Broken: Part Five “

Broken: Part Five “Extrication”

By: Hikari

5/1/00

Notes: Arigato gozaimasu Rose-san for e-mailing to me. Turns-out that there aren’t too many problems (or any at all) ^^(). Gomen nasai for the confusion.

All disclaimers apply.

*****

The warm water streams out of the faucet, diluting my blood into a hue of pink. I hiss a little at the pain, but it had to be done. I’m still alive, my wound proves it. This act didn’t help much in confirming my sanity, however. For when the red had spilled upon the carpet as it had one day previous- it didn’t stain it. Well, it did- but it didn’t stay. I’m not sure as to what to think. Either this is undeniably happening, or I’ve lost all connection to reality. I don’t understand this… what will become of me?

I turn the taps tightly, and was about to wipe the mirror clean- when I realized that the fog would disappear on its own quickly. VERY quickly. I groan, and open the medicine cabinet for some aspirin. From what I’ve learned, chances are the aspirin will go back to its bottle. Popping the cap, I take three pills and set them side by side. Filling a cup with water, I swallow one of the medicine- and feel it sink to the bottom of my stomach. Glancing at the countertop, I wished I was wrong. The third pill was back with the set. I don’t know why, but part of me feels like laughing- no matter what I do, everything will remain unscathed. I can walk around the earth, taking my anger out on whatever is blocking my way. There would be nothing to worry about. No harm would be inflicted. I can destroy, and leave havoc without causing any tears. I won’t be able to kill.

Smiling a little- I experiment with this phenomenon by pressing my palm to the mirror. No sooner had I done this, my imprint instantly disappears. My smile fades.

Then again, I wonder if I can stand touching and leaving no mark. No mark. If I kissed my sister… would she feel it? How can it be that something that leaves no evidence of being, give off heat or emotion? It’s impossible… isn’t it? That question alone tries the fact that I can still bleed- that I can feel.

The sound of keys jingle from outside. Did that much time pass? Kurama is already back home from school. It probably took hours before my skin ultimately ripped.

I need to show him this… what will he make out of it? If he doesn’t witness what I’ve been seeing, I MUST be insane. Footfalls hasten directly to this room- I can see his shadow from underneath the rift. The door knob rattles, and then swings open casually.

“Kurama…”

He walks through, humming some foreign tune- smile painted on his face. Hn. Probably aced an exam or something. “Kurama…”

Pulling a drawer open, Kurama begins to brush his tossled hair briskly. Later, he cleans his teeth, and washes his face. I, in the meantime, wait patiently. It’s a bit foreboding that he didn’t speak a word to me this morning or when he returned. Normally, he would either greet or offer one of those sugary grins that frequently annoyed me. Now… I deduce, from all those years of Shuiichi moral, I genuinely miss the ritual- even though it’s only been half a day. He smiles to himself once more, throwing the brush and toothpaste tube into a cabinet. I don’t believe it, even when he’s grooming he’s exultant. Kurama is so easy to please… so easy to content… if only I were like that…

Spinning around, my friend reaches for the towel. I move slightly to the side for him to reach it… when his hand went straight through my abdomen and out again- cloth in tow. I suddenly feel my insides twist, and blood starts to fountain out of my mouth as chills rivet me. Hands quickly bowl under my chin, collecting the blood into a pond.

“Help…” My voice emerges raspy and scarlet spurts out, raining on the white wall. Kurama notices nothing, and leaves the bathroom, still humming his cheerful song. There was so much blood, so I wound up inhaling it. As a result, I coughed even more- tears burning trails because of exhaustion. It wouldn’t stop. I just kept bleeding, to the point that it overflowed and splattered on my clothes and onto the carpeting.

******

When the bleeding finally ceased, I find myself curled into a tight ball on the floor. Looking up- vision focusing- there was no trace of blood what-so-ever. Not on the wall, not on the carpet, not even on my hands. Nevertheless, the experience was excruciating. I can’t think of one event that I’ve endured physically that was more painful than this. My whole torso felt like it was in a vice, only worse. In addition, my throat seemed as though it were on fire! The flames I wield are simply sparks compared to the supposed burns in my lungs.

I stand, and stagger out- perturbed. Gripping for the pane of the entrance, I lean on it fatiguely. Kurama is in the living room, reading a book on the sofa. He can’t see me. No one can. It’s not necessary to conduct any analysis to assume such an idea. I’ve got all the verification I can put-up with.

My lips are quivering, and I know why… I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want confess it. I never will. Unfortunately, my conscious won’t silence. The voice rings over and over again- jadedly in my head. You’re afraid. You’re scared. You’re now truly all alone. Your wish has been granted. The world is going on without you- and you get to see it… for the rest of your life. Eyes broaden, and cool perspiration drips down my back. I shudder at my fate.

Abruptly, I stop myself. The grasp on the pane vehemently braces, worn nails splintering the wood. NO. I won’t despair. I have taught myself to be strong… there should be no reason why I can’t cope. I’m going to find out why this happened. HOW this happened. If I need to break all barriers… I will.

My attention goes back to Kurama. He fell asleep, book on lap. If anything, he didn’t get enough rest last night. He was late this morning, and acing a test at so early a time burned-out his human body- that and well, getting gray hairs about my well-being. At least he won’t have to anymore. Walking to him, I remove the book and place it on the other end of the sofa. Taking the quilt from the back-support, I cover him. I know whether I do this or not won’t make a difference… but he would- without hesitation- do the same for me. Hn… the best kind of friend, was also the worst kind of thief. Who would have known I would be in debt to his humanity?