Chapter 1: Do you want one?
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It was the same as it had always been. Same cream color ceiling, same fusia colored sheets. Yet something was diffrent. It felt empty and hollow. Dispite the light green walls that her mother had worked on all weekend while she had been at bible camp, the room felt dark and damp, and very depressing. Her mom had told her, "It's because a growing girl needs her space. You can't share a room with your sister anymore. You thirthteen now. You have to have your own room."
Ryou had protested greatly. She didn't want to be alone in a room all night by herself. It would make her feel alone and unwanted. Like no one needed her anymore. She asked, "Then why do the boys have to share rooms?"
"There are too many boys for them all to have their own room." her mom replyed turning away from her eldest daughter. "now I don't want to hear another word about it! Now go make your room feel like just that, your room. Not your sister's or your brothers' but yours. Shoo, go, scram!" her mom made the shooing motion with her hand. She turned back to her beer that was held in a dark green cozey and took a chug. Ryou had walked to her room feeling sadly degected and inimportant dispite all the work her mom had done in three days too turn the storage room into a bedroom for her.
Sitting up in the bed she looked around. The walls were the same light green with the fancy accentce on the edges of the wall where the celling slanted to meet the wall. A poster that had thirteen dogs in sneakers hung above her bed. There was a small desk with and a lamp on the very edge of the desk almost begging to be knocked over. The dresser was a light yellow wood with four drawers and all her clothes stuffed into one drawer. A futon finished the room. There was no T.V. no computer.
Empty, almost compleatly. Nothing in the room made it feel like hers. Nothing.
A knock at the door shock her from her musings. Looking to the alarm clock that was seated on the nightstand she had put in her room, it said it was noon thirty.
Squinting her eyes too make sure the time was right and her eyes wern't playing tricks on her, she was it was indeed noon thirty.
Groaning she rolled out of bed, her shirt riding half way up her back and her shorts giving her an uncomfortable wedgy. Adgusting her shirt and shorts, Ryou walked to the door and unlocked it.
Standing outside the door stood her youngest brother, Bakura. He was fourteen at the time, and like Ryou, went to bible camp the weekend their mom had decided Ryou having her own room would be best for her.
Bakura stood outside her door, his long white hair cascading down his back, shirtless and in gym shorts slightly slouched over. Bakura alway said he wasn't slouching, but he had sway back.
"Ya gunna come down for breakfast or what?" his gruff voice sounded. His voice wasn't normally like that. Either he hadn't gotten a good nights sleep or he was sick. Another part of her mind said, "Maybe his balls finally dropped." But that wasn't important, what was important was the bruise on his check that he was trying to cover with his hair.
"What happened?" Ryou took her brother's face into her hand. He may not have been the brother she was closest too but that didn't mean she didn't worry about him. That would just be mean and rude.
"Nothin'" he scoffed pulling his face away from his sister's cold hands. He didn't want her to worry. He never wanted her to worry. He was the big brother and it was his job to protect her from every kind of danger. Even if ignorance was the only way to do so.
Looking to her feet she saw that the carpet outside of the door was shaggier than the carpet in her room.
"You comin' or what?" sounded Bakura's voice from down the stairs. Ryou hadn't relized he had moved.
Turning the corner she was him standing at the base of the stairs. Light shining through the front door showed that the sun was shinning and maybe they would get to go to the pool today, if her mom and Seto permitted it.
Seto was her step dad. They had all moved from Tokyo to Domino so her mom could marry him. The kids really didn't get it and Ryou was only seven at the time so she didn't understand most things at the time.
Running down the stairs, almost trippin g if it weren't for the hand rail, she landed on the landing turning the corner to the kid's living room.
The house had two living rooms. One for the kids, and one for the adults. The kids had a small T.V. in it mounted on a small entertainment stand with a Nintendo 64 sitting next to it. Under the Nintendo sat a drawer with the games and a few extra controlers in it. A few feet back sat a three cousheded caramel colored couch with a matching love seat sitting infront of the window at a right angle from the other couch. A fish tank on a shelf was behind the big couch with a computer desk, complete with computer, printer, and computer lamp sat next to that. To finish the room was a little plastic child's picknic table set and fake wood walls.
All in all it looked like any regular childrens play room in Ryou's eyes. She didn 't realize that most houses didn't have two living rooms compleat with an apartment behind the house. She had always living in big houses as long as she could remember.
Walking through the dining room, which consisted of a door to the bathroom, china hut, table, and sliding glass door leading to the back yard where the children's play set was set up, she reached the kitchen.
The table tops were some weird colors jumbled together in weird combinations. Wood cabnits hung all over the kitchen. The appliances were black Maytags. The island, which was conected to the wall instead of sitting in the middle of the kitchen, had food covering it.
As all the kids filed into the kitchen for breakfast, minus maybe two kids, they grabbed a plate that was set out and migrated into the dining room. Malik sat down first, then Bakura, Ryou, then the baby of the family, Amane.
There was originally six but the oldest and second youngest were yet to be seen.
Malik, the second born. His hair was long and very blond. He was seventeen and very gay. You could tell just by looking at him. He had a baby face and the way he talked and walked just screamed it at you. He was Ryou's favriote sibiling. He was the closest thing Ryou had ever had to a big sister. Malik had taught her how to put on make-up and pull her hair up into a ponytail.
Bakura, the fourth born. The youngest of the boys but still not the youngest child. He was currently enrolled in alternitive school, for reasons unknown to Ryou and Amane. He had really bad anger issues due to being bi-polar and schizophrenic. He was also the only child that had the same father and mother as Ryou.
Ryou, the fifth born. The first girl born. She curently only had two friends and was suffering from depression. Well atleast she though she had depression. She had never had it dignosed but was pretty certain that she had it, along with a small touch of schizophrenia.
Amane was the last born and the youngest girl. She was eleven and had the entire comunity wrapped around her finger. It was rumored that she might have autisum but it hadn't been diagnosed yet.
The two missing children were more than likly still sleeping.
Finishing her breakfast, Ryou headed back to her room and was about to sit down when a knock sounded.
Sighing to herself she awnsered the door. Behind it stood Bakura, again.
"What?" she sighed.
"Can't a borther hang out with his little sister?" he asked holding his arms out to the side in a questioning questioning.
Sighing Ryou opened the door and alowed her brother to enter the room. Her room.
Whiseling low in his throat, Bakura looked over the room. Shaking his head, Ryou figured that ment he didn't aprove. In truth, neither did she but she would never tell anyone that. She had to be her mom's strong, perfect little soldier.
"Open the window." Bakura ordered pointing to the window that was next to her bed. Rushing over she opened the window all the way.
"Got any bottles?" Bakura sked looking around the room, "Op, nevermind! Found one!" he grabbed and empty pop bottle off the futon.
"Why do you need a pop bottle and the window open?" she asked.
Pulling a rectagular box out of his pocket Bakura threw it at her. "Those are called cigarettes. Mom smokes them all the time. Unless you want the house lit on fire, I need something to ash in. Namely a bottle. And unless you want a nasty smell lingering in the room you open the window." Bakura told her. He took one out of the pack.
It looked small and like a clyinder. It gad a white length and an orange tip with little yellow dots specking it.
Bakura put it too his lips and took a lighter out of his pocket and light it. A little trail of smoke rose from the light end and it glowed a bright red at the end for a second before Bakura took it away from his lips to take in a breath then exhail it in a whiteish graish cloud.
Extending the pack towards his sister he looked her dead in the face, "Do you want one?"
