Seine Gedanken Niederlegen - Write Down in Thoughts
I never knew why the voice had prompted me to go to the attic. What was it's motive for reaching me? Why didn't it just leave me alone?
That's what I always thought before. That's what I always thought, at least, until now. The voice scared me, but at the same time, I never questioned disobeying it.
I look into the half lit attic room, eyes wide, as my eyes were not yet adjusted to the dim light. I see a small figure standing in front of the window, and figure it is a child who attends the orphanage. He turns around almost instantly, teary eyed. He looks at me and I look at him, but no one dares to make a sound. I am about to ask him what he was doing here at this hour, as the house mother would yell if she found him, but something catches my eye. I look in his left hand, trembling very unsteadily, as he holds a silver pair of scissors to his right wrist. Silver scissors...
They are the same silver scissors that I had seen earlier that night, when I had snooped through the creaky floorboard. Was this the same boy, whose hiding location it had been owned by? And if they were in fact the same scissors and same person... What was he intending their use for? I sure hope it wasn't what it looked like it was...
Whoever it may be, the boy drops the scissors on the floor. It makes a loud ching sound as it bounces off and stumbles a bit before finding an even place to rest on the wooden floor. I step back a little as whisper aloud, "What are you doing?!"
The boy doesn't answer me. He seems like he is in a state of shock, as he turns his head away from me. His hands drop back down to his sides slowly. My eyes finally adjust to the poor lighting in this musty attic, and I can make out his face. Dark brown hair, silvery blue eyes. Yes, this was indeed the boy from before. The boy who hadn't seen me as he puttered with the hiding spot. Why was he up here? He wasn't... going to cut himself... Right...?
"...You should leave now." He spoke to me solemnly. His face remained the same as he bent down to pick up the scissors. I stay in my location, unfettered by his words.
"What...? Come on. We have to go. If the house mother awakens, it'll be the end for both of us..." I encourage him to leave with me. I am about to walk up to him and tug on his arm, to pull him with me, but he moves before I can get a grasp on it. He turns to me, shakes his head 'no', and leaves me feeling a little scared. He then makes a motion with his mouth, as he is about to speak.
"If you leave now, it will only be the end of me, whether she wakes up or not." he says in a deep tone.
Only the end of him? He couldn't mean...!?
I grab his arm and forcefully drag him out the room. I wouldn't let him go through with whatever he was going to do with those scissors. No way, it wasn't going to happen. This boy, who seemed so nice, so kind... Not a chance. The only person who treated me like I mattered, even if all he did was offer me a small portion his lunch. He noticed me. For the first time in these two years of being here, he noticed me. I felt happy when he did! So... I won't allow him to go through with this.
I drag him through the hallway by his right arm, but he tries to dig his feet into the floor. I am weak, having had almost no physical activity before, and he easily breaks free.
"...What do you care, anyways?"
I don't know why. Why did I care? This person never spoke to me before, on a casual level. We never said 'hi', we never joked or laughed or chatted. We were just... there. But, whether I knew this person or not, my concious would be severely invaded if I had let him do this to himself.
"I don't know... But... This is wrong... You shouldn't do this! You can't... I won't let you." I say. I have no logic behind my words, but I say whatever makes sense at the moment. The boy looks me in the eye, and I don't have the energy to turn away from his gaze. His gaze is stunning, really. He isn't sad, he isn't happy. He's indifferent to the world as it is, and he won't share his indifference aloud. "Come back... It's still not too late." I tell him. The boy hesitates before he nods his head ever so slightly.
"...If you say so."
I let go of his hand, and he hides the scissors behind a table in the hallway. I wait for him to catch up to me, and we walk back. We don't say anything, and we aren't walking side to side. He walks behind me, and I don't turn to look back. Was this guy crazy? Or just going through hard times? Would he hurt me if I made a wrong action? I don't know. But right now, I just saved another life from an untimely end.
I lead him to the cot room, and there is only one cot left. We turn to each other, and at the same time, we both say, "Go ahead."
I shake my head no, and say, "No, really, go ahead." He doesn't accept my permission and revolves the offer right back to me.
"It's fine. I'm not tired, anyways. I probably will stay awake. You need sleep." he says. I finally decide that he isn't going to give up until I lie down on the cot, so I affirm it with him.
"...Are you sure?" I ask, in case he might take up the offer.
"Yes." He then walks away to the back corner of the room, not looking back to me.
I decide to lie down on the cot, slowly, as not to make a creaking noise. I eventually am safe on the cot, and turn around in it to find a comfortable position to sleep in. I pull the thin blanket up to my neck, lying on my back to see the ceiling. I see a spider make its way across the wooden planks on the surface, and squirm a little. I sure hope it doesn't come near me... I decide to recap about everything today. Memories of today haunt me, as I wince at the thoughts that the boy was going to kill himself... How horrible...
I shudder as I pull up my left arm to my face, and notice something I hadn't before.
There was something caking the outside of my arm, but only a small amount of it. It was a half liquid, half solid type of thing. I look at it closer and realize it was blood. Was I bleeding? Did I accidentally scrape my arm against something? I fear the sight of blood, although not nearly as much as I fear spiders. I feel around for a scape or some sort of pain, but I don't feel anything. Was this... the blood of that boy? Was I too late to prevent him from cutting? I frown as I feel emotions of guilt. I was too late. But then, the voice I fear begins to speak to me.
You came just in time. You weren't late at all.
But, he cut himself! If I came sooner, he wouldn't have done this...
That may be so, but imagine if you didn't come for him at all. What if you just left him there, to take his own life with his own hands? His body to be found the next morning?
If I... just... left him there.... !!
My mind is feeling like it's being torn in two. I begin to cry. Suicide. Would I ever be brave enough for that? No... There was no such thing as bravery in suicide. Only cowardliness. Was I... enough of a coward for suicide?
No. Not yet.
My life isn't the worst. Somewhere out there, there is someone who is enduring ten times my pain. Somewhere out there, someone is more of a coward than I am. I'm not the bottom of the food chain quite yet...
I am near ready to fall asleep, when I hear the sound of papers shuffling in the room. I open my eyes, but I don't move. I take a glance around the room, my eyes landing on the back corner. The boy was digging through his secret hiding spot, pulling out an object. What was it? Let's see... It could either be the pictures, or the diary... I turn over to my side, and the cot creaks. I realize that I might have accidentally confirmed that I was still awake to the boy, but he doesn't look up. I give a mental sigh before I continue to watch him. Just as I decide he's just digging through it for old time's sake, the spider from before climbs its way up my pillow. My eyes widen as I try to silently blow it away, but the only thing this does is make it run closer to my arm. I give a small yelp before I jump a little. I brush it off of my bed by thrashing the pillow a little, and then I realize what I have just done.
The boy looks right at me, his eyes wide and alert as always.
I can't sleep, and he seems to notice my feelings.
He beckons me over with his left arm, using a sort of backwards wave movement to summon me. He then puts a finger to his lips to represent 'Be quiet'.
I slip out of the cot with no difficulties and tip-toe my way over to the back corner. I kneel down next to him, waiting for him to speak.
"You were in here, weren't you?" the boy tells me.
"...No." I deny. I know all to well that I had, in fact, snooped, and he seems to know it as well.
"I saw you in the room with me earlier today. You were in here." So, he did notice me...
"Why... didn't you say anything? Why didn't you leave?"
"Because the room was as empty as it ever was going to get at the time." He did have a point. This room was our bedroom, our lounge, and our hangout. Whenever the kids weren't eating or bathing, they were in here. It was rare for it to be desolate.
"Besides," he continues, "You have no one to tell." True. So very true. Who would I tell? Who would listen to me? I'm just a lowly Diclonius girl. I muster up strength to talk to him.
"Okay... I did come through here. I was just curious. I didn't read your diary, though."
"Oh... Good." he sighs. I decide not to bring up the whole cutting thing, as he seemed to be over it, now. It's best to leave a forgotten war behind, as it's still fresh on the mind, as the old saying goes.
An awkward silence fills the air as he writes in his diary, and I'm left sitting there alongside him.
"Say... What... What is your name?" I finally ask.
"Minoru." the boy tells me calmly.
"Minoru, what?" I ask, implying that I am looking for a last name as well.
"I don't have a last name, as far as I'm concerned." Minoru says sharply.
No last name, as far as he's concerned? Now, that didn't make much sense. I decide not to press it, though.
"Oh. Okay... My name's--"
"Lilith. I know." Minoru states in a whisper.
He noticed me? He knew my name? Was I the only person unfamiliar with the other? Then again, it is hard to miss a Diclonius. I stood out like a fire truck on the road, here.
"...Minoru... Why are you here?"
"I'm entering a page in the diary." he states.
"No... I mean... Why... are you in the orphanage, Minoru? There's got to be something."
"My parents left me behind. They had 8 children, and decided they had to give a few of them up for financial reasons." So, that's why he was here. His parents left.
"Oh... So, they left you here?"
I confirm. I then wish I hadn't.
"Not exactly." he says, closing the journal, his voice lowering an octave.
"Not... exactly?" I press.
"They tried to kill me first." I gasp. They tried to... kill... him?! Why didn' t they just give him up? Why couldn't they just leave him be?
"They didn't plan to give me up to the orphanage anytime soon. It was three years ago. I still remember it. They were crazy. They had too many kids, and it drove them nuts. One day, I come home from school, and I find three of my siblings, dead. The younger ones, because the kindergarten let out early." he said, tears running down his eyes.
"-!!" I feel like I am about to puke. I gag in my mouth a little. His parents... They killed... innocent children?! Sick, sick humans! Disgusting! How dare they?! I hate his parents, and I didn't even know them.
"They went for me next, but I was too fast for them. I ran out the front yard, across the street, and yelled for help. I was screaming at the top of my lungs for someone, anyone to help. And, a neighbor heard and brought out his shotgun. It scared my parents away, as they were not carrying firearms. They only had the knife. He called the cops, and from there, I was separated from my other three siblings. They were sent to foster homes, and I got sent here."
My stomach sinks.
This is the person.
This is the person out there, who has it worse than I do. My life, my experiences, they are nothing on this kid.
I begin to cry like a madman, tears stream down my face. Minoru looks at me and doesn't know how to react, so he hesitantly raises his hand to my back. He tries to comfort me, but he isn't quite sure how to. Unfamiliar with people, he is? I suspect so.
He eventually pulls me into a hug, and we cry together, as I tell him my life story, and how I came to terms with this hell of an orphanage. We confide in each other. We just met, but I finally feel like I know this person as if he were my own self, and I can tell he feels the same way.
He listens about how I tell him how I felt about everything.
How I lived with no daylight with my parents.
How I had a childhood crush on a family friend, Brendan.
How he went out of his way, lost his job and his reputation, all for me.
How I saw death through my own eyes.
How I got dragged out of that home.
How I got pulled by the arm into the court, and was sentenced to the Diclonius institution.
How lawyers fought, saying I didn't threaten anyone.
How after a full month of courts, day in and day out, I was allowed into society, but with very close eyes on me, always.
One false step, and I would be killed.
It would only take the tiniest of threats to fall from my mouth in order for me to be sent to the instituion, where go knows what happens there to my kind.
I don't know your way, but are we the only ones for each other?
Will you free my heart, hold my hand, and be my older brother?
I want to help you.
I want you to help me.
Someday we'll run away...
and we'll both be free.
AN/ Thank you for reading, sorry to have to present you with such a low-bringing chapter. Does anyone reading this think that Lilith is a Mary-Sue type of character? Please tell me how I can flesh her out a bit more, I am writing at 2:06 am as always, and therefore, I tend to turn a blind eye on writing emotion. Since I write in mornings, I'm more suited to write my humor stories, where you can leave anything out and it still makes sense.
Thanks for your time!