A single grain can tip the scale
Amidst the burden the scale will prevail
Showing what's worth being here
Storyteller by a hearth of stone
A white little creature purring me
My childhood kingdom gone in time
The islands filling my mind with blue
The one in special, heaven's court
All the joy unforgiven by this task
An errant soul, homeless and foul
All gone but the will to
Live to tell the tale
The days are filled with anxiety
Frustration, one right note a day
Where to find a perfect tune
Just do the work and take a step back
All the joy unforgiven by this task
An errant soul, homeless and foul
All gone but the will to
Live to tell the tale
Dark chambers of my mind
Locked around the neck of my love
None of you understand
And it doesn't matter
To a broken marionette like me (me)
An errant soul, homeless and foul
An errant soul, homeless and foul
All gone but the will to
Live to tell the, to tell the tale
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The top two buttons were put through the wrong loops, causing an annoying bump to appear on his tie. There was a slight mist on his top lip, and sweat beaded on the edge of his hair line; he swallowed, fiddling with the papers in his hand as he stared down at the inmate, eyes blank as a slate. He shifted from one foot to the other, gulping down some spit that rested heavily in his mouth. "Good morning." He said, false cheer coating his voice like candy.
Those eyes didn't waver in the slightest. The cop cleared his throat and sat down to be level with the other occupant. Why they gave him the job of interrogating a child was beyond him. "My name is Touta Matsuda and I-I'm gonna ask you a few questions before the psychologist comes in to evaluate you, um, okay?"
The silence was heavy, pressing down upon Matsuda like water. The heat was becoming horrid, sucking every inch of his skin and still, those eyes wouldn't move.
"Mr. Matsuda-san," The voice came from the boy's mouth; it was hollow, monotone. "Is this the first time you ever had to kneel to be eye level with a killer?" A small amused smile came to the boy's mouth. His eyes remained dead.
Matsuda felt his hands beginning to shake, but he dug his nails into his palms to stop. This was only a kid; there wasn't any reason to get so worked up about a simple question.
He forced a smile, feeling its fakeness as his lips twitched . "Yes actually..." The boy made a small noise in his throat; it was almost...triumphant in a way, or maybe Matsuda was reading too much into it. He glanced down at the papers, dark brown eyes zoomed across the page before he lifted them to the boy. "Your...foster parents; they were found with multiple stab wounds and a single shot to the head. Point blank range, executioner style." Matsuda took a deep breath and continued. "Um, the youngest child, this one their natural child, was found in the attic. She was strangled and also stabbed. Her lips were cut from the corner to the ear."
The boy sat back in his chair; one of his hand (both wrists were bound together by handcuffs) came up, and a finger curled around a snowy strand. He closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply before he let out a dream-like sigh. "Karen and Robert...they loved to show off the prize they had plucked from an orphanage. At dinner parties, they would call me in; 'Nate,' they would say (even though I constantly reminded them my name is Near), 'Show the nice people how smart you are!'"
"I danced, like a peddler's monkey. Jumping through any hoop, never once defying them in fear of I would be tossed out." The boy, Near, tugged harshly at his hair. The tape recorder on the table clicked once, and he continued.
"They had two older foster children before me; bother were smart, already in college by the time they were fifteen. They didn't come see mummy and daddy dearest often." He gave a small humorless laugh. "But, they had one daughter, about a year younger than me. Her name was Rebecca, and she was...always...smiling..."
Matsuda mentally flinched at the boy's expression. It was a mixture between dully blank and dream-like fondness. "What-What caused you to...snap?" He asked softly.
The boy was quiet for a moment, staring blindly across the room. "Wouldn't you...if every time someone said 'Jump' you would have to ask, 'How high'? I wasn't anything to be loved; it was my brain that they loved, not me. While I festered away, surrounded by only my toys, she would be showered with adoration."
Matsuda blinked, the sound of the tape recorder clicking being the only sound in the room. "So you were jealous?"
Near smirked, untwisting his fingers from his hair. "No, not at all. I was bored, and having the excuse of jealousy...well, it'll be an interesting trial."
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I wrote this yesterday during class. I hope you like crazy!Near. I've had this idea stored in my brain for awhile, but anyway; Please Review!
The song is by Nightwish, Sarah suggested it. :D
