A/N

I apologize for the late update, thank you for waiting patiently. Enjoy.

The Love of a Silent Star

Love and Hate, are they the Same?

Chapter Nineteen

The Past

Edward walked into the room, as calm as usual. No emotion sparked on his face or in his eyes. Most of the boys there had grown to hate him. They believed the "higher ups" favored him and gave him special treatment.

Only one boy looked upon Edward like something to be seen and heard. Edward walked to William, even though the boys there hated Edward, they liked William. He had a pure heart.

William smiled as Edward approached him. He was his favorite, out of all the boys there, he believed he could truly trust Edward. His Edward.

"Hello Edward, how did your day go?"

Edward sat down in front of William, on the opposite bed.

"Tough."

"What do you mean?"

Edward looked William straight in the eyes. He stood for a second and sat back down next to William. William turned his body so he could be facing Edward, comfortably.

Edward leaned forward and placed his hand on William's chest, just keeping it there.

"Do you love me William?"

William was some what stunned at the question. "Yes Edward, I love you so much." William said with no hesitation, fore he truly did believe that he loved Edward.

Edward leaned foreword slightly coming within an inch of Williams face.

"Close your eyes for me William." Edward whispered to him and he quickly responded. "I want to hear you say it again, say you love me again."

Williams mind was racing at the feelings and thoughts that Edward was conjuring up.

"Let me hear you say you love me."

"I love you Edward." The words left his mouth, and Edwards lips were gently placed over his lips, sealing his mouth, with his own.

No one screamed, no one breathed, no one blinked. The boys were to stunned as they watched the body of their friend fall to the floor. Edward stood and looked down at the body and the blood. Blood was spewing out of the wound, moving across the floor to move past Edwards feet. Williams eyes were still closed and his mouth was slightly open.

Edward wiped the blade of the knife on the thin blanket.

Two of the boys fell to their hands and knees. Boys there had died, from many things. Some didn't have names, no identity, nothing to truly say that they were alive. But William, he was different, he was a somebody. He was someone that one could count on, he was kind and gentle.

When the shock was some what over, some boys let the tears fall, because of the boy that now lay on the ground, William was pure. One boy looked at Edward, not even William had warmed his heart, if he even had one. William, the one that cared for everyone, smiled and brought some joy there, not William……

A loud clapping was heard, and a large man walked in, "Impressive work, boy, impressive." The man said, stopped clapping and placed his hands behind his back.

Edward turned and threw the knife to the ground, letting another pick it up. "Thank you Sir."

"Come." The man gestured and Edward followed, not looking back upon the corpse, fore he was exactly the same, Edward knew.

They went to another room, some men stood there. There was a metal table in the middle of the room and the doctor motioned his hand toward it. Edward complied and sat down on the table.

"What did you feel when he stated that he loved you?"

"His words were nothing."

"I would like to know why you wanted him to repeat himself."

"I told him to say, 'I love you,' he did not say the words the way I wanted him too."

"When you kissed him, how did you feel?"

"It was just a touch of the skin, nothing more."

"How did you feel when you thrust your knife into him?"

"I felt nothing, I was given the order to kill him, I carried out that order."

"Do you know the difference between sex, kissing and killing?"

"Sex is when two bodies are joined together to bring pleasure to either one individual or too both. Kissing is when one places his or her mouth on the other persons mouth, or in some cases on different parts of the body. Killing is one or more individuals taking the life of another, to rid the world of one more person. When one kills another, this ensures that that person which is dead, won't come back."

"Very good, did you relish the experience you encountered moments ago?"

"Yes."

"What part did you like best?"

"I found both experiences of kissing and taking a life to be most enjoyable."

The man in the background chuckled aloud, "Perfect, perfect……,perfect. The perfect machine, unique in every way. Perfect." The man said and again looked Edward up and down, a smile on his face. He turned his head and looked at the woman in the corner, her arms folded, her eyes closed and her head leaning down ward. "What do you think?"

"It is your choice, my word is nothing to you." The woman stated calmly.

"True, very true. He is perfect." The man said again, looking at Edward. His eyes stared straight ahead, like a corpse that had been taken out of a freezer and made to sit erect. His body was stiff and very still. His gaze did not falter from the wall in front of him.

"Now if that is all…?"

"Well there is one more thing that I should mention……"

"And that one more thing would be?"

"Its about the boy, you see, when we studied him we found something wrong with his head."

"And…?"

"It seems that when he was still a young boy, he suffered a rather nasty head injury, that we believe is why he is now like this." The doctor said, gesturing toward the boy.

"And your telling me all of this, why?"

"Well because it might make him go….loose, if you know what I mean. Flip his lid, his cork un-screw, him go bonkers, him go all flippy, he could…."

"Enough, can I use him?"

"Oh sure, sure, just want to be careful, yes careful." The man stated rubbing his two dirty and greasy hands together, and licking his lips.

The Present

Edward briefly closed his eyes, as he sat in the chair located in his room, next to his window.

Edward could remember some of his past, when he closed his eyes. They were always there, the memories, never any good ones though.

Edward remembered the groans, pants, screams and the smell. He remembered what some would call his mother, on her knees in the middle of the floor, legs spread, ass high in the air, and a different man always above her, thrusting in and out, always the same.

She would laugh and moan loudly, just like a whore. She loved when they hit her and fucked her hard, which some would call rape. Different men would always come in and fuck her in front of him. At the time, when men came, he was too small to even notice. So he would stay in a corner, wrap his thin arms around his thin legs and rest in chin on his knees, watching the scenes unfold before him.

It was always the same, "Ohhh god, fuck me, fuck me." His "mother" would plead to every man that came on to her. "Harder, harder, don't' stop, fuck me like a bitch in heat, yes that's it, so hard."

And than they would hit her and laugh and scream. And she would enjoy it all, it gave her a thrill. Than when her ass would bleed from the abuse she was fall to her stomach and breath hard. She would crawl to her son, panting like a dog, a smile on her face and a lustful look in her eyes.

"There's my little boy." She would say, "How's my little boy? Did you enjoy what mommy did? Did it give you a thrill? Why don't we see?" She would say and then pull his arms away and spread his legs wide.

"Awww my boy, I don't think my baby boy was exited. I think he wants mommy to touch him." She would say to him and smile and than pull the cloths from his small and frail body.

The small boy would not fight back, ever since he could remember, it was always the same.

She would pant and her breathing would become shallow. Her eyes would widen slightly and a hungry look would come into her eyes.

"My boy is getting big." She would say and wrap her hand around his small manhood. He never moved when she placed her mouth on him. She would moan, either for her pleasure or the thought that he was actually enjoying himself.

She would lick his body, put her fingers into his frail body, and he would shut his eyes tightly in pain.

"Come on baby, you know you want to fuck mommy. You want mommy. You want to stuff your little cock into me."

He wouldn't of course. She would soon drag herself away, sulking until another came. And than the routine would start again.

Edward fingered the scar, hidden by his hair.

He remembered that night clearly.

A man had come in, and of course did his business with the little boys mother. Her screaming and everything. The little boy watched as the man threw her about the room, doing different things to her. She laughed and enjoyed the treatment in every way possible.

He would call her different names such as, "Fucking slut or fucking whore."

That night it had been of course raining extremely hard. The little boy again sat in the corner arms wrapped around his legs, his eyes taking in the sight before him. It was nothing new to him.

The man once having finished, turned his attention to the small boy.

"Who the fuck is this?" He yelled.

The woman laughed, "It's your son you son of a bitch," She yelled at him, "It's your bastard son."

"God you are a whore." He yelled back and stocked over to the boy in his heavy steel toe boots. "And you are nothing but trash, mother of trash, I'm going to throw you out." He spat down at the boy, who could do nothing to defend himself.

The man picked him up by the front of his shirt and held him there in the air. The last thing the little boy had heard was of laughter, as his small form, smashed head first into the wall. There was only a small scream and a grunt as the body fell to the floor. That was the last thing he could remember for some time.

Edward opened his eyes, the memories were nothing to him. He could care a less. He looked one last time out the window before exiting the room and going downstairs.

Edward wondered where Alphonse was but, dismissed the thought for the moment.