It comes back to me in flashes.
As I rack my brain for hours at a time, the fleeting moments of my childhood come falling into place. The violent mess that had become of the place I called home, the supportive arms of the two people I cared most about in the world, and the painful fallout with a person I once saw as a friend.
Before, I had never bothered to try to remember and merely indulged in whatever I desired at the present. But without knowing what happened, how could I understand my feelings for this girl, and the ties of the past holding me back?
"You don't love me; you love what I remind you of and give to you" is what she said.
The love given to me by my sister was one of the few things that kept me on the brink of sanity as a child. Then everything fell apart. I can't deny that the warmth in this girl touched a part of me that had been hidden in the past. Yet is that all she is to me?
I refuse to believe that.
The days I spent with her were filled with a different kind of bliss. The pure jubilation and excitement we experienced were constantly interlaced with passion and desire. My insanity ripped apart all barriers from the very beginning. Together, we created new memories and moved forward at lightning speeds.
But I'm spiraling. My love for her is a painful reminder of the past. She's right; I can't move on. Not yet. I need to resolve the plague spreading in my body. That's why I need to remember every detail so I can clear my head.
Of course, she is absolutely not allowed to simply leave while this is happening. I've locked her up nice and safe in a place only I have access to. My love for her is being tested, but it won't waver. I'll make sure of that.
I descend the musty stairwell leading to a private underground room. The massive iron door is locked with a series of combinations unknown to anyone other than me. I'm not even entirely sure where I was getting the numbers from. With a click, it swings open.
She lies on a large bed with her arms folded near the pillow and her head turned slightly to the side. Is she sleeping? It's the middle of the night, but I don't usually sleep this early. I wonder what she is dreaming about. Me? She better be.
The room is grand and luxurious, fit for a princess. I remember her childish fantasy of wanting to be one. I remember every word she has ever uttered. I've filled it with many items she likes, including a grand piano and a book shelf of those idiotic young adult novels. A few of my personal favorites are tossed in there just in case she comes to her senses and decides to read something good. Of course, there is a small basket of oranges and clementines in the corner.
I kneel down beside her and watch her chest rise and fall with every breath she draws. The silky night gown she wears slips off her shoulder a bit. I'm tempted to rip it off, but settle on gazing at her resting face instead.
Her cheeks are rosy and her lips are parted slightly. Combined with the loose, wrinkled night gown, she unconsciously emits a very seductive aura. A wayward strand of hair falls across her face and I quickly brush it away, stroking her cheek in the process.
Just gazing at her beauty would be enough to satisfy me for years. I'm drawn to her allure and mechanically bring my face closer to hers. Indeed, I am a prisoner of love. And she is a prisoner.
A soft cry escapes from her mouth and she abruptly awakens. Her sapphire eyes meet mine and she blinks for a few times, still groggy. Then she gasps and recoils, drawing the blanket higher around herself.
"Did you sleep well?" I inquire.
A crease forms between her eyebrows and she opens her mouth then closes it, as if considering what to say. Is there anything to think about? Just say what comes to mind. I'm overcome with a strong sense of dominance and pull her to me.
"Look at me." I command.
Her pale cheeks glow with a pink undertone, but her eyes are someplace else. Shadows dance on her irises, as if she is deep in thought and unaware of my presence. Do I need to make myself more clear to her? Why isn't she paying attention to me?
I push her down onto the pillows and kneel down on top of her, leaving only an inch or two of space between us. She gives far less of a reaction than when we first met, merely widening her eyes a bit. It's slightly frustrating to say the least.
"Rin!" I shout. Her name rolls off my tongue and I wonder why I didn't say it more often.
She is startled by this, and snaps up her head to look at me. A soft smile escapes her lips and she exhales a puff of air, as though chuckling. "I feel like that's the first time you've called my name like that."
"Huh?" For once, I'm the one at a loss for words.
"To be honest, you actually don't talk as much as one would imagine. It's mostly through your actions that I can sense what you're thinking about." She admits.
I suppose I am a more thought-oriented person. How she managed to comprehend me at all is rather impressive. Indeed, she is truly meant for me.
"In that case, guess what I'm thinking about." I murmur.
Her mouth opens to respond, but I swiftly plant a kiss on her lips before she can speak. I catch a whiff of citrus as I deepen the kiss, parting her mouth and allowing my tongue to slip through. So she has been eating the fruit I gave her. The thought pleases me and I caress her with more passion.
Gradually, I shift my focus downwards and leave territorial markings around her upper body. A strangled moan comes from her as I gently nip at her neck. The emotions between us have grown mutual over the time we've spent together and I smile at her inability to resist. She is taking pleasure in this.
Through shaky breaths, she gasps out "You're obviously thinking of something dirty."
I pause for a moment and probe her for more. "And?"
Her face turns beet red and she stammers. "M-Maybe comparing this to before?"
Interesting. "Good guess. It seems that you're giving into your desires a lot more. You don't push me away so fast anymore. Don't restrain yourself if you want me that badly."
"W-What?!" Embarrassed, she makes a half-hearted attempt to escape, and ends up grasping my jacket for support instead.
I take this gesture as an invitation to continue, and draw her into my arms. I playfully bite her ear and roughly kiss and suck at her shoulder. Her back stiffens and arches forward, and I feel her grip tighten around my chest.
"Ah…w-wait…This isn't what I was planning to do when you came here." She groans, but does not do anything to struggle against me. It seems she has finally submitted to my control.
"In that case, what do you propose we do?" I humor her, but fondle her curves through the thin, silky fabric of her dress.
"Review your past." She bluntly replies.
I break away, expecting her to say this. I had only hoped she would wait until after we made love. A sigh flows from my mouth and I reluctantly move to sit next to her.
"So what do you want to know?" I ask.
She's stunned at my immediate response and sucks in some air. "W-Well, Oliver-kun told me pretty much everything, though I want your input and confirmation."
She falters, and I motion for her to continue.
"Your dad had some problems…schizophrenia?...and didn't really like taking his medications. Most of his violence was taken out on your mother, though after a while he went after you and your sister." She speaks hesitatingly and nervously.
"Well hearing voices and seeing things can do that to a person. It really stumps me as to why mother married him in the first place. Maybe she was a gold digger and saw an easy target. I guess that's karma for you." I interject.
She looks horrified.
"Don't be so cautious. You're probably one of the only people I would even want to share this with." I amend.
"A-Anyways, you spent your days with Lenka and Oliver. You guys were the best of friends for a while. Then your mother couldn't take it anymore and left."
Nostalgia crept into my voice as I reminisced my time with them. "Those two made life a lot easier. Onee-chan took care of me and raised me really well, considering she was only a year older. When our mother left, she was really devastated and got more distant with us. And Oliver is actually my step-brother; his mother had an affair with my father without her husband knowing. Even so, we were still close."
"But Oliver said that there was a big fallout between you two, which caused him to lose an eye." She objects.
He didn't specify? I'm not surprised. Of course that bastard didn't tell her everything.
"It took me a while to realize it, but Oliver had been obsessed with my sister the entire time. He had a shed plastered from top to bottom with pictures of her. I was disgusted and enraged. After she committed suicide, I snapped and burned his house down. Then I murdered my father." I spat.
By now, she is visibly shaking. "The other day though…Oliver said she faked it?"
I nod. "That's what I'm confused about."
I pull out the paper that had fallen from his pocket and hand it to her.
"What's this?" She asks.
"This fell out of Oliver's coat the last time he came here. It's my sister's suicide note, but it's not the same one I found in her hand that day. I don't know which is the real one." I explain.
"It is really okay for me to be reading this?" She questions.
"Of course. Now that you're involved in all this, you should know." I urge her to open it.
She unfolds the crinkly paper and silently mouths the words as she reads.
Dear my precious little brother,
I'm so, so sorry that I did this. I tried to be strong, I really did. But I just can't hold this family together anymore, especially now that mom left. The pain in my heart grows with each passing second and sometimes, it takes all the strength I have to smile. When I look out the window, I see children and their parents laughing and having fun as a family. Why can't that be us? I try to recreate that happiness with you, and forget the terrors at home. We had some good times, and you have brought me genuine smiles. Yet why do I feel like crumbling into dust? Why do I feel so alone? I guess it was stupid of me to shoulder everything on my own.
I'm scared. I'm scared of father, I'm scared for our future, and I'm scared of the person I'm becoming. I'm faking everything. I'm not happy at all. I don't want to play. I want to curl up into a ball and sob for eternity. My façade is breaking and I can't keep it up anymore. I would rather die with love for you in my heart, than become hollow and cold behind a mask. I'm sorry for being so selfish and I hope you can forgive me. I love you.
-Kagamine Lenka
Tears stream down her face by the time she finishes reading. Her fingers tremble and she carefully folds the paper back up and sets it on the bed. Then she turns to me with a heart-breaking expression.
She leans her head against my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her kindness never fails to reach me in places I didn't even know I had. I want to melt in her embrace and disappear with her from this world. I hug her body tightly and breathe in her sweet scent. If only time passed slower.
Her voice breaks into the silence, muffled by my shirt. "S-So what was in the letter you found in her hand?"
My eyes darken and I feel my body involuntarily stiffen. She notices and glances at me worriedly.
"Something much different." I mutter.
