Prompt: Explain why Rima hasn't visited her family lately...
Author Note: I don't know why I'm writing this. I just saw a little piece of Vampire Knight where Rima seemed a little reluctant to visit her parents, and my wheels in my head started spinning. It's Rima's point of view.
Disclaimer: I do not, did not, and never will own Vampire Knight. I make no profit from this. Enough said.
It happened every time I visited.
Mother's sobs broke the silence just before the glass vase hit the wall. "I hate you! Devil child! I wish I never had you!" She screamed between sobs that wracked her body.
I knew better than to go to her. When Mother was in a rage like this, you had to let her tucker herself out before you went to her, otherwise you would only get hurt.
I dodged as she threw another object at me, a plate this time. Best to be quiet. Words only made Mother madder in times like this.
"Devil Child!" She screamed again. "You're making them do this!" She meant the voices of course. The voices that only she could hear.
I couldn't take it, I just couldn't. Tears slid down my face and I ran from the house, even though I could hear glass shatter behind me.
My feet were bare, I was in my nightclothes, and I was a mess. There was nowhere I could go, nowhere except...
I kept running, my feet pounding the pavement. I blinked my blurred vision away, trying to see straight. Finally I came upon the house I knew so well: Shiki's.
I unhooked the key from its necklace; the necklace I had taken to wearing at all times, just because of Mother, and stabbed it into the lock.
"Rima..." Came a soft call from the other side of the door. I pulled the key out and the door whipped open. Shiki stood there, shirtless and looking ruffled.
"I don't want to talk about it." I scrubbed at my face with my hands. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Come inside." I let him pull me inside. "Your mother needs help." Shiki shut the door. He leaned in close and pulled a shard of glass out of my cheek with his fingers alone. "She's hurting you."
"She doesn't want help and you know it." I leaned against him. The cut didn't want to seem to heal; I could still feel it there.
Instead of starting an argument over something he knew he couldn't control, he leaned in and kissed my cheek where the cut was, flicking his tongue against the cut to get a taste of my blood.
"Mm... Shiki, you're such a whore." I sighed as he pulled away, the tiniest of smiles on his face. He knew the anger wasn't directed at him, and he knew better than to be upset by it.
"You're staying here tonight." He replied. It was not a question. It was a statement, plain and simple. "My room or a guest room?"
"What do you think?" I don't know why he even bothered to ask anymore; every time I slept over I ended up in his room one way or another.
"Right." We made our way up to his room; me fitted against his side, his arm around me.
As we curled up in his bed, he pulled me close and whispered, "Were you scared of her?"
It's a disturbing question, really; I should be scared of Mother. But I'm not. As insane and deadly as she may seem, I hadn't been scared of her since I was little. It isn't a pleasant situation when she pitches a fit, but she's too predictable to cause fear in my heart.
"Shiki, you know the answer." I whispered. "I couldn't be afraid of her. She's my mother."
"You should be." He ran a finger over the long gone cut on my cheek. "She hurt you. She's not stable."
"I know she's not stable!" I huffed. "But can we please get some sleep? It's going to be dark soon, and we have an evening modeling job."
Shiki knew better than to pressure me. Instead, he closed his eyes and ran his fingers through my hair.
We fell asleep like that, but when we woke up for our evening modeling job, I got some disturbing news. Mother had been put into the psych ward.
Author Note: Just a quick note here, this is the end of chapter one there will be at least one more chapter. And if you didn't get the mania reference when we were with Rima's Mother, I did aim for Bipolar. I am Bipolar, so that came easier to me. No I have never thrown dishes. Review, PM me, whatever you like. I love comments on my stories; anyway you send them to me.