Hello again, y'all! since i'm "sick" today, [;)] I should have a lot of time for writing. Enjoy this next chapter!
Chapter 9: Fuck You
I jump up from the bed, throwing the covers across the room. I land on the hardwood floor, landing with a thump that shakes the room.
"FUCK YOU!" I scream, tilting my head upwards towards the ceiling. If God really is up there, he'll want to hear this.
"FUCK YOU, YOU SICK BASTARD!" I feel dog-crazy, like I want to bite someone. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm foaming at the mouth. I punch the wall and it feels good. I punch it again and again and when I stop, my knuckles are bright red. I don't realize I'm crying until I see my tears fall on my cracked, bleeding hands.
I sniffle and wipe the tears away, but I'm pretty sure all I'm doing is smearing blood across my face. You know what? I'm just gonna stay like this. I'm sick and tired of this... This game I play with myself. I go along, pretending like everything's okay and wonderful, then BAM! I can't take it any longer! And I keep hiding my feelings, keep caging myself, and I'm sick of it. Someone needs to see this. Someone needs to stop me before I go insane.
I pace the room, feeling trapped and helpless. On one of the shelves, I glimpse a clay turtle I must have made when I was six. It's sitting next to the one Hikaru made. For some reason this makes me angry. I pick up my turtle and fling it against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces.
I stare at it for a second, then feel awful. What the hell did I just do? I just destroyed something that held so many memories without a moment's hesitation.
I hit the wall again. I fucking hate my life. I keep pacing the room, my bare feet pounding the floorboards rhythmically. This sucks. Ha, that's the understatement of the century. This is the worst situation I could ever be in. I wonder if I'm crazy. I certainly feel crazy. I feel like I've loved and I've lost, even though I've done neither. I've never expressed my love for Hikaru, and he's still here. Just not for me.
Am I depressed? What are the stages? Like, denial, anger, greif... Wait, aren't those the stages of greif? Argh, I don't even know. They're the stages of something.
I hate this. I hate myself, I hate my life, I hate Haruhi, I hate Hikaru. Why doesn't he see? Why doesn't he question me? Does he not even care? Or is he just so wrapped up in Haruhi that he doesn't even notice me anymore? If that's the case, I hate him more. Fuck you, Hikaru.
Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck you.
I clutch my head and lean against the wall. It feels like I've been pacing for hours. Maybe I have been. What time is it? I slide down the wall and sit on the floor, putting my head in my hands.
I need to get the hell out of here. I have to. I have to. I have-
"Hello?" I hear. Hikaru's voice. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. He's home from school already? How long have I been in this room? How long have I been raging and pacing? How long have I thought that I hated myself? This can't be healthy.
Focus. Focus on cleaning up. I hear footsteps up the stairs and gather up the shattered pieces of the clay turtle. I run into the bathroom and deposit them in the garbage can, then clean myself up as best I can.
The handle's turning. I sprint out of the bathroom and flop onto the bed, covering my head with a pillow just as Hikaru walks in the door.
"Kaoru?" He sits on the bed. "You feeling a bit better?"
A suppress the urge to sigh in relief. He didn't see. He doesn't know. And that's the way it should stay.
I sit up. "Yeah, I'm better."
Hikaru visibly sighs in relief and hugs me. I'm startled, and a bit guilty for saying I hated him. But I don't. I fuckin' love the bastard. I close my eyes and will myself to melt into him. I never want this moment to end.
He does care.
He pulls away. "You've been acting so weird lately." He says. "I'm glad you're better."
I smile. "Me too."