Thanks to everyone that reviewed. I wanted to say that, the reason I had it as Johanan was because, while I lived their (Germany) for a few months, I had a friend, named Johanan. I guess, I just got used to spelling it that way. Sorry about that. And, Frankenshteiny, is Faust and Eliza's second dog, after their first one got killed. They got a German Shepard, and I only put that, because, a lot of Shepard's get trained their. Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: As you all know, I don't own Shaman King. I wish I did, because, that would be a lot of money in my pocket. And… their would be severe changes. Like… no more… EN TAO! If anyone hasn't noticed, I have a severe Hatred/Fear of En, and it will not go away. I know. It sucks. I don't know if he's scarier big, or when he's normal sized. shiver Not to sure yet. Well, As I stated, Shaman King is not mine. BUT! I WILL OWN IT SOMEDAY! MARK MY WORDS! laughs evily, then chokes on own saliva, and gets Heimlich maneuver from random raccoon
Chapter Two: Love and passion is strong, but so is hatred, and a deathbed vow.
"Vader. Vader, please, stay. Don't… You're all I have. All I want to have. Don't leave me Vader." A wavering plea filled the air. The small room stank of death, it wafting from everything. The bed, the curtains surrounding it strewn with small holes from moths, paint flaking off the walls, for some animal to eat, as a meager morsel, only to later be killed from the lead filled paint. The small room was in an apartment, not really on a very good side of town.
For that matter, this was about as far from good, as you could get. The hotels were cheap, cheap enough for a deathbed of sorts. The deathbed consisted of a man, who was ragged, and that was putting it nicley. To most people, he could probably have passed as a man, old, even though he wasn't to old, to begin with. Gray hair was strewn about his head, mismatched, and not to long, for it was receding, and falling out. The mans eyes that were once a bright blue, were a dreary gray, worn, and tired from years of hard manual labor. Black bags crept up around his eyes, making them seem smaller, and almost red, from them being so bloodshot. But yet, they held a flickering spark of life in them.
The man let out another cough, sounding like he was practically coughing up a lung. His body had grown frail from sickness, his ribs protruding, his skin seeming tight, but at the same time, loose enough to show the wrinkles, and show the lines from time. Time hadn't been on his side, nor had it erased everything. He was still there, and still fighting, for every breath.
A shaking hand reached for the child, veins showing from the skin, wrapped among the bones, as if that was all that was left of him, bones, and a few meager streaks of muscle and tissue. "Mien liebe, mien kinder." The man said, weezing in a few shaky breaths. "Stay strong for me." He said, his hand slipping from the childs tear streaked cheeks. The man closed his eyes, but his breathing signaled all, that he was alive, at least, for a while longer.
The small child got up from her fathers side, walking out the door, holding a hat tightly in her hands, wringing it nervously. "Will Vader be going with Moder soon?" She asked, fearful of the answer.
Her brother looked didn't look up. He stared at the ground, wondering what to do. He was the only one employed now. With his meager wages, the weekly earnings had barley been enough for this room, and he had no idea what to do. They had no money to use for a doctor, they only had enough for the hotel, and a small amount food.
Trying to be brave for his younger sister, the lad looked up. "Nein. Vader wouldn't leave us. You know that. Moder will make sure he gets better. You'll see. Then we can live happily again, and we can move back to our old apartment." He said smiling at her.
The girl knew he was lying. Of course he was. What brother wouldn't? Frieda already knew. Her father would die, and be gone, just like their mother. Her brother was only lying, to make her feel better. After their Mother had gotten sick, they used all the spare money, to try and save her. But, it was no use. Now, with father sick, only her brother could work. He had to leave his schooling behind, and try and get a job for the money and eventually get paid, only so they wouldn't get separated.
"Frieda, it is nacht. Bed." He said, pointing to the other room. The girl glared, and walked out, stomping her feet. Before getting into bed, she unbraided her dark brown hair, and brushed it, changing into her nacht clothes.
"Goodnight." Her brother said, walking in, and wrapping the blankets around the small girl. He kissed her forehead, and hummed, as she wrapped her small pale arms around her teddy bear, and fell sleep, to his baritone voice.
(I know, this chapter made no sense, whatsoever. But, it will later on. So will the title. Well, its not to much longer, but I hope you liked it, all the same. R & R! )