow me to. He didn't want to let me go. Most of the time we stayed inside his huge palace. A palace perfectly fit for him. His mansion. His power. He loved power over others. To control them, he did anything.

He even killed. Yes, he murdered people before. Got it covered up. Told no one but me. I don't know why he told me, but it made cling on to him even more. When I felt pain, I felt I was being unfair to him. Him, the person who suffered more that me in his life. That is what I always used to explain his actions. To myself, to my friends, to my mother in heaven.

Everything was taken away from him. His parents, his childhood which he was so cruelly robbed of, and the worst thing, the one and only family he possessed, his baby brother. I never knew him, and yet I feel I know all about him. The endless ramblings of all those sleepless nights made me understand, and know. His little brother was the one and only streak of light left in his cheerless life. He was the one and only person to make it better for him. To make him laugh. To make him silly. To make his lose the barriers around his heart. How could the angels be so cruel? How could they have been so jealous as to take the soul of the man who deserved it the most? How could they have led him to the heaven's door at such an early time?

No one deserves such fate in their lives. Immediately after the tragic occurrence, the walls around the ice figure tripled. They have never been let down since. Even when he rambled, he never cried. When I told him to, he ignored my request. It would make it better if he cried. He never did. Not once. I did. When I listened to his sorrowful winding, it made my heart clench as if it was squeezed by the strongest hand in the universe. Even thought it was just mere, pointless talk, he said more than he ever had. He opened the doors to his locked up mind. That was the only thing that guided him now.

Oftentimes I felt like he could really open up to me, not just ramble, but seriously talk about it. It seemed so close he came, but I was wrong. He always restrained himself from saying a word. Never speaking more than he had to and never again mentioning those rainy nights. Never.

As I came back to reality, I watched the raindrops pour down the wet glass more slowly and gently now. The streets were bathed in the comfort of the rain, clean and shiny. The people were walking by more frequently. Women and men alike were all wearing similar black coats, their faces looking down mindlessly on the wet cement, their hair and body shielded by the unattractive colors of their umbrellas. Why would anyone want to be protected from rain when it send out such radiant happiness and glow? Maybe they all shared the same agonizing lives. Every single one of them. Until late, I did not think that it would ever be possible for me to be so dull and sorrowful.

I averted my gaze to what seemed to catch the corner of my eye. Although covered by the branches of the tall pine tree, I could still somewhat vaguely see a small figure beneath the narrow, evergreen leaves. As the small form shifted slightly, a little girl came in sight. A bright smile covered her innocent face, two ponytails of brown hair were tied up by silky, white ribbons, her fragile body was dressed in the same, silky, white colored dress, and a pair of shiny white sandals concealed bases of her feet. She looked like a charming princess from the story of Snow White.

I noticed then, that she was looking at something intensively, as if waging her choice of actions. I followed her curious gaze to a sand box which she had been so carefully observing. It was hidden under a striped roof, to prevent the rain from soaking the golden sand. I understood that the girl was contemplating on weather or not to go play. The child was concerned about her new, white dress getting dirty, and the worry of being scolded later traced her face. She cleverly sided against, as I watched her pick up a dry sheet of newspaper and put it on the seat of the slightly wet swing that stretched a bit under the tree. Yet, I could see her well. She said down carefully, making sure her dress was properly tucked under. When she was seated, her petite fingers grasped the metal chains that ran along both sides of her, and streaked her small legs down the rocky path underneath her swinging herself with sight force. Her swinging increased as she briskly swung her legs back and forth.

I found myself wondering if she had been there alone. It saw a cold, rainy day, and I didn't want the girl to get lost, or find some sort of trouble. The thought evaded my mind as I noticed a tall, thin woman approaching the little girl. She looked young, in her mid twenties perhaps. The girl resembled her somewhat, even though I couldn't see her face since she was standing with her back to my face. They were probably assumed as sisters most of the time, and I might have thought similarly, but their small age gap did not deceive me. I knew by heart that the brown haired woman was her mother. They had reminded me of my mother and I. Our age difference was even less. My mother had me at a young age of seventeen, as to which the girl's mother looked more to twenty.

The tall woman took the girl's hand lightly as she pushed her more closely, to put a translucent rain coat on her. I was interrupted from my thoughts a bit as I heard faint footsteps rising up the stairs to the second floor, and closer to my room. I ignored them for a moment, and looked back at the girl. Unexpectedly, just as her mother put the coat on her, she looked up, meeting my gaze, as our eyes clashed together. She smiled at me as though knowing I was there all this time. I stared at the child bewildered, cracking a hesitant grin myself.

Abruptly, the innocence of her beautiful blue eyes stung my heart, as I broke the gaze, and turned away from the window. Her large blue eyes reminded me of him, except he'll never have eyes like those. Nice, sweet, passionate, loving… never.

I pushed back my tears, as I heard someone finally walk in, closing the door behind them softly. As I looked up, I saw a tall, solemn figure of my spike haired friend. He looked down on me pensively noticing my wistful look, and my watery eyes.

Without meeting his eyes, I felt him sit down next to me releasing a deep sigh as he with caution placed his arm over my right shoulder. Yet, I was not seeking his comfort, nor his pity. When he felt me tense up he pulled his arm away, and just sat there lost distantly in his own thoughts.

I suddenly remembered the girl. Turning my body on the windowsill, I shifted back towards the window, my fixated gaze searching mindlessly for the little girl, to the place where she stood near the playground. My pitiful mind was strangely hoping to meet her sapphire eyes one more time.

But the girl was already gone.

To be continued…..

What did you think? I admit, it is a long chapter full of big paragraphs, but I like it that way. Write reviews. The more you write, the sooner I update. Until next time.

kisses,

mirageangel

! näkemiin !