A/N: Oy vay.. I found time to do this. I'm happy BR got this far… I didn't expect it to.. Especially since it was a spur of the moment idea. So, well.. let's see.. I know I wanted to say something… Hm.. Oh yea, thanks to all my reviewers and such, you really get me motivated and ..er.. such. I really need motivation right now. I've heard a lot of encouragement, so I'll keep going. Great ideas people, keep ushering them in. Oh yea, If you have MSN Mess. I'd be happy to talk to you online! That sounds so pathetic. Anyways, Thanks and such… I'll come out with other things to say later, I know it.
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Ryou sighed. He lay in his bed as the ceiling fan overhead whirled round and round. The day was still young and he had found nothing to do besides lay there, waiting until Bakura came home. Til then, Ryou was alone in his house, a danger to himself. Bored and angsty.
To the right of him, in the desk drawer of his nightstand… there was a knife. A perfectly sharpened knife.
Carefully picking himself up, the youth leaned on a shoulder/elbow staring. He wanted to. But would he allow himself to? It looked so appealing at this very moment. So taunting… Finally after about 10 minutes of contemplating, he sat perfectly up and reached over to the drawer, opening the lock on it and sliding it out. His eyes rested on what he sought. A perfect escape.
Picking it up in his outstretched hand, the boy brought it back to his body rather.. eagerly. He sat a bit hunched now, holding the precious knife in his arms. It was a sleek silver.. no bigger than the size of your palm, even with the blade out. The blade was the best feature though… he had spent many hours sharpening that knife to perfection. Of course, he had used it sometimes… the proof was all over his body. Scars were scattered on him like seeds on the air, and it was a miracle no one noticed. Now, he hadn't committed this act in so long.. maybe running on two weeks now. And he felt like he HAD to. Already this had become an addiction for him, a deadly one.
Since he still wore his pajamas, it was easier to do this. ( Pajamas: Red checkered/plaid bottoms long and a black tee shirt a bit big.) His hair was loose now, and clouding his eyes.. those almost dead brown eyes. Flicking the blade out and in for the first few minutes always calmed him a bit down.. and when it came down to it.. to do the "deed" as he loved calling it, he simply kept the perfect blade out and rolled up his left sleeve revealing the tender skin of his shoulder. Ryou pressed the tip to his skin (top of shoulder) and dug it in. Wincing was inevitable. Then after regaining himself, he dragged the knife downwards, up until he reached the point where his shirt sleeves ended. Then he repeated the same process three more times.. except on the fourth one, he tore in too deep, and caused himself to hit a nerve, which sent the knife across the room and his hand to his shoulder. Ryou rocked back and forth to calm himself, and felt as the blood poured into and over his hand. But he cupped the cuts protectively. Instinctively.
Another few minutes passed of him yelling and wincing.. and like nothing he shrugged it off. Picking up some cleansing tools and materials from under his bed, Ryou managed to bandage himself and cleaning up the mess he made.. Making his way across the room to retrieve his knife, the tears throbbed. When he did pick up the knife.. he stared at the blood dripping off of it. It was his life essence… blinking the boy cleansed the blade too and hid it once more for another day.
Once more returning to his bed, Ryou gently lay down once again. The cuts would blend in with all the other ones Bakura had inflicted, so he wouldn't notice. He hated how that was the only escape of pain he could manage… but it was his saving grace. It told him he was alive…human. And so he would continue down this pain infused path… until someone would catch him before he fell…
Inside Ryou's soul room, the white rose withered a bit more. A petal threatened to fall, but didn't. Meanwhile the black rose seemed to grow more and more vibrant as if it were feeding off it's 'brother'.
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A/N: How you like? Review. I think most of my success from writing Angst is because I've actually experienced the things I write about. Like Ryou in the last chapter was me a few months ago. It's like I make him have the same mind set as I. And so it's easier. Hm, well remember my offer about the msnm thing, and email me your addresses or add them into the reviews. I always love to talk… Yea… I have no life outside of writing so you'd be doing me a favor. Heh, well, Til next we meet..
-Ryou Marik