Disclaimer: Do I fucking look like someone who owns YGO?

A/N: Well here we are after that rather......dark previous chapter. What I can I say, I like writing angst Rubs back of head nervously Anywho, I like to use symbolism in my fics, as you'll find out in this chapter. Hey, here's an idea, anyone who can guess what the symbolism means gets the next chapter dedicated to them, (minus deceptive-innocence who already knows) and thanks again for all your great reviews! They really help me get off my ass and write, so here's the shout outs!

Cymoril Avalon: Bakura? Bakura doesn't make an appearence in this fic. Srry to any Bakura fans out there. Forced? Well............. i didn't thik it was and i'm just too busy to go back over some things. Thanks for pointing that out though! P.S. I need my soul to live and finish this fic.

loathed wolf spirit: Lol, thanks for the encouragement, and don't mind Deceptive-Innocence... she's my best friend and lives to annoy me, plus she was joking............ I think. Anyways, ya, I was thinking about having Yami save her but them I'm like hmmm............. nah, I think I'll fuck my character over. What can I say? I'm evil.

The Summer Stars: Ya, srry but there's no Yami in this chap because I revised it because the first version was crap so ya............. but he'll be in the next one i promise! Anyways yes, it was bad for her, but it all plays it's role in the end, and I totally agree with what you muttered about men under your breath... they should all go to the shadow realm. Neways, hope ya liek this chap!

Ralphiere: Fluffy? #laughs# Does this story looks like it's going to go fluffy? #laughs again# No, I plan on keeping it dark, although it does lighten up a little bit but then well........... you'll just have to wait and see Evil grin thanks for the review and i hope you like this chapter.

suicide-greeting: grins that's the beauty of twists. You make it seem liek one things going to happen and then change it! Well, here's the update, enjoy it. Oh, and cool name by the way, wait, have I said that before?

serpent-vampfreak: Ya, it would have been odd ne? You have msn? Cool! Ya, I'll make sure to accept you onto my contacts, although I'm not on alot because I can only use msn at my friends house because I'm a poor internet and cableless freak so ya. Neways, here's the next chapter.

Wheeew #wipes forehead# Noe that that's over with, hope ya'll like this chapter!

Like Petals From A Rose

Chapter Five

Vision In A Dream

What was this, inside my mind?

Singing?

But who was it?

My body seemed to float as I stood up, following the sound of the voice through the dark halls, somehow knowing my way through the suffocating darkness that I couldn't even see my own hand in. it seemed I had walked forever until I reached a door.

How I knew there was a door there I didn't know, my hand reached up of it's own accord, pulling the handle that was cloaked in the blackness. A creak sound as it opened, and instantly my hands rose to shield my eyes from the blinding light.

At least until I realized that it caused my absolutely pain, only from within my heart that was suddenly filled with a great sadness, although I knew not why.

Blinking I stepped into the room, the voice raising in volume the closer I got, but I couldn't make the words although I felt as if I should know them well.

Then the possessor of the voice came into my range of vision and I gasped.

A little girl, no more the 7, with my dark brown hair and aqua eyes. She seemed unaware of me, as if she was in her own world entirely, playing in the sandbox that was filled with black sand, and it was only when my hand reached out to touch her small shoulder that she looked up at me.

"Are you here to play with me?" She asked cutely, her eyes brightening from their previous dull shine to the sparkle of a small child's hope before they dulled again as she looked down. "All the other kids went away a long time ago." Numbly I nodded my head, my heart going out to this little girl who looked so much like myself.

And it was strange that the room was entirely white, the sand being the only black in the entire room that seemed to stretch on forever.

I smiled as I bent down beside her, placing my hands in the oddly colored sand.

A small cry escaped my lips and I instantly pulled my hands back from the burning heat. How the hell could she stand it? Almost as in answer to my question she looked up at me, her aqua gaze locking with my own.

"I know it's a little hot at first, but you get used to it, see?" She lifted her hands, revealing burn marks all over them, but that's not what drew my attention to most - it was the scar marks on her arms, looking almost as if she had made them herself, the way I did.

Shaking my head to clear the thoughts I turned back to the small girl.

"Then why don't you leave if it hurts?"

"Because I can't." She replied sadly. "She won't let me."

"She? She who?" Saying nothing, but showing an obvious look of discomfort she pointed towards what I could only assume was a corner in the vast room, and my gaze followed her hand until it locked onto the figure that loomed just in sight.

If I had had something in my hands, it surely would have dropped to the ground in shock.

This girl..........this women....... She looked exactly like me!

But her eyes......... her eyes, and hair weren't mine.

Her eyes were black and cold, showing nothing in their depths, her hair matching the dark hues, and from what I could tell, there was blood..........

Blood dripping from her arm onto the white floor (if it could be called that) below, making a dark puddle, while her other hand held a knife stained with long dried blood, and her clothing was rather........ revealing.

"She's the one that made these." The girl said, openly showing me the slash marks on her arms. Then before I knew what was happening, the little girl began to slip farther and father away me, the previously white room falling into darkness.

"No!" I yelled, trying to reach for the girl, trying to save her from what I knew loomed in the shadows, but my hand slipped right through hers.

"Help!" She sobbed, reaching for me, but again it failed.

"No!"

The sound of the scream awoke me, making me bolt straight up, my eyes searching wildly around before I realized the scream had been my own.

Closing my eyes I leaned back, expecting to hit the semi-softness of my bed in my half-awake state, but instead I hit hard concrete, making dots flutter across my vision before it cleared, last nights events rushing into my memory with a force almost as brutal as the way they had treated me.

I looked down, and groaned at seeing my ripped clothing that covered nothing at all, making me wonder who would had seen me. After a second thought, I decided that probably no-one seeing as I had been draped behind a dumpster.

How long had I been out?

It was still nightfall which made me believe that it couldn't have been more then an hour, two at the most. I wanted to cry, I really did, but I wouldn't.

Not again, not ever would I cry over a male. I was done with that, done with all of them.

Shaking my head I tried to chase the thoughts away, and it worked, seeing as something else entirely replaced it.

The dream.

What was it all about? What did it mean?

I knew that all dreams meant something, but I didn't understand this one in the least. The girl that had looked me with the black hair and eyes, her wrists bleeding, holding the knife that had either cut the child or herself.

I didn't make sense.

In my thoughts I hadn't realized that I was shaking from the cold until I heard the sound of my own teeth chattering.

A sudden feeling of hopelessness washed over me as I realized that I couldn't very well walk on the street with the clothing I had, not to mention the soreness in my thigh reminded me of the slash that I had received.

Bracing myself for the worst I looked down.

A long gash from my thigh to my knee occupied the space, as well as the rest of my leg was covered in dried flaky blood. I sudden urge to tear open the wound again coursed through my mind but I fought it back. Doing that would just make it harder to get back home.

Slowly I reached for my forgotten trench coat and slung it over myself, using it to cover my near nakedness as I used the dumpster to pull myself up.

A cry of pain escaped my lips as I felt the gaping wound reopen slightly, slipping a trail of blood down my leg for the second time that night. Needless to say, I fell back to the ground. The pain in my leg was great, but nothing compared to what was going on inside of me.

I had allowed myself to be used by a man in a way that I had sworn after the fifth time would never happen again, and yet here I was - still a whore. So many emotions stirred through my mind that I wanted to cry, scream, break things and kill myself all at the same time.

I hated this, this human weakness, rendering me so breakable and helpless like this. But I was determined to get out of here. I had learned young that this world doesn't give a shit about your feelings or your pain, and that nobody in this world is going to help you but yourself.

I could do this if I just ignored the pain, after all, I wasn't that far away from my home. Throwing the trench coat over myself (I was thankful that came past my knees), I braced myself and made another attempt at standing.

This one was successful, albeit painful, but I didn't let it stop me. I had to get out of here before........

A lump formed in my throat and I forced myself to swallow it down. I was shaking again, but I didn't know if it was from the cold, or from fear.

Leaning my weight against the cold metal of the dumpster I heaved a sigh that was closer to a sob then I would have liked to admit, but I fought against it. Like I said before, I would never, ever, cry over a man again.

I was done with being used, with being fucked and hurt.

At that thought my hand rubbed my inner wrist where the one male's cigarette had burned it. That scar was never going to fade, but what did it matter? One more scar on my already badly scarred body, I was ugly anyway.

My trip home was slow and painful, also earning me some odd looks and I must have looked like hell with my pronounced limp. Some offered help, but I pushed them away. Never again would I accept fucking help, besides, I have a feeling that my willpower was the only thing that got me home to begin with.

I bit back a cry as cleaned the wound with warm water, letting the trails of blood wash down the drain. I didn't have any bandages so I compromised by ripping one of my towels in half and using it as a wrap, and it was only then I allowed myself to collapse into my bed.

I tried as hard as I could to force down the memories of what they had done to me mere hours ago, but it refused to recede, preferring to play again and again as if a silent film reel was engaged in a never ending premiere.

You'd think I would have been used to this now, after having been raped by five different men if you included the four tonight as one.

God, how I wanted to die.

More then anything I wanted the hands of death to bestow it's gentle touch and rid me of this world that was so cold and uncaring.

But more then anything I hated myself for my weakness, and I could hear the razors call from the bathroom. And like a sailor to a siren's call, I had no choice but to obey.

Picking up the small object I ran it across my flesh, watching with renewed rapture as the wound split, revealing my white skin to the world before it filled with crimson tears that poured from the wound in a steady stream.

To others it may have been frightening, but to me, it held a morbid beauty that I couldn't even begin to describe. But beautiful as it was, it didn't lift the heavy weight in my chest, and before I knew what was happening, tears were streaming down my face.

But it wasn't like when I was little, when I had a friend to wipe them away.

No, this time, I was truly alone.

Because for me, there was no 'light at the end of the tunnel' no 'light within the darkness', only darkness itself to consume what was left of my heart.

Well, let it die.

Maybe I would die with it.

The wound stopped bleeding and I glared down at it before raising the blade and making another. I don't know how it happened, but the next moment, or so it seemed, my entire arm was hacked, blood pouring from the wounds as if in a river of scarlet.

But I didn't care.

I was too damn broken to care.

And it seemed that life had once again ripped away my hope. Just when I believed that I could amount to something......... they had to come along and rip away every shred of belief. And I wanted to scream..... but no sound came out my lips, instead I held it in as always, even as the blood continued to flow.

But it didn't concern me.

The bleeding of my body would stop.

But the bleeding of my heart......

The only that would stop was if I was dead.

A/N:

Well, there we have it, four and ΒΌ pages long. Could have been a bit longer, but hey....... I was a little stuck with this chapter because I wasn't sure if Yami should find her..... but I decided on this instead. Will Sekka try to kill herself? Smirks Well, you'll just have to wait and see, but Yami makes an appearance in the next chapter, and there might be a clash...... I'm not sure yet.

Anyways, remember about my little contest so to speak...... whoever correctly picks up on what the dream was supposed to represent, or whoever is the closest (besides Deceptive-Innocence) gets the next chap dedicated to them! So just clicky that little review button down there and tell me what ya think!