—I don't own Beyblade. here you go, people! omfg, it took me so many shitload of days to try and come up for the next chapter. And it was PURE HELL I tell you (sob). I hope I did well on this one. Please enjoy! This is for you angry reviewers who's been telling me to update, update, update :) don't worry. . . I haven't bailed out on you guys XD
Bloodstained Eyes
One—scarred body and mind
He looked at her with so much hate...
His once light brown eyes, was now darkly lit, as if she had just shut its brightness off.
Four cops surrounded him, handcuffing his wrists and telling him to walk straight ahead to the police car.
Those dark eyes weren't a mistake as she saw them one last time, before she was pulled on a wheel-bed.
No matter how many aides that came to aid her, she didn't take her eyes off of him.
Nor could he.
With a one last stand of appearance, he narrowed his eyes and mouthed something that only she could understand, disappearing inside the screeching sirens of the police car.
"You're dead, Bloody-Eyed Freak."
Hiromi shut her eyes, trying to acknowledge the pain of her body... rather than the pain in her heart.
She was trembling again.
When she opened her eyes as the Saturday afternoon light shone down through the curtains of her bedroom window, pain quickly surfaced all over her body, especially her head.
She was sweating. Like she had just gone through a terrible nightmare come true.
She closed her eyes and took a huge breath, placing her hand onto her chest.
Her heart was beating so fast it was hard to keep it in control.
Stop it.
Although this happened every time she woke up, she couldn't get used to it. It was as if the thudding of her heart just kept on beating faster and faster every morning.
Calm down, Hiromi. Calm down.
It usually took her a long time to get herself together. Flashbacks of what happened before still popped in her head, making her feel more nervous and afraid.
She hyper-ventilated for a few minutes before regaining composure to sit up without trembling as much as she did the other morning.
Night after night... she didn't want this. Every time she woke up, it felt like she had just drowned her self deep into a sea of fear, waking up shaking and trembling and all alone.
She couldn't find anything to console her in-securities. If she told Maachinai about it, she would've sent her to the hospital for who knows how many days. Or worse, a therapist.
Again.
Hiromi rested her forehead on bent knees and sighed. If morning sickness were awful, first-day-at-school was even horrible.
Not only was she late, was she even criticized already. She hated private schools, although she had been in it for years, but she had never hated public school as much as she did to her private ones.
Teachers thought she was weird. Students thought she was weirder and the only person who wanted be friend with her were sad loners who wanted anyone to be with them.
She shunned down the popular groups. She glared at the smart ones.
Maybe she, herself, wanted to be those sad loners, too...
"What's wrong with me," she muttered, raking her fingers along her hairline down the bottom of the back of her skull. It was a question. More of a confused statement.
She turned away when sunlight found the side of her face, causing a little head rush from the aftermath of her little incident a few moments ago.
Her first day of school had just ended, as well as the last of of the week, but she didn't feel any better. Week-ends were supposed to be fun. Where you get excited because you get to hang out with your friends more often and go places where school forbids you to go.
The problem was, there were no friends in her life.
Everyone deserted her after finding out the incident, including her own private incident. Friends turned their back towards her and grown-ups made a rumour about how bad she influenced everyone.
They either use her... or pity her.
Either way, she hated them. She hated everyone.
There was a quiet knock on her door, as if not really expecting to be answered.
"Hiromi?" a low voice said, "are you awake?"
Hiromi raised her head and gave a long stretch, standing up to sharply close the curtains properly.
"Yeah," she replied.
"Your breakfast is getting cold," Maachinai told her, her voice a little louder, "I have to go out to tend the bakery shop. Heat up anything that you find in the fridge. If you don't want them, you can go out and eat with your new friends. I left some money on the kitchen counter."
Hiromi rubbed her temples with ache, before letting all those words sink in her mind. Her headache was returning...
"Yeah. Whatever," she answered, "just hurry up and leave."
"Um... are you all right, Hiromi?" Maachinai asked, "you don't sound okay..."
"Just hurry up and leave!"
Hiromi grabbed a nearby pillow and threw at the door.
Leave me alone! I don't want to deal with you first thing in the morning!
She stood there for five minutes waiting until silence came back alive. And when it did, she walked out of her room and headed towards the bathroom.
She had no idea how she was going to survive her second weekend in Tokyo. She was used to the city but she lived half of her life on a country side. There was no way she could go outside and start asking people to be her friend.
Even if it worked a long time ago, a city was harder to deal with.
Hiromi wasn't surprised to see that Maachinai had renewed the bathroom mirror. She wasn't surprised to find a note saying 'please be careful next time, dear' stuck on the bottom left corner of the looking glass.
She eyed it and ripped it off, crumpling it before chucking it into the garbage.
"I'll hurt myself whenever I want, thanks," she breathed firmly, looking at herself through the mirror. Anywhere her body but the eyes.
I'll hurt myself whenever I want.
She observed her straight-lined lips and extremely pale face. Her messy hair and frowning brows. Anywhere but the eyes.
She turned the caps on the faucet and let the water flow freely down the sink hole. Just when she was about midway into folding her left sleeves up her elbow, she stopped and stared at her wrist.
An image of shoes pinning down her hands onto a gravel ground ran passed her mind as the very visible line of a thick horizontal scar on her right wrist came into view. She felt a quiver on her left hand, noting that they both have the same scar.
It's not a dream...!
She quickly raised the bottom rim of her top and scanned her ribs. She choked when the obvious massive stitch wasn't fading away.
It's not a dream, she thought furiously. Why is it not a dream?
"Traitor."
The word came out of her mouth before she could register it. She touched her bottom lip with trembling hands and looked right through her eyes on the mirror, watching as tears flowed down her cheeks.
Her eyes widened.
"Traitor... traitor..."
She immediately made herself look like she was when she woke up and turned the faucet off. She headed out of the bathroom and decided to eat outside the whole day.
tobecontinued
okay, IM STUMPED in this end. I couldn't think because I probably have issues. It's 1:55 in the morning and i'm frickin typing real loud. Please flame me whenever you want if this deserves a better revising or else I'll just keep writing the next chapter. Please, please enjoy. (faints and sleeps)