Summary: Kagome moved from Japan to America when she was in seventh grade. She stopped talking in eighth grade, and no one knows why. Now, in eleventh grade, Kagome will undergo a series of events that will dramatically change her...Kagome's POV.

Rated M. Why? Because my mind has many bad things in it and I don't know what I might use...

Dates Written:
May 5th, 2006

Sorry for the slowing in the way things have been written. I have started reading this story, and it distracts me from writing. I'm trying hard to keep up with you guys, though!

Warning, there is "emo"-bashing in this chapter (let me know if you don't know what emo means). There is also bashing on cutters. I don't mean to offend people like that (I still consider myself to be one), but I think the bashing will help strengthen your understanding of Kagome… Sorry to babble, but I just felt the need to warn you.

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The Games We Play
Entry Eleven: Depression Attack

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Day Eleven: Wednesday

Wow. Two ones… It still amazes me the fact that I can keep the diary up this long… Well, it feels like it's been longer. Of course, it always feels that way when you have to document each day on it's own. Booooooring!

I got back from Sango's really late. It's almost one in the morning, but I can't sleep. So, I figured I'd start typing what happened today (I guess, technically, it's yesterday) until I get tired.

Well… I don't think I ever remember being so depressed before. Today was a drag. I mean, there was just so much that I was thinking about. It's not happy thinking. It's depressed thinking… I guess I'll start telling you what happened rather than going off on a tangent.

Well… I'm still sore from everything I did with everything Sesshoumaru and I did. Oh, that sounds perverted, doesn't it?

But, I was really sore this morning (and I still am!), and I got in my car and drove to school. I would have walked, but I was hardly able to get down the stairs with my feet still under me.

So, I drove to school. I didn't have anything to do at home, so that caused me to get there early. Thankfully, it was early enough for parking spaces near the school. It would have been plain torture if I had to walk all the way across the parking lot.

I got to school, and Miroku greeted me. He said that Sango ditched today. She had told him why, but he told me that he forgot. Just like Miroku to do that.

Miroku asked me if I would eat lunch with them, and I said that I wouldn't. Inuyasha had yet to apologize to me. Then Inuyasha came out of nowhere and looked at me.

He told me that he was sorry, but he couldn't help the fact that I had been with his bastard of a brother. I signed to him (Miroku interpreted) that I would forgive him. Because Inuyasha has to have the last word, he broke forth with another thing that really insulted me.

He asked me about my virginity. He said that he overheard his brother mumbling about it at home (although I think he was eavesdropping). He asked if I had given myself to Sesshoumaru.

When I glared at him, he pressed on. Perhaps he's one of those sadistic people who takes pleasure in other people's pain. He sensed my pain, and decided to cause more of it. The bastard. I swear that one of these days (while I'm still mad at him) I will rip him a new ass.

He asked if that was the reason he could smell a man's semen on and in me. Of course, he didn't even take the time to consider that Andrew (probably) smells NOTHING like Sesshoumaru!

I don't have a demon's sense of smell, so I can't say for sure.

I looked at Inuyasha and I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I walked up to him and looked at him square in the eye. Everything in me wanted to pounce on him and kill him. But, I didn't.

My entire being was desperate to actually speak. To yell at him and tell him to stop speaking. To tell him that he knows nothing of what he's talking about.

But, I didn't. My glare turned into a stare as my anger turned to grief. I walked away.

I felt so horrible as I tried desperately to deal with my emotions. I was angry at him. But, beyond that anger, there was grief. I knew that my sadness was obvious. So, I went to class and put my head down the entire class.

The only class that I did look up in was in math. The teacher finally took down the out-of-place world map. The kids were reading my words of anger over and over. I didn't even care.

You bastard. Don't you ever try to molest me again. My grades will improve without you fucking me. I hope that you are never able to remove these words. Keep it as a reminder that you have NO RIGHT to touch me, or any woman, with your filthy, sex-covered hands.

If anything, the words only made me feel worse. As the pain in my heart rose, my head sank back to the desk.

What caused me to be this way? What made me so different that I was misused? What forced all the unwanted attention to shift onto me? Even further than what, why did all this happen?

Does fate have a sadistic sense of humor? It must. I mean, if fate had cared an inkling about me, then I wouldn't have to deal with the scars I bare. Not just the emotional ones. There are physical scares, too.

My head has a scar under my hair. It runs from the back of my head down my neck. I have a scar on my hips. And there are areas under my breasts that are scarred… But, thankfully, no one will ever see those scars.

The emotional scars are even worse. I can't trust anyone. I can't even trust myself. Want proof? I stopped talking because I could not trust myself to speak without giving my horrible secret out.

I can't trust anyone else, either. I am extremely uncomfortable around people, men in particular. If I'm alone with them, my body will begin to tense up, and my brain shuts down. I guess my body assumes that if I don't think or move, it won't hurt.

Oh, how I desperately wish that were true! But, due to fate's vicious mind, it's not.

I don't' know why things have happened to me like this. I don't understand what caused me to be raped. There aren't very many girls who are raped. So, why was I one of them? Why did I have to be one of those few girls in the devastating statistic?

Even worse than that. It didn't happen just once. No. It happened four times. Four times! How horrible is that? It has happened to me so many times, I could almost teach myself to get pleasure from this type of disgrace.

Of course, I will never enjoy this. It just hurts too much.

The future hurts, too. I will never know so many different things. When a woman loves a man so much that she's willing to give her body to him… I can't understand this anymore. I used to think of it as natural and I used to think it made sense. Now I'm not so sure.

I can't understand how she can be so devoted to him. I don't understand how they can trust the man so well. What if he turned out to be horrible? How would you know? I guess not knowing and being fine with it is the definition of trust.

I'll never be able to marry, either… Well, not without grief consuming me. What would happen on the honeymoon night? My new husband would try to take me to prove that he loved me and I would forever be his…

And my barrier wasn't even there. It was gone. Even worse, I was slightly loose and tender. That would indicate to him that I had been around. Of course, I would have just told him that I didn't sleep with anyone. And that would be the truth! I hadn't fucked anyone; they all fucked me.

But why? That was the only question that was running through my head as the teacher lectured us on why we should have good study habits. Why?

Why me? Why not the girl next door? Why not the girl halfway across America? Why not another girl from Japan? Why did it have to be me of all people? I had a hard enough time with adjusting to American life. They didn't have to make it harder by taking something from me.

They took more than my virginity… I have realized this as I was walking home. They took every thing from me when they took that one thing. They took my self-confidence, my trust, my heart, my soul. They took the very essence of me.

And, I haven't been able to find it since. It's as if there will never be a way for me to recover from such a loss. There will never be a way for me to smile again. It gets hard for me to smile just when someone cracks a joke.

But, you know what's even worse than knowing all those things were taken from me? You don't, do you? You haven't been violated (of course, you ARE a computer).

Even worse than knowing that all those things are gone. Even worse than knowing that all those things will never come back… Even worse than those two things are the memories. The memories that prove to me that there has been a time when I still held those things.

Without the memories, I'm sure that I would be able to recover much faster. I would accept my fate and assume that it was normal for me. I would be oblivious to the life when I held all those things…

But, I have the memories. They prove to me that there is something I'm missing. And as long as I'm aware of what's missing, I can never be truly happy.

After all, what good is boiling a pot without water?

Okay, so lunch was even worse of a drag. I felt like I had worn out my invitation from Sesshoumaru. After all, he was well aware that I wasn't a virgin. He probably believed that I was a whore, even if he denied ever thinking the idea.

I couldn't eat with Inuyasha. He was also aware that I was "whoring" myself around. If only he knew… And I really wish that he knew… But, I wouldn't be able to go to him. There was no chance that he would let the subject go.

This is Inuyasha I'm writing about. He'll remember it until the day he dies, and he'll make sure I remember it longer than him… That's just the way he is…

So, during lunch, I didn't have money once again. My grandfather forgot to wake me up before he left. Due to that, I couldn't ask him for lunch money. Who shall I ask next? My crazed mother?

I'm not even sure if she knows who I am or who she is… It depresses me even further to know that I caused her to become this way. I didn't mean to make her so sad. I just didn't want her to be hurt by the disgrace that was forced upon me.

Seems that if that couldn't hurt her, that something else I did would. Of course, it was my unresponsiveness and my lack of speaking. That sent her over the edge. Then Souta pushed away her false comfort. And she stopped pretending like she had it all together…

I loved my mother so much, don't get me wrong… But… I just wish that times like now, I could run to her, cling to her, and cry on her shoulder until there were no more tears in me. But, I can't. I know this because I know she hardly recognizes who I am.

So, what other option is there to rid myself of the pain?

Don't even mention those to me. I refuse to do drugs. No matter how much pain there is, I will not let myself slip into another reality like my mother. Even if I do, I will never let myself fall into another world because of a pill, powder, or liquid. It will be because of my own insanity. Nothing else.

I have heard of people cutting to relieve pain. I don't believe in that. It's weak. It proves that you can't stand on your own two feet to relieve the pain. You rely on a knife, razor blade, scissors, or whatever to relieve your pain for you.

That is almost as bad as drugs. But, this doesn't allow you to slip away from the real world. All it does is permit you to bleed. I have heard people saying that the physical pain distracts from the emotional pain.

But that can only last so long. That can only last as long as your blood flows. As much pain as I'm in, I'd need to cut open my veins for the blood to distract me from anything.

Well, I guess talking about it helps somewhat. That's kind of sadistic, isn't it? I'm finding pleasure in talking about how blood can relieve pain. No, it won't relieve pain. I can't let myself think that. If I do, I may allow myself to fall into an emo state.

I understand emo kids. I really do, after all, I am one. I am very emotional and very sad. But, I have a reason to be. Most kids are upset because their parents are divorced, or their dog died, or they ran away because their ex-boyfriends got them knocked up.

They usually bring the problems on themselves. I didn't! It's not my fault that I became this way! No one seems to realize this, though. They all act as if it's my fault and as if I'm some horrible disease. After all, if I was raped, perhaps I'll touch them and then they'll be raped.

God, humans are stupid. Sometimes I wish I were demon just to be able to free myself from that race. Of course, demons are known to be murderous, obsessed, nonchalant, or a million other bad things.

So, I guess humans are better. Nothing extra is required from us…

Oh shit! I completely went off track! I'm so sorry, Mr. Diary! I won't do it again (sounds like a familiar line, huh?)

During lunch, I had to sit alone. I had been a good girl (when the fuck did I start calling myself that?) and did all my homework. So, I sat there. Doing nothing.

I actually wrote a few things down. I wrote down what I thought of everyone. Yes, I know, it's a really stupid thing to have done… But, I was deprived of any other contact that I had. So, here's what I wrote:

Inuyasha: Sure, he LOOKS nice and handsome. But, that's just a surface thing. He's possessive and won't let anyone he considers a friend to be around anyone he doesn't approve of. When you befriend him, you become his property.

Sango: Really kind to those who know her. Anyone she doesn't know or anyone who pisses her off gets her wrath. She's protective, but not possessive like Inuyasha. Like every woman, she wishes to be desired… Particularly by Miroku…

Miroku: He used to be an all-around pervert. But, after he and Sango started becoming closer, his hands were limited to two bodies. Mine and Sango's. He understands sign language, which helps me communicate to Inuyasha and Sango when I need to. And, when there are bad things going on, he'll give his hand to anyone (not in a perverted way, either).

Sesshoumaru: Stoic bastard who uses people for things that only he understands… I'm so going to murder him!

Okay, so those things were really immature. But, that's what happened, so I wrote it down. My last two classes dragged on for ages. Time flies when you're having fun. Well, let's just say that fun was so far away that there was no chance I would ever find it again.

I went to Sango's house afterwards. There, she sat me in front of a computer and introduced me online shopping. She acted as if I didn't know what it was already. When I typed to her that I wasn't interested, she sighed. She put me on the bed and pulled out a movie.

She continued to shop online as I watched "Oceans Eleven". It's a good American movie, I have to admit. But, by the time I was done watching that and all three Matrix movies, it was fourty-five minutes until midnight.

Sango followed me home, just to make sure. Then, at my shrine steps, she apologized. She said she was sorry for the way I was feeling. She knew I was depressed, and she wanted to help.

Then she said that there would be a surprise for me coming soon. I shrugged her comment off then continued to go to my room.

I spent who-knows-how-long trying to sleep before I came here and decided to type my depression out. It's making the pain go away. You know how I can tell? I'm getting tired (FINALLY!)

Well, goodnight Mr. Diary… I will write tomorrow… Just like I do every single day…

O o O o O o O o O o O

It's hard to explain to people what you mean when no one really wants to hear or understand. It's even harder to do when your heart is so guarded that you can't even trust yourself…

O o O o O o O o O o O

I changed the phrase above. And you guys probably thought that I would forget, huh? There are going to be some surprises coming up soon.

Remember, if you don't know what an emo person is, you can ask me. I will answer, just as long as you give me an email address or you're signed in.

Next Chapter: Roses
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- Lonely Bird