I hope this one-shot is good! I had the best time writing it! I beg you all to review! Review please!! This is my first attempt at something I'd like to consider dark. So bare with me. Alright?

-Kura-Yami nakuusshite Hikari na (always and forever, BrittanySeville18^^)


I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! I hate that color!! Brittany screamed mentally as she found that loathsome color on her wall. It was everywhere! All over her wall! Climbing onto her bed and using her long nails, she pried it off the wall. It came off with a loud ripping sound and she made it her job to rid anything in her room of this color.

She ripped every bit of her wallpaper, crying as she did so. She hated this color! His color! Tears traveled down her face as she was ridding her wall of the last piece of paper. Sinking onto her knees on the floor, sobs racking her body, she saw it. Under her desk, on the carpet, there was more of his color! Why was it haunting her!?

On her hands and knees, without a second thought, she lifted her desk and threw it over until the top was face down. She tugged at her carpet, her goal: to rip the sewn in color off it. Tugging at it with all her might, Brittany knew it wasn't coming off. Stopping to gather her breath and control on her emotions, she looked around. Her somewhat crazed and frantic salt water eyes zeroed in on scissors. Standing on shaky feet, she went over and grabbed them, stumbling back to her spot, she dropped to her knees.

After eyeing the scissors, she stared with loathing at the hideous color taunting her in the carpet. Without hesitation, she stabbed her carpet, lifting the scissors and repeating the would be homicidal style of ridding herself of the problem. Stabbing it, she held it there, and opened the scissors to grab the piece of carpet and squeezing it shut, she yanked, and she yanked hard.Relishing at the sharp rip, she tossed the scissors aside and started ripping the carpet with her bare hands. She had to get rid of even the faintest existence of that color!

A few hours passed and Brittany's room didn't even look close to the way it had earlier in the day. Spending all that time ripping holes into her carpet, pulling out each sewn in piece of her carpet that was stained with the loathsome color. Her bed had been knocked over as well, the blankets and pillows scattered across her room lazily. She was getting to the last spot on her carpet, hidden behind her tossed over bed when she heard a sharp gasp.

Ignoring the sound, she had finally managed to get the piece of crap out of her carpet. There were more holes than there was a carpet, but she didn't care. No more taunting! No more haunting! And best of all, no more memories and reminders! Standing slowly, quickly tossing aside the raped piece of carpet, she met disbelieving somber eyes.

"Brittany...what have you done?" Simon asked in shock. Her eyes, dulled over in an insane style, her clothes coated with sweat, her face streaked with dried tears and her hair a mess, she was unrecognizable. Just as was her room.

"I-I had to do it!" She said, her body trembling. Simon scanned her abused room. Everything was either ripped, torn or tossed around. Heck, the only unharmed part of her room was her window! "His color!" She exclaimed, Simon's attention snapped back to her. "It's everywhere! Haunting me! Torturing me!"

Simon let out a sad sigh, knowing all too well what and who she was referring to. "Brittany, it's been six months since then." Simon said with a gentle tone. Brittany looked as though she had been slapped.

"You weren't there!" She snapped. "You didn't see what I had seen! Don't give me that, 'you need to get over it' crap!" She went over her bed and stood within inches of Simon, glaring with insanity into his worried eyes. "I can'tget over it! I have nightmares about it! Every. Single. Night!" She hissed with venom laced in every word. Simon didn't know what to say. She was right, he hadn't been there. But she had.

"Brittany, have you gone to any of your counseling meetings since then?" He asked.

"...No, I haven't. You already know that Simon." Brittany said in a low voice, drenched with so much anger and insanity, it made Simon regret being alone with her. Shifting from one foot to another, Simon struggled for words. "Now, if you don't mind..." Her voice trailed off as she saw something on his shirt. Eyes wide in horror and disbelief, she forced them into Simon's confused and frightened ones.

Lifting her hand slowly, not removing her eyes from Simon's, she traced the small pattern on his chest. "Brittany...?" He whispered, her fingers caressing the small patch sewn into his signature blue sweater. On it were the letters: 'A & S: Brother's Forever' in perfect stitching, sitting right on his heart. He had forgotten, it was in the color she loathed most.

"His color...you're wearing it, Simon..." Her voice was abnormally soft. Tensing when she went from caressing the material, to clutching as though it was a life-line. "You're wearing his color, Simon!!!" Came the yelling he had been expecting, though dreading as well. He only flinched slightly. Lowering her heated salt water eyes to the material in her hand, she let out a dry sob, placing her other hand on Simon's chest. Using unexpected force, she pulled on his shirt, ripping the sewn in words off his shirt, leaving that part of his body exposed.

Simon's breath caught, but he said nothing, only watched her as she actually gave the material some attention. She ran her fingers over it one last time before dropping it, letting it float gently to the floor at her feet. She met his smoky eyes and shook her head in annoyance.

"You know better than to wear that color around me!" She snapped. He sighed softly. She sank to the floor and he followed suit. He knew she was seeing it again, that fateful evening. He had learned from previous experiences, not to touch her. She had nearly killed him the first time he had done that.

'Where could he be?' Brittany wondered as she hurried from the school, over to the Seville house. She had tried calling, but his phone was off. 'He knows we only have a few more rehearsals before the opening night.' She stepped up to the door and knocked. Then waited. No answer. She knocked again. Nothing. She rang the doorbell this time. Still nothing. Sighing, she turned the doorknob, shocked to find it unlocked. "Hello?" She asked, poking her head inside first. She went in. "Dave?" She called. 'No, Dave should still be at then, could he be here still?' She wondered, going in all the way.

The house was quiet. Eerily quiet. The kind of 'suspenseful, shiver down your back' quiet. And that's what she got, shivers crawling up and down her back. The house has never scared her before, and wondering why it was now didn't make it any less frightening.

After checking all the downstairs areas for him, she looked upstairs. Feeling as though she was walking on egg shells. Feeling like an eternity and a half passed before she reached upstairs, Brittany looked down the hall. For some reason, it felt as though the hallway had stretched in miles now. Walking slowly and silently, she checked all the bedrooms for him. He was in none. She was about to exit his room when her ear caught something. Going back in, she listened again. She heard it, a choked sob. Her breath caught and she looked at his closet. Going over to it, she reached out with a trembling hand and grasped the doorknob. Not knowing why fear had nearly paralyzed her, Brittany turned the knob and opened the door.

A scream had gathered in her throat, but never came out. There, on the floor of his closet was Alvin. Both wrists sliced and blood coming out in puddles. There was a needle centimeters from his fingertips. And looking close, she could see he was still breathing. Panicking, she went to his side, holding him tight against her body. "Alvin! Alvin! What have you done!?" She cried, hot tears fell down her face quickly.

"Mm, Bri...tt...any..." He barely got out. Brittany sobbed against him. It was a miracle he was still alive! Even in self-inflicted pain, he never gave in without a fight. His blood was soaking her body and hands, staining her clothes. "Le...me....go..." She tightened her grip on him, not wanting to. "Plea....se..." Reluctantly, she did so and backed away, pulling out her cell phone. There was a raspy chuckle. She met Alvin's dying sea blue eyes.

With miracle strength, she watched Alvin's left arm lift up. Brittany was confused, his hand coming up last. Her eyes widened at seeing his last attempt at death. A gun. "Alvin, no please! Please!" She sobbed, reaching out to him, her phone abandoned. Another chuckle as he used more strength to put it against his temple. "Alvin, don't! Please!" More tears fell down her face, not like any in the beginning had stopped falling.

"Lo....ve....y...you..." He whispered. He casted her one of his signature smirks and used the rest of his engery to pull the trigger. The scream that she hadn't been able to release escaped her right after the sound of the gun going off had ended. Maybe even when it had been fired, she never found out. Cradling his bloody, lifeless body against her for hours until his brothers came home.

Sobbing at the memory, Simon reached out and pulled her close, hugging her in a warm embrace. She welcomed him, like she always did when she relived the memory. He seemed to either always be there, or come in time. Alvin had overdosed, cut his wrists and then shot himself. Brittany had a gnawing feeling he had been waiting for her before letting himself die. His last words to her seemed like he had wanted to tell her before he left. This only upset her more, she should have called for help, done something other than watch him die! But now, it was too late. He was gone.

She hated his color. Red was never the color of passion, not like many people said. Red was the color of blood. And blood signaled death in so many ways. He had been covered in his favorite color, his signature color, as had been Brittany for those few hours before anyone had found them, which scarred her for life. His color, was the color of death. Nothing more. Nothing less.