Hey guys! This is my new story. Um, I got the idea for it when I was at school, during lunch time. I seriously had so many ideas for this story. I thought about a crossover, but that wouldn't do. So in the end, it's a nice, short Ryou angst story for you guys.
It's a companion story to my other work, 'I've Always Wondered...', which just so happens to be another Ryou angst story.
It happens a lot.
Sometimes we, ourselves, change things. And sometimes, life changes things for us. Sometimes, the changes are good; rewarding even. And sometimes they aren't very good; leaving a feeling of regret.
It's funny how things change so quickly; right before our eyes. Like one second, it's normal. And the other, it's totally different.
I sometimes think that change goes hand to hand with fate and destiny. Fate uses change to lay out its destiny. Sometimes it's along the good side of the road, and sometimes, it's not.
I find myself often thinking about why change turns out to be bad for me. I look at Yugi and the others, and I seethe with anger when I think about how happiness is always sprinkled upon them. Sure, they get the occasional event that leaves them disheartened, but it's like good luck's constantly following them everywhere; kind of like dogs and their owner.
From the way I'm talking right now, I'm probably just ranting to all you guys right now. You probably think that it's actually not that bad; like everything will be better soon.
But it won't.
Because change has done more damage to me than you can imagine. The events of change has left me hurt; physically and emotionally. Because of these events, tears, blood and my pride flows away from me; away from me through my eyes; my cuts; my body.
Change has taken away everybody I love. It's taken away my mom; my little sister; my father, and has replaced it with him. He doesn't care; nor will he ever will. He doesn't care about my problems. All he cares about is the revenge of the Pharaoh.
And so, he kicks me, punches me, cuts me, and leaves me curled on the floor, whimpering as the effects of all emotional and physical damage that had occurred to hit me. And as it does, I cry. I cry for my loneliness, my weakness, and myself.
And something hits me.
No, it wasn't him. No kicks, punches, cuts. No insults either. It was something different; something that left me feeling a bit better. I tried to bring back the feeling, but it had disappeared, just as quickly as it had come. The tears dried, leaving stains on my cheeks, and I just lay on the floor, wondering. And then I realize what I had felt.
A flutter of hope.
Heh. I used the think that there was no hope for me. After all, nobody cares. They just ignore me; think I'm not here, like I'm a shadow. I pick myself up, watching as minutes pass by before I straightened myself. I take a glance around the room, not looking for anything in particular. My eyes settle upon the bloody knife that he had carelessly placed. I picked it up, examining the blood, which was at least a good five inches long.
I lift my arm up, flipping my hand over so I could see the blue veins running through my hand. I traced it with my knife, not hard enough so that it would hurt, but hard enough so I could feel the cold metal upon my sensitive wrist. Without warning, I plunged the knife deep within my wrist, already feeling the effects of blood loss before a minute had even passed.
My life drains from my body, along with my loneliness, my weakness and myself. This is my hope. This is how I choose to end my life.
This is my change.