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An honest smile
folder
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
809
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
809
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
An honest smile
Warning: I would highly recommend everyone who has some experience with selfhurting behaviour (means all of us nice little cutters out there ^^*) not to read this ficlet, after all it could work as a trigger, which is not what I want it to be *duh*
Disclaimer: Well...unfortunately none of the Yu-Gi-Oh!-characters is mine *sigh* and I don’t get paid for this either *double-sigh*
But I like playing with them (especially with Bakura and Yami-Bakura) *evil grin*
Bakura = Yami no Bakura
Ryou = Bakura Ryou
Understood? *gg*
(a little notice: English’s not my mothertongue so I beg your pardon regarding mistakes ^^*)
An honest smile
Slowly it clears a way, leaves a beautiful, shiny trace on my arm. It drips on the sheet and spreads there in a small mark. That makes me smile a bit, the red on white, a theme that begins on my pale skin and continues on the pure sheet.
I follow the red trace on my arm with the tongue and taste the sweet life, which runs through my veins.
Why isn‘t life really as sweet as the promising blood?
I watch the blood, seeping again from the wound, collecting itself, until it leaves a trace on my arm and drips on the white sheet again. The blood fascinates me, keeps me enthralled with its beauty.
But then it runs dry, the blood stops to flow. I set the blade again, pull it over my arm with a slight smile on my lips.
It pains, when the razor-blade cuts my skin, but I feel so alive...everytime I feel the pain and watch the blood running down my arm, I sense, that I’m alive.
All of them believe that I’m happy. I mastered playing this act so well. My friends don‘t notice it, my mask of happiness is almost perfect. Not even Bakura knows.
Probably it wouldn‘t interest him. He would just consider me to be weaker than he already does. And that’s what I am...weak... I’m ashamed of doing such a thing, but also, I’m not strong enough to stop. Also don’t want to...how would I know that I’m alive otherwise?
I need it, I need the physical pain, the wounds, the blood...need all of this in order to forget the wounds of my soul, to break through the internal pain, which seems to make everything grey and pointless.
Am I contradictory? Am I pathetic?
Bakura would confirm this, with a gloating grin.
Doesn’t he notice, that I only want to be held by him? That I want him to take me from this darkness that lingers inside of me?
But I forgot...he wouldn’t care, even if he knew...
A new cut...more blood is flowing, the cut is deeper. I watch my hand cutting my skin again, but don‘t move it, not consciously. As if another person is controlling my body.
The room gets darker, but isn’t it always slightly darker, when Bakura’s not here?
A further cut, slowly my surroundings blur, it’s getting difficult to see clearly, but I don’t stop, can’t stop. A flash, a further , deeper , wound, from which the life is pouring out.
Why do I do this? Nevertheless, I only want to be happy... just want to be like the mask I wear: happy.
I want to wrap my arms around Bakura and kiss him. What am I thinking again? He would just hit me for doing such a thing...again it makes me smile a bit.
It’s slowly getting darker. I feel how the life escapes from my body.
I’m not in my body any longer. It’s like I’m already far away.
But suddenly, as from a far distance, I feel warm arms around my nearly liveless body, hot tears on my cheek, which are not my own.
And I hear a voice, whispering my name „Ryou...“.... or does it cry out loud?...I don’t know... everything’s so far away....far far away...
But with my last breath, I understand... I understand that he does care for me. My life ends with an honest smile and the thought of the one, who was most precious to me...the one who was next to me and nevertheless furthest away...my Bakura.
Disclaimer: Well...unfortunately none of the Yu-Gi-Oh!-characters is mine *sigh* and I don’t get paid for this either *double-sigh*
But I like playing with them (especially with Bakura and Yami-Bakura) *evil grin*
Bakura = Yami no Bakura
Ryou = Bakura Ryou
Understood? *gg*
(a little notice: English’s not my mothertongue so I beg your pardon regarding mistakes ^^*)
An honest smile
Slowly it clears a way, leaves a beautiful, shiny trace on my arm. It drips on the sheet and spreads there in a small mark. That makes me smile a bit, the red on white, a theme that begins on my pale skin and continues on the pure sheet.
I follow the red trace on my arm with the tongue and taste the sweet life, which runs through my veins.
Why isn‘t life really as sweet as the promising blood?
I watch the blood, seeping again from the wound, collecting itself, until it leaves a trace on my arm and drips on the white sheet again. The blood fascinates me, keeps me enthralled with its beauty.
But then it runs dry, the blood stops to flow. I set the blade again, pull it over my arm with a slight smile on my lips.
It pains, when the razor-blade cuts my skin, but I feel so alive...everytime I feel the pain and watch the blood running down my arm, I sense, that I’m alive.
All of them believe that I’m happy. I mastered playing this act so well. My friends don‘t notice it, my mask of happiness is almost perfect. Not even Bakura knows.
Probably it wouldn‘t interest him. He would just consider me to be weaker than he already does. And that’s what I am...weak... I’m ashamed of doing such a thing, but also, I’m not strong enough to stop. Also don’t want to...how would I know that I’m alive otherwise?
I need it, I need the physical pain, the wounds, the blood...need all of this in order to forget the wounds of my soul, to break through the internal pain, which seems to make everything grey and pointless.
Am I contradictory? Am I pathetic?
Bakura would confirm this, with a gloating grin.
Doesn’t he notice, that I only want to be held by him? That I want him to take me from this darkness that lingers inside of me?
But I forgot...he wouldn’t care, even if he knew...
A new cut...more blood is flowing, the cut is deeper. I watch my hand cutting my skin again, but don‘t move it, not consciously. As if another person is controlling my body.
The room gets darker, but isn’t it always slightly darker, when Bakura’s not here?
A further cut, slowly my surroundings blur, it’s getting difficult to see clearly, but I don’t stop, can’t stop. A flash, a further , deeper , wound, from which the life is pouring out.
Why do I do this? Nevertheless, I only want to be happy... just want to be like the mask I wear: happy.
I want to wrap my arms around Bakura and kiss him. What am I thinking again? He would just hit me for doing such a thing...again it makes me smile a bit.
It’s slowly getting darker. I feel how the life escapes from my body.
I’m not in my body any longer. It’s like I’m already far away.
But suddenly, as from a far distance, I feel warm arms around my nearly liveless body, hot tears on my cheek, which are not my own.
And I hear a voice, whispering my name „Ryou...“.... or does it cry out loud?...I don’t know... everything’s so far away....far far away...
But with my last breath, I understand... I understand that he does care for me. My life ends with an honest smile and the thought of the one, who was most precious to me...the one who was next to me and nevertheless furthest away...my Bakura.