Death Of One Already Lost
Afraid…that was what he was…afraid of losing someone else…fearing that should he bring back the care for another…it would be torn…his soul ripped apart. What was left of it. Continue I must…his tale done justice. He was hospitalised. He wouldn't accept anyone else. He was lifeless. He grew thinner and sicker. I didn't know what to do…the money for his operation gone…it killed me…though it did worse for him. All I could do was watch him fall…deeper and deeper.
Then a miracle appeared in the form of BEGA. It happened…I was outside blading. I needed some air…let off steam…I needed a break simply. I couldn't concentrate. Every time I started it went wrong…nothing went right…neither drill nor strategy. My mind wasn't on the game. I snapped to my senses when I heard a voice.
My blade returned to my hand and I stared into the purple haired face. We spoke quick words. His name was Balkov…Boris Balkov…he was setting up a new Beyblading Organisation and wanted new recruitments. I told him about how Mystel had taught me and he became interested. He wanted to meet my friend…he was sorry when he found out…they all were…none of them cared enough to do anything though…usually…this one was different.
He came with me and sat by. Mystel was conscious but didn't care. His eyes were blank and unfocused. Mr Balkov spoke with the doctors while I helped feed my dearest friend. He called me out and told me he would pay for the operation as long as we were recruited to his organisations team. Of course I accepted. I had to accept for Mystel as well. He was too far-gone to give a reasonable answer.
It seemed to go on for hours. It did. One day went by. Two days went by. Soon it had been three weeks. Not straight surgery though. No. It was one or two hours at a time. It was amazing that this guy would spend so much on a guy he didn't even know. Mystel eventually finished his surgery. He went straight into recovery and was quarantined. He was on his own for so long.
I remember…when we were younger together…he would say that no matter what we would always be friends. His mind…it was so fragile…frail…distraught…he saw everyone as his enemy. Before he went in he was screaming. I was no friend…how could I let them take him away? Had I no heart? Yes Damnit! He came out of the theatre and the first words he murmured upon passing me was 'traitor.'
Mystel forgive me. You think I betrayed you. Gave you away to those who would hurt you. Why could you not see I was trying to help? I know you lived a cruel and harsh life. I knew your parents had been ripped from you. Your siblings believed to have been destroyed. You adoptive father taken by He who is powerful over us. God was not on your side. But he sent you a saviour. He sent Boris who was willing to use millions to help you.
You came out a few weeks later. I had been visiting but Boris willed me to live in a nearby apartment. You were asleep most of the times I passed by. You were woken once. For about an hour. You had no recollection of it. Your memories broken while your body recovered. I suppose its true. The body is stronger than the mind. You came out with a mask. A gold mask with red quartz. It was to help you focus yourself. When I remember the arguments you had…with all of us…then you started on…you yelled…I still have the emotional mark where you beat me…
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OK not perfect. It's late when I'm writing this. 22:36 pm my time in the UK!
No one reviewed…though I know you read!