Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! nor its characters. The title of this story is credited to the actual non-fictional novelabout self-mutiltation/cutting.

PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU START THIS STORY: I quickly grew weary of reading stories in general about characters cutting, because they were depressed or something along the lines of that without going any deeper into into the reason, the emotions, and self-mutilation overall. I do not put the blame on authors, because unless you are a cutter yoruself, you could never understand period. You cannot even begin to imagine. And even if you are a self-mutilator of somesort, it's not easy to write a story about cutting, because you're facing your own demons, as I am right now. This story will reveal to you many things about cutters, starting from the reasons why we do it to how we feel about people's reactions when they discover our secrets, and so on. Obviously, this means that I myself am a cutter (I've been c-sober for a few months, so please, do not be alarmed), but I am also a writer. As a writer, my goal is to teach people things through words, through a story. A few events in this story has occured in real life. There are many books out there in book stores written by doctors and adults about self-mutilation, but I seriously think it's about time that an acutal cutter, someone who is also of young age, writes such a story. If you disagree with me, want to flame me, that's fine. But please, do not flag me. I am only trying to write this to help others, including myself, and also for the joy of writing YuugixAtem (-smile-). If you wish to speak with me for one reason or another, e-mail me or message me; I will gladly listen and respond.

This is a cutter's story.
You have been warned.

Bright Red Scream
By Blinded Ryter

This story is for all the cutters out there.
All I have to say to cutters is that...
No one's suffering is greater than anyone else's.
It's just that we suffer alone.

01 - A Cutter's Prologue

There are many reasons behind why a person would pick up a sharp object, and intentionally harm themselves. Perhaps it was to release the pain and other violent emotions that dwelled within their bodies, and were dying to break out. Or maybe it was to let physical pain numb the emotional pain. Other times, just seeing the blood rise and trickle slowly down their flesh calming, and helped the person to breathe again. Then, there were those who cut for the aftermath: to glance at the scar they bore, as if it was some kind of morbid trophy they clung to. There were also cases where there was no reason at all; it was simply the spur of the moment thing, while for others, it had become a daily/weekly/monthly routine. Whatever their reasons may be, how often they did it, what they used, and etc., these people all carried one name: self-mutilators or more commonly known as cutters.

Cutters weren't necessarily always people who were neglected or made an outcast from society. Nor was it a stereotypical thing where only "emos" did it. A person of any age, race, gender, and stereotype could do it, because everyone has control over what choices they make in their lives, and this was no different for the people who chose to become cutters.

Sometimes, a cutter could be that one person in your life that always held a warm smile on his face, and held a twinkling light of joy dancing in his eyes. They were the optimistic ones, the radiant ones, the ones that were always happy. Their hearts were wrapped in innocence, and the sound of their laughter was utterly care-free and light-hearted. But it is said that those who smile and laugh the most are the ones that hold the most pain in their hearts. It is just that these people have become masters at creating the perfect façade to fool everyone, even sometimes themselves. But the pain is still there nonetheless, swirling inside of their body like a violent whirlpool ready to break free any moment. Breaking free meant breaking down, and these people were too reluctant…even a bit frightened to break down. If they broke down, would they not cry? And if they cried…would they ever stop? There was so much pain they had buried it deeply into their hearts. It was not in their slightest desire to dig up such agony and misery back up again.

One way or another, whatever incident occurred in their lives to set off the fuse inside of them, they picked up a sharp object. Hence the first cut on their body. It started off with one. Then two. Then four…then twelve. They weren't addicted, but they needed it. They had it in control, but it was a habit. They felt like there was nothing wrong with what sins they were committing, in spite of what the rest of society would say. For some, harming themselves had become a daily, weekly, or monthly ritual. For others, it was a spur or the moment. Whether it be a small little bad thing, or something quite terrible, the demons took over, and picked up the blade.

Though cuts fade with time, a scar is always left behind, just like on Yuugi Motou's body, whose body was covered with scars, both old and new. The cuts were fading with time, but inside of Yuugi, his demons were fighting to break out, and let out a bright red scream.

No self-mutilator ever forgets their first cut, and Yuugi Motou was no different. His first time was in middle school, where he got fed up with being bullied. Many people have heard of young characters being harrassed and bullied in fictional books, but not many know just how terrible and awful it is. To be lying on the ground with darkness biting at the edges of your vision, your body throbbing, and hating yourself with each blow, because you were unable to defend yourself was one of the worse scars Yuugi bore in his heart. He was too weak, too helpless, too pathetic. On top of that, Yuugi had no friends, not even a single aquaintance. This added on to the self-hate: was Yuugi so different, so strange, that he could not make one single friend?

Yuugi hated himself for being so weak, for being so alone, for lying to his grandfather about coming home every other day with a limp or a bruise on his arm. With no one to console his problems about, the twelve-year-old let his problems grow into savage and bloodlusting demons that had found a place in his dying soul. Yuugi was ready to leap at any action, whether it be screaming into a pillow at the top of his lungs, or jumping off a roof, but when the thought of harming himself by cutting crossed Yuugi's mind, the boy blinked, and paused for a moment. Then, something began to slowly rise inside of him: a craving. As soon as he thought of cutting, he had the urge. The desire. The need.

Things for Yuugi had already begun to run out of control since that one little thought.

Locking the door of his bedroom, Yuugi sat down in his chair, and unzipped the pencil bag he carried to and fro school. The boy pulled out a light-weight switchblade, a common utensil was common for students of the Asian culture to have int heir possession. The switchblades were usually used to cut paper or assistance in a school project, but these switchblades also held a darker and more painful and harmful purpose.

Pushing the blade out of its plastic case slightly, Yuugi let the light of the lamp set on the desk cast its murky ray onto the silver blade. Yuugi stared at the switchblade for a moment. There was no hesitation and doubt; his sub-conscious had already shut down. The tri-colour-haired boy slid the sharp edge across his tender wrist. Yuugi winced and let out a sharp hiss, but soon relaxed. There was only a small prick of pain, then a cool and refreshing sensation followed afterwards. Yuugi inhaled and exhaled slowly. Adrenline began pumping through his veins, and he found it easier to breathe. Nothing could be seen at first on his pale flesh until tints of scarlet began to surface, and droplets of bright vermillion blood followed. The dark crimson liquid began to trickle down his wrist, and even a drop or two had fallen to the floor, and stained the faded carpet. Yuugi was bleeding and it was at his own fault, but the boy felt nothing.

No pain.
No guilt.
No shame.

Nothing.

His emotions, his heart, and his humanity had already begun to die with this first cut.

The path of a self-mutilator went down the path of a drug-addict, smoker, or drinker in some sense. Once you're a cutter, you're always a cutter period. You may stop for a month, a year, five years, or even more than ten years…but eventually, you will go back to that dark temptation someday. Yuugi had gone "cutter-sober" or "c-sober" for short as he always said to himself, at one point in his life. Yuugi had been c-sober for three months, two weeks, and three days, but being c-sober did not last forever. Yuugi couldn't even recall what had pushed him to the edge, and brought the demons of his past back to life, but in the end, Yuugi picked up the switchblade, and added a few more cuts to his growing (and never-ending) collection.

Yuugi kept his scars, cuts, and temptation a secret perfectly. He was smart enough not to cut too many times at once on his forearms. If he really needed it, the cuts would be on his chest, or around his shoulder, so he could still wear short-sleeved shirts, and not arouse suspicion. The boy also did not cut on his calves, so he could continue to wear gym shorts during P.E. class at school. Yuugi was also careful not to go down the road, but across the street. The boy wasn't depressed nor a tad bit suicidal. The bullies went away with time, and Yuugi had gotten through hardships, but any small event that occurred in the day was enough to set off a fuse in the boy. Yuugi would patiently wait until the day was over, so he could lock his bedroom door, and do it again. Other times, Yuugi had no reason whatsoever, but cut anyways. The boy bore seventy-four scars on his body, but things began to spiral downhill for the dark temptation he was clinging to when Yuugi solved the Millennium puzzle, and "his other half" became a part of his life.

When Yuugi met Yami, whom eventually discovered his real name to be Atem, and gained his own body, Yuugi had no choice, but to stop. Atem called Yuugi his "Aibou", his partner. For the first time in years, Atem stirred emotions within Yuugi. Guilt for the scars Yuugi was always cautious not to show Atem, and shame the temptation and demons that were dwelling inside of his soul. But Atem also helped Yuugi to feel other real and positive emotions, such as happiness, affection, and even love...Yes, love. Love as in more than a brotherly manner, but Yuugi did his best not to think too much about his feelings towards Atem; Yuugi knew that he was not good for his other half. How could a cutter be good for anyone?

Nonetheless, Atem was the only one that made Yuugi feel real. As if Yuugi still carried emotions, a heart, and was a human, not a walking empty shell breathing and living for another cut. Yuugi was still so far gone that even the friends he had made, Jou, Anzu, Honda, and Ryou, could not arouse real feelings such as joy inside of him. But, of course, Yuugi had years of experience to be the perfect and flawless fake, so no one would ever know what emotions were geunine and real, and which emotions were forced and strained.

But most importantly, Atem and Yuugi were connected by a "mind-link". They could share thoughts, emotions, dreams, and so on. How could Yuugi physically harm himself without Atem's knowing? Once, Yuugi had accidentally nicked his finger when cutting vegetables for dinner, and Atem went so hysterical that Yuugi got scared.

But that was an accident. What would Atem say, what would anyone say, if they found out that radiant, innocent, and care-free Yuugi Motou mutilated himself on purpose?

Yuugi forced himself to not touch the blade for more than a year while he was with Atem, participating in life-death duels, and so on. But now, with the Ceremonial Battle over, Atem having his own body, and living under the same roof as Yuugi, normalcy had returned to Yuugi's life. Yuugi thought that having a normal life would be good, but his theory proved to be wrong. Those deranged villians wanting to take over the world by stealing souls, shadow games, and other not-so-normal things had been the distractions that shielded Yuugi from the crimson temptations and bloodlusting demons. The boy didn't know how much more he could go on without another cut. His body was craving for it, his mind was begging for it, and Yuugi's demons were screaming for it.

A bright red scream.

Yuugi Motou was letting out a bright red scream.

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Blinded Ryter - I'm sorry for the short chapter, but I have already written the next two, and they are quite longer. If you dislike this story, even hate it, then please, don't flame me through a review, but through my e-mail. That way I can reply to you if you disagree with me. If you also simply wish to talk to me for whatever reason, you may send me a message or e-mail. I am always willing to listen, because all I asked for in the past was for people to listen to me. And as for those that are excited for this story so far? I'm very happy to hear that (: I shall update as soon as possible -grin-