Death Of One Already Lost

I have to come back. Though it breaks my heart…I must continue…otherwise you will never understand. He was lost. His soul was dead before his body died. That is what I cannot get over. I could have saved him. Spared him. Done something to prevent the loss of his spirit. I ask the question…not to justify what I have done but to understand… if his spirit had remained in his body…would he have jumped? Plummeted? Down?

It still torments me…it gives me hell. I could be a murderer. I could be responsible. I couldn't bear it. I know you have not been given a name for the dearly departed. You should know by now. Someone you would never expect. One who risks their lives for others? One who is resourceful? One who can never leave the other behind? Think who you know it is not. It is not Kai. It is not Tyson…Max…Ray…could be female…and yet is not…I understand I have used male inclinations through previous back tracks but genderless often is the better.

Anyone once called upon will risk his or her life for another. Anyone can come up with ideas. I speak of course…not of the Bladebreakers. Not of the Demolition Boys. Neither the White Tigers nor the Allstarz. I speak of Mystel. Such a free spirit, carefree. How could he be led so far astray? He wore that masque for a reason.

Such a brilliant child…how could he follow the wrong path without motivation? He was easily driven wrong. His family torn from him. No one to turn to, to find long awaited comfort. He was all alone. Once Boris found him…well…that part will come later when justice can be done.

Let me continue my tale:

Taken into hospital after escaping from torture at an early age. I had no choice. He refused to go as only the stubborn fool would but he was too weak! I couldn't allow him to continue! He went in and was kept several days. To start we thought it was simply the flu. It developed.

I waited day after day after day. He got worse. Eventually it was declared he had little chance of survival unless they could perform an immediate operation. His illness had developed fatally…we were runaways! Where could I get the money? So I started stealing. I went…sometimes to five houses a night. Always on the rich estates. They had more chance of having valuable things lying about.

The Black Market wasn't the nicest place on Earth but it worked. I made profit from what I had stolen. I made over fifty thousand dollars…until the police were tipped off. I don't know who told…but I was in trouble. Took the money I had made. They would have thrown me in prison had I not been pardoned by the posh party. It still meant I had no money. I had nothing.

I visited the hospital with a sorry heart. I sat in his room and cried. A brain tumour I had found out…only an immediate operation could fix him…I had the money…and now I had nothing. I had disappointed my only friend once again.

It hurt me I could do nothing. Tears fell down my face. My head found its way onto the bed as I sat thinking hard of my options.

A rustle of bedclothes and a warm hand on my head shook me out of my stupor. Mystel…he had woken up. He smiled as if he knew I had let him down. He told me it was going to be ok. His empty orbs had filled with life for a brief moment as if his soul was trying to return to his body.

The next moment his eyes were cold and he seemed to fade. His reassurance was replaced with hard cold hatred. I could only listen as he told me he was alone. His family had disappeared…killed…he was alone. His adoptive father dead…everyone he cared for was dead. I was heartbroken he felt he couldn't accept me.

Once he had fallen to sleep I took to wandering the corridors. I passed the nursery and paused. Looking back I traced the cradles in the glass. Innocent. I understood why he didn't want me too close. From his earlier life he had people taken from him. Though there was nothing in his body except an empty shell…I knew…he was afraid…

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YOU HAVE THE IDENTITY…TELL ME IN YOUR REVIEWS IF YOU EXPECTED THAT!

Aaaaaanyway. Depression of the century!

TO:

Sn0zb0z

Glad you LOVE the story. How many times have you read it then? Thanks for being such a good reader.