Week 213: Screaming to a Lost Cause

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Screaming to a Lost Cause
1083 Words



Her sense of time had all but disappeared from her mindset as the young Walker reopened her eyes from what had felt like an eternal slumber. She couldn’t remember a single thing. All that was left was a vague sense of discomfort, and an innate rage building up deep inside of her.

Turning herself around on her bed she wriggled about for a few minutes before deciding it was probably for the best to just get out of bed, and do something less useless. There was no point in dwelling on what had happened, dwelling on that which she couldn’t even remember. She had to move on, and just... live with the fact that she wasn’t the same anymore.

Even if she wasn’t really sure what that was supposed to mean.

Looking at the clock she realized it was well past ten am. It came as a mild shock, because normally she’d wake up at around seven, but for some reason she really couldn’t be bothered too much. As such she dressed herself without much thought, and went downstairs.

Her family was already up and about, and by the looks of it... they had also just finished eating breakfast as well.

"Ah, Nana-chan, good morning!” her mother cheerfully said as she saw her youngest walk through the dining hall’s door.

"Morning,” she replied, yawning somewhat noticeably.

"Had a rough night, dear?” her father asked. He was still sitting at the dining table, and for some reason the young Walker thought it was because he was waiting for her. Sure, he was still reading his newspaper, but something told her he had already finished it.

"You could say that,” she unwittingly snapped as she took a piece of toast and sat down.

"Care to tell us what happened, dear?”

"No.”

She was getting increasingly more tired of this lethargic display. What happened to her was none of their concern. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Alone with her toast, her breakfast. She really, really didn’t feel like being interrogated so early in the morning.

"I insist, dear,” her father pursued, trying to unravel her daughter’s rather down to earth demeanor.

"I insist you leave me alone, and let me finish my breakfast,” she replied, and glanced over at her father. Seeing a raised eyebrow she quickly added, albeit with a slight sneer, "...father.

Like a teapot boiling over, her father exploded in a fury so great Nana wasn’t really sure if this was really her father. She heard his fist slam the table with incredible force as his voice thundered through the room.

"You will not,” he roared, "I repeat, NOT, speak to me like that Amaterasu Nana. You will show respect to your elders, you will respect me, do you hear me? Now tell me what is wrong, or remove yourself from this room this instant, lady!”

He didn’t have to tell her that twice. Taking a quick bite from her toast, she threw it in the trash bin, and walked away – leaving a fallen chair in her wake. In the distance she could hear her father scream like a madman, telling her to get back there this instant, but she ignored his pleas. He had given her the option to leave, and so she took it with both hands.

When she had finally made her way to her safe haven, she was in for an unpleasant surprise. Her brother was waiting for her, and by the looks of it... he wasn’t in a happy mood. In fact, he looked angry.

"Get lost,” she snapped at him.

"No.”

Grabbing his shirt she yelled, "Leave me alone!”

"I will not leave you alone, sis, because how dare you...”

"How... dare I?” she interjected, her face looking mildly surprised. "How... dare I? HOW DARE I!?”

Throwing her brother to the ground she felt her rage almost boiling over. It felt like she could just snap at the whim of something silly at any point.

"Don’t get me started on who dared what!” she continued, flailing her arms like a lunatic. "It’s you guys that dared the living hell out me! I’ve been taking your shit, my father’s shit, for twenty-some-odd-fucking years now! I’m sick of it, you hear me!? Sick, and fucking tired! Yes, that’s right, fuck formality! I’ve been living in your goddamn shadow for too long, being trying to box up against your genius, and my parents’ expectation, for the past fucking twenty years!

"Don’t tell me that I am the one who did something wrong.”

If there was a single word that described her brother’s visage right now, it would be a mix of fear and shock. It was as if he had seen something dreadful, and he wasn’t exactly that far from the truth either. Her sister looked darker, more sinister, and if he wasn’t mistaken... her fingers also looked more eerie and her hair was a darker colour as well.

"...sis...” he meekly said as he tried to get back up his feet. "I didn’t... I never...”

"No! You never think, that’s your problem! You always thought that if you just whatever the fuck you felt like everything would be all right! But... did you ever stop to think what that would mean for me? Me, you own goddamn little sister?” she pressed on, her voice sounding increasingly more desperate. "You never really cared for me, don’t lie to me and say you do! Because I know... I know you’re sour that you are not their legitimate child, that you are but an adopted child! But guess what, they think more of you... than me!”

"That’s... that’s not true, sis!” he tried to say in his meek voice once more.

"Bullshit!” Tears started to run down her cheeks, and her voice started to crackle, as she dropped to her knees. "...and you know it.”

Clasping her head between her hands she started to sob. "Just leave me alone! I never asked for this, I never asked for anything. I just want to live a normal life, without having to fight against these unfair expectations, and judgmental accusations.”

Feeling her head lifted up by her brother’s hands she heard him whisper, "Shhh, it’s okay,â and buried her face in his chest as her sobbing continued. And so they sat there. He was trying to comfort her, as she screamed the world to pieces.

In the distant her mother shed a tear, while her father sighed softly.

Overhead a crow cawed.
 
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Rob

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Dying for a Cause Lost to the Ages

Dying for a Cause Lost to the Ages
1032 Words


Have you ever felt the need, the urge,

to give in to your darkest temptations?

To give in to that...
which you’ve always thought...
was the most evil thing in existence?

To give in to your fears,
To grasp for power,
When you know...
You know all is lost without.
Without purpose.

Without a cause.

We are lost.

In ourselves.

Thanks to ourselves.

Because of ourselves.


Did you ever feel that maybe,
Maybe you were never meant to be?
To live without purpose,
To not have a single meaning...
Associated with your very being.

Your thoughts,
Your emotions,
Your family,
And your friends.
From the bottom of your heart,
Through the spine that holds you in place,
Have you ever stopped to think...
That you were not the chosen one?

That you were condemned?
Condemned to a fate not your own?
Condemned to having to follow a set of rules,
A set of thoughts, of memories...
That have nothing to do with who you are?

Who you want to be?

Who do you want to be?

Even now the words rang hollow through her mind, and though they letters, the strokes of charcoal were there on that very page... they meant nothing. Though her own, they felt like empty promises, questions she could not even answer herself... did not even want to answer herself. They were her thoughts, but that was it... nothing more, nothing less.

As soon as the quill left the parchment, the letters erased themselves... leaving only a blank canvas behind. She stared at the book for a minute or two, covering her thoughts in an attempt to figure out what was going on.

Ever since that awful day, the day her life had taken a complete turnaround, her book had acted oddly. It was as if it was trying to tell her something at times, but at the same time it felt like it was just as confused as she was.

Then, suddenly words written in blood started to appear on the page.

I have felt the urge,
The need, the want...

To give in to my darkest desires,

To the temptations that so caress my skin,
My mind, my thoughts,
And my memories.

It is not that which is evil,

That is truly evil,
But that which is good,
That makes it sound evil.

To accept evil,

The darkness within your heart,
Do you not accept yourself?
Your true nature?
Your thoughts as a whole,
You sense of purpose?

Fear is but an afterthought,

A figment of things not understood.
For it is within your power,
To shake off the fear, and gain strength,
The strength to survive when all is lost.

Because with purpose...


With cause...


We overcome.

Ourselves.

Our fears.


All thanks to ourselves.

If I was not meant to be,
I would not have been.
For it is because of this,
That purpose is born.
To live your life,
The way you want.

Your thoughts,
Your emotions,
Your family,
And your friends.

From the bottom of your heart,

Through the spine that holds you in place,
You should stop thinking, and accept...
That you are not the chosen one.

You are not condemned to a fate not your own,
But to a fated blank slate.
The rules you have, are there to shackle you.
Those thoughts, those memories...
That have nothing to do with who you are,
Do they not need removing?

Who you want to be...

Should not be a question,
But a solution.

You are who you want to be.

You, and me.

We are one,
One and the same.

As soon as she finished reading through it all, the words disappeared. But she knew, she knew that these words... were part of her. They showed her the other side of her, the side that had an answer to every question she had. This was the ‘Nana’ that knew it all, that could grant her every wish. It would grant her powers beyond her wildest dreams, but she didn’t want to give in.

She had to fight it, but she was weak. Too weak perhaps, it had taken her all to subdue the beast within these past few days... and she felt that with every passing day its hunger, its power grew. It was growing beyond what she was capable of suppressing. Like this morning.

She was still distraught over how she had lashed out against her family. She had never wanted to hurt anyone on purpose, but in all of her hatred, her rage... she just snapped, lost herself in the cadence. She had cursed them all to oblivion, to the depths of hell. She had been beyond herself, but the strangest thing was that as fast as her rage had boiled over... as fast as it had subsided again.

It had made place for fear, for an innate sense of sadness. She had felt guilty right then and there, and without so much as a single thought she had burst into tears and had started to mumble incomprehensibly. Even now, thinking back on it, she felt herself getting embarrassed. Her brother had comforted her, her parents had responded apologetic. But still... still she could only care for her own self.

She was disgusting, revolting even.

Clasping her head between her hands once more she placed both elbows on top of her desk and sighed heavily. If only she could undo everything she had done up to now. If only she had never met Haresuno then she would still be fine... all right.

Now you’re just being hurtful, girl...

Once again her mind went blank and was filled in turn only with rage, with madness. A smile appeared on her face and she licked her lips with her tongue as pieces of a mask started to form on her face.

Now give in to yourself, to me!

She was weak, too weak to even resist anymore. She meekly tried to stop the beast within, but the more she struggled... the worse it became.

There was only one way out.
A knife.

Small, but durable.

Its edges sharp,
Its blade deadly.

A finger’s touch,

A hand's clasp.

Arm arisen.

A throat slit.
 
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Rob

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Through the Streams of Time

Through the Streams of Time
1128 Words


She had felt a sense of relief was over her. The moment she had placed the dagger against her throat and pulled it across, she had been smiling all the way through. She had even gone as far as to shed tears of happiness, because she had finally been released from her curse.

Or so she thought... well, she hadn’t been really thinking to begin with now had she?

The last thing she could hear before she could taste the sweet embrace of death was a loud thud, a door opening and screams all over the place. Even during her dying moments, when she was perhaps most happy, it had tore her up... but she knew, she knew it would be better for her to just not be alive anymore.

As a result, it was a big shock - perhaps even the biggest shock she had ever encountered in life -, when she found herself alive and breathing, albeit it with great difficulty. Her eyes were heavy, and wouldn’t really work, but her sense of touch had returned slightly and she could feel a set of hands wrapped around hers.

She wanted to take a look and see who’s hands it was... or were as she wasn’t sure if they were just one set of hands... or multiple. Or maybe her sense of touched was so crooked that she thought she felt hands. She wasn’t sure of a whole lot of things.

She couldn’t really think straight to begin with.

It was like she was having difficulty just staying awake, aware of her surroundings. That reminded her, where was she anyway? If she was alive... that meant she was brought to a... what was it called again?

It was on the tip of her tongue, but...

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a soft squeak. It had been just that, but she knew now that there was definitely someone holding her hand as she suddenly felt a formidable force squashing her hand.

Then her chest started to hurt like crazy, and she felt herself gasping for air.

A scream.
A bestial roar.​

She felt something put over her mouth, and before she knew it she was unconscious once more.

Suddenly the door to the young Walker’s hospital room opened and a young woman entered the door, looking rather distraught.

"How is she holding up?” Emi asked, refreshing the flowers on Nana’s bedside table. Although the question was more directed towards the young girl’s mother, it was in fact one of the medics who answered.

"She’s stable for now, madam, but as we just witnessed... she had still difficulty breathing without outside help.”

"What’d you expect!” Nana’s mother suddenly shouted. "She slit her goddamn throat! Her throat, for god’s sake! Of course she’s going to have trouble breathing!”

Tears.
A soft hand on her shoulder.​

"Don’t worry, Aika-sama,” Emi comforted Nana’s mother, "she’s strong. She’ll make it through, believe in her.”

"But how can I?” Aika sobbed as she buried her face in her hands. "She tried to commit suicide, suicide, Emi! What if she comes out of this all right? Who knows what will happen! What if she tries to...”

"We’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t, right?”

Though she had been semi-unconscious for the most part, Nana had heard the entire conversation. The lashing out, the cries, the pleas. It tore her up inside, it made her sick. What was she thinking? Well, she wasn’t... that much was certain. She wasn’t thinking when she did it, but still she did.

And she wasn’t sure if she’d never do it again if things stayed like they were right now.

"Madam...” one of the medics called out to Aika. "It’s getting late, do you want me to prepare your blanket again?”

Again...?

"Yes, please, thank you,” Nana’s mother replied softly.

If only because of the obvious, Nana deduced that it was getting late. That it was, perhaps, already nighttime. How long had she been out for? How long had her mother been staying at her side? Days? Weeks? Months?

She really couldn’t tell, but in truth... she didn’t want to be able to either. She was still distraught over the fact that she was... well, not dead. She had thought she’d feel sad, but part of here felt it as some sort of relief. It felt relieved that it wasn’t dead yet. Maybe it had been that part of her soul that had kept her from dying?

Or maybe it had something to do with the beast within her.

"My little girl...” her mother suddenly whispered as she held Nana’s hands in hers. "Even while in this state... you’re still... you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Even in this...”

"Madam?”

"Oh right, sorry.” Placing a hand against Nana’s cheek she caressed it for a moment, whispered, "Sleep tight,” and went to bed herself.

Nana wasn’t all that pleased. Even in this what? she kept thinking to herself over and over again. Even in this state, maybe? What’s wrong with me? Well... besides the obvious?

With great difficulty she finally managed to get her eyes opened and, as fate would have it, there was a mirror directly hanging above her bed. She wasn’t really sure why it was there, but it served a perfect purpose right now.

She was a bit hesitant at first. Not just because her eyes had difficulty adjusting to its surroundings, but because she was afraid of what she might see in the mirror. She was afraid of what she might look like.

The most notable thing, when she first looked in the mirror, was a large scar across her neck. It itched even now, but at least it seemed to have healed rather nicely. It was there, but it wasn’t too distracting.

Then she realized what her mother had been talking about.

She was incredibly pale-looking, but above all... her hair was now borderline gray, and if she wasn’t mistaken... her eyes were a piercing blue now – more so than they were before.

Sighing softly, half forgetting she already had great difficulty breathing, she nearly choked and blinked a few times as her eyes became slightly teary.

Beside her she could hear her mother breathing softly. She too wanted to fall back asleep, but found herself unable too. There was too much going on right now for her to even remotely think straight, let alone fall back asleep.

Again she sighed – although this time she made sure not to choke -, and stared at herself in the mirror once more.

It was odd, but if she ever recovered from this, she could see herself getting used to this new look.
 
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Rob

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Forsaken Songs of Forgotten Thoughts

Forsaken Songs of Forgotten Thoughts
1025 Words/4268 Total


Her recovery seemed to go slower than they had originally anticipated. She could, for the most part, breathe normally again... without the need of any outside source, but there were still things she had trouble with. Apparently her nerve-system had received quite the shock, and as such she still had difficulty making her body behave the way she wanted it to.

Especially when she wanted to eat something. Or read a book. Or, well... do something else than just lay there on her bed like a lifeless doll. Okay, truthfully, this was probably the best punishment she could get for being such an idiot. However, all it really did was fuel her hatred.

She was moody these past few days, sharper around the edges. Even her remarks were rather snide lately, but on the whole she wasn’t that much of a bother. Though her vocal-cords were still slightly damaged, she slowly but surely regained the ability to speak once more. The only thing, or things really, that didn’t go back to how they used to be where the more aesthetic changes.

It seemed like her hair was permanently borderline-gray now, though it had now become more of a mix between a silvery-white and a brown colour – reminiscing her previous hair colour, which was auburn. Her skin was still as pale as it was before, but that was the least of her worries. Or, well... she wasn’t exactly the one worrying, but her family and friends were the ones doing the worrying.

However, it seemed that especially Emi liked her new skin colour. Not just because of its pale tint, but also because Nana was now apparently sporting a few freckles here and there – most likely due to the fact that not all of her body’s pigmentation was affected -, and coupled with her piercing blue-eyes... the female assassin thought she looked... cute.

This kind of made her feel odd, albeit in a good way.

She wasn’t very talkative on the whole, though. Part of it came due to her slight inability, but most of it came from an innate sense of wanting to stay silent throughout most of the ordeals. She just simply didn’t feel like conversing with anyone, least of all with the ones closest to her.

Though they were glad, happy even, that she was recovering... she could tell, she could tell that they were angry with her. They were angry because she had tried to kill herself – which made sense - , but also because she had been keeping silent about her worries, her thoughts, her problems.

It was facing the onslaught of those kinds of questions that made the young Walker a selective mute.

"All right, say ‘ah’!” Emi suddenly called, and Nana diverted her attention towards her friend. Though she felt somewhat embarrassed, and slightly annoyed, she opened her mouth and started eating whatever it was she was being served.

"Aww yeah! Aren’t I just the greatest?”

Nana only smiled in half-hearted appreciation as she once again turned away from her visitors.

"Oww, that’s harsh, Nana-chan!”

No response.

Sighing softly, Emi said, "Fine then, stingy!” and got up from her seat and made her way to the door. "I have to get back to my duties anyway. I’ll come by later today, don’t you go anywhere!”

It was just like her to make a stupid joke out of a serious situation.

Hearing the door open behind her she turned herself around – with great difficult – and whimpered, "Emi...” but found her words falling on deaf ears. She wasn’t sure why it hurt her so much. More so because she knew it was because of the way she had been treating her family, her friends that they were acting so distant, but still... it hurt. It hurt so much, it angered her.

No, she needed to control her emotions. Needed to regulate her anger, otherwise... things would end badly again. She didn’t want that, no one wanted that, they didn’t want that. Even if she couldn’t particularly care for it herself, she wanted to at least try and keep it in check for them.

As she glanced around the room, she saw that one of the medics had forgotten its scalpel. With great difficulty she managed to grab a hold of it. So fragile, she thought to herself as she looked at it with glistering eyes. Bringing it closely to her throat, she felt the cold steel touch her skin.

She couldn’t deny that she thought it was a nice feeling. Not just the feeling of cold steel on her skin, but also the feeling of life and death hanging on such a thin, linen thread. Scraping it lightly across her skin she heard a familiar voice echoing through her head.


Well, well, well... aren’t you the consistent little bitch?

Relieving the tension of the scalpel she held in her hand, she closed her eyes.

What do you want?


Oh, nothing... just some gratitude.

For what?

Oh, I don’t know... for saving your fucking life, maybe?

Opening her eyes again, she made a quick, whipping movement with her arm – as far as the pain, and the arm’s disability would let her – and sent the scalpel flying across the room until it finally hit the frame of the door.

"E...excuse me?” a slightly shocked, and frightened nurse suddenly said. "I was... I... uhm, okay.” Breathing in a fair amount of oxygen she stepped through the open door, and started to do some cleaning around her room.

"I’m sorry,” Nana snapped as she closed her eyes again. She didn’t even bother trying to look at whoever it was she had almost hit.

Whoever told you to fucking save me, huh? Ever thought about that?


Tsk, tsk, so hostile. What happened to your good manners, girl?

You happened, now fuck off.

Ooohhhh, stingy aren’t we? Well, all right then little missy, the voice cackled through her head, and, though she knew it wouldn’t do jack, she put her pillow on top of her head in an attempt to cancel out her thoughts.

Enjoy this little break, girl. We’ll be meeting again soon...

Very soon.
 
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