Title: The Forsworn ~ Phantom
Author: Sita Seraph
Warning: Suicide, angst, depression
Summary: None yet.
Archive: Go right ahead. Please e-mail me so I know where you are going to throw it, okay?
Note: This story's title is now called Forsworn, with the chapter title coming next. Just so you aren't confused
In my hole, you can't find me.
In my prison, you can't break me.
In my mind, you don't know me.
In my heart, you can't love me.
Falling. Deeper and deeper. Its almost like I'm floating downwards, in the dark abyss of blackened water. The air currents keep caressing me with gentle laps, with soft touches over my bare skin. I can feel my hair weaving loose behind me, tugging back with the air and slowing my descent towards the endless hole. Always falling, there is no end. It was always so dark. So dark since I saw the red. My blood was such a pretty color as it fell against the white. I still saw the red when I closed my eyes.
Oh, God, its so dark.
I don't know where I am. I can't feel anything in my body. Its like my fingertips have gone numb. I can't feel the wounds on my wrist though I know they are there. I know how deep they are. I know how long they slash up my arm. But I can't feel the pain. I can't feel the blood on my fingers. Maybe in this black liquid hole I'm in, I'm leaving behind a bloody trail. It'll hover in the air as I float by, twirling in little beads of red like space. And just like space, they'll freeze over with silver white. If you touched them now, they would shatter into tiny pieces and become invisible in the ebony hole. It was kind of a cool thought, you know. Leaving behind a bloody trail of crimson behind, so if I lost my way in this dark mist, I'd just follow my own ruby pearls. I'm really comfortable here. I know I'm relaxed as I fall deeper and deeper. I'm calm, I'm not afraid. I like it here. It's quiet and peaceful. No one can come here. It's just the blackness and me. I'm safe and comforted, hidden from prying eyes. Hidden from feelings, like love. I remember when I fell in love with your stance, how you would cross your arms and look off, so deep in thought and never paying any attention to the world around you. Yet, you were alert at the same time, you were aware of my presence as I watched you. You were aware of the war. But you never showed it. That face, that beautiful face, never showed anything. Those eyes would stare off in the distance; passive and deep like the universe. We knew nothing; I knew nothing about you. I remember your mysterious aura, how you pulled me into your web. I was immediately lost but I wanted to stay lost. I couldn't figure you out, you wouldn't let anyone in Until
You told me a bit about your past then. About the pain you went through. How some people just wouldn't listen. How you had trained your heart out to shove away any weaknesses. You refused to go through that pain again, didn't you? You refused to let anyone go through what you had to. So you fought every damn day and your weaknesses were never visible. I never saw them. You never let me. But were you really just a trembling boy inside? Were you just like me calling for help but no one heard? If you were, I tried to find you but you locked me out again.
I fell in love with your voice. How you would talk so softly, so gently, so different from my loud booming voice. It was so mellow, so beautiful. Your accent just rolled off your tongue and I would quiver inside from your tone. God, I couldn't get enough of it. It was like a lovesick potion, I had drunk too much. I was stumbling around to make you laugh, to hear you say something to me. And whenever you did, I would beam with pleasure afterwards. I loved to hear you speak, even if the most you said was `baka'. I fell in love with that word as well.
I fell in love with your body. Your dark skin taunted me day and night; I wanted to compare my hands with yours. I wanted to taste you; I wanted to know what flavor your body made. Oh, the trembling in the knees I would get at the thought of just touching you. You were like a distant goal, very far away. Your strong muscles kept reliving themselves in my mind. Whenever I would hear you groan, I wish I made that happen. I fully admit it; I fantasized about making love to you. I would worship your body over and over again, loving the trembling flesh under my wanton mouth. I dreamt of your lower regions. Ah, hell, lets say it, I dreamt of your cock. I dreamt of it inside me; I quiver at the thought of the full completion in that move, how I wanted to be part of you forever. I even imagined it in my mouth. Ah, shit, I wanted you so bad.
I remember the pain though, even though I can't feel it. All those bullets that imprinted themselves in my body. All those dagger slashes that left a scar to indicate `I was here.' I remember the inside pain, the rejection. That left a scar on my heart. But now that heart was in shards, floating around in my body like a broken ship. Waves of blood distorted the pieces of the puzzle, leaving no trace of its departure. Chunks would run ashore like pieces of wood in the sea then are carried away again with a hopeless sigh of the red wave. Yeah, you can say you did a nice job on concealing any evidence of your crime when you took that shaft and shoved it in my chest. You did a nice job of putting needles in my eyes so when I cried, I would forever remember the humiliations I put you through, the needles stabbing my cheeks. And I would remember the final move, the knife digging into my skin as I dragged the razor up, ending my life.
Do you feel bad now? Are you sorry for what you did? Is it your turn to want to scream and scream and scream while tearing your hair out? Of course not. Not you. Never you. No regrets, remember? Such a pitiful thing as me wouldn't take you down. You would acknowledge my death, nod your head in pity, and then move on. I would be a faint memory in a couple of months. You wouldn't remember the sound of my voice quite exactly. You wouldn't remember the moments we had with the same emotion. And most of all, you would barely remember that night when you shoved me away. It would be some faint recording in the back of your head, the anger you had not quite the same, my lips not as shocking as it was. That had to be a good thing. But not for me. I would always replay those memories with such clear vision, that they would appear as if a video on DVD. The betrayal, the rage, the rejection had cut me deep. Far deeper then any sword or bullet wound could. It almost seemed as it had cut me in half from the neck down. I could no longer move but relive those moments over and over again.
I was feeling pain again. I hated it, I hate you. Shut up. Hush. Don't want to hear it. I'm not listening to you anymore. I can't hear your voice, your cries of battle. I don't want to hear them. Get away from me. I don't care what you have to say. Shut up. Quiet. Can't you hear me? I said shut up!
But you wont go away. Your voice, your body, your touches still lingers like a burning coal in my mind. It hurts to think about you but I can't think of anything else but your hair, your eyes, your voice, everything I had loved it's like a broken record, over and over again. My mind is cracking now, I can feel that. My heart wasn't the last thing to depart. I was probably slowly going insane, this peaceful hole something I created when real hell was licking at my face.
I know I wasn't such the greatest boy, but was this real hell? To be forever tortured for sins you had committed in your life? To forever drift in this sinister hole while thinking about how much you fucked up? I was never afraid of death but if I knew that this was awaiting me on the other side well, goddamn, I would have chosen to live in agony rather than this. I couldn't stand hearing you anymore. I couldn't stand seeing you anymore. At least, years and years afterwards, I could get over it. I would be able to stand the rejection with steadier legs. But I had to endure this. You were like a phantom haunting my mind, slowly bashing my brain into pieces with the shaft that you stabbed in my heart. I can't fight you forever; you are going to win eventually. That will be your greatest triumph, wouldn't it? Breaking me to a twitching form of limbs. Years from now, after you had shattered my mind into dust, my body would decay. My eyes would have fallen out and leave empty black sockets in their place. My mouth would forever hang open, damning you and my love in silence. Rotten flesh would trail my nude body. Some places would be blue and brown, like a bruise, but on closer inspection, it would be just the mold growing on my bones. Dried and shriveled flesh would flap weakly with the air on legs and upper body, peeling away to show the dried underings. Holes would be around my body like gunshots, but they would expose the healthy bone and hallow insides. My flesh would be paler then white. And my hair. Oh, my only prized possession. It would be there no longer, but a few strands on a naked white skull of a boy that died long ago. A hideous sight
But that's all I could think about. Nothing but you and my second death and the way you finally wore out my mental abilities that I still had left. Then you would kill my body and rip away my hair. Damnit. If I could feel sick, I would have puked a long time ago.
Do you miss me? I miss you. I wish we could have had something. I wish so badly. I don't want to be here. I wanted to die, not be tortured for loving you. I thought my death would be the best thing, for the both of us. But God hated me. He really did. So he was striking me over and over again
I think my mind is cracking more.
None of you ever knew me. None of you. You didn't know what I really thought. You didn't know what I really felt. I wouldn't ever let you. Don't ask me why, its too late. I just never let anyone in, I guess. I didn't want you to know me. We had such depressing people as it was, why have another? So I hid everything from you. And all of you were fooled. You never guessed, did you? You never thought how much I enjoyed killing those OZ soldiers. You never imagined how many times I wanted to punch some of you and drop the façade. You never knew how much I was dying inside. The guilt, the anger, the depression was ganging up and beating me blow after blow. But you never saw, did you? God, who knew I could be such a great actor?
But you know I would have changed all that for you. I would have been happy and cheerful with you. All those feelings that were bubbling out of the cauldron would be gone within a flash if I had you. Then I would be Duo Maxwell, the doll all of you knew. I would become that doll and the person I really was would disappear. But you didn't like my little doll, did you? Would you have liked the other me? Hm? It was a question to ponder upon. Did you not want a happy person? Did you want a broken man? I could have given you that. But its too late isn't it? That's depressing. Now I was just some sort of ghost. My shell, my body, was gone, probably rotting underneath the ground. And I was tortured here, thinking nothing else but you.