~Sora's Story: Shattered Skies~
"Sora, what does that mean?" Roxas asked him.
"Oh, it gets better..."
All I wanted was support... A sign that told me I was loved...
The reporters didn't notice me as I pushed through the ranks. Just what was going on? Did someone tell my dad I died? Some sick joke that was. And seeing him there, he's taking my death surprisingly well.
Even in the rain, my blood boiled.
My own father embraces the idea of my death with open arms. Just how much does he hate me? Did he hate me, I mentally corrected myself. He thinks you're dead, remember?
Getting into the house through the front door was an obvious no, (pfft, what do you think I am, an idiot?) so that left the back door, and the windows. Reaching into my pocket, I sighed when I felt the cold metallic touch of my keys. Even though I just used them, I forgot that I had them.
Sneaking behind my own house, (degrading, I know) I managed to get in. That isn't easy with a broken arm, let me tell you. Even in the inside, you could hear those annoying camera flashes, and the voices of reporters trying to talk one over another. I searched the house, and found someone in my room.
"Vanille!" I said, relieved.
Vanille was one of the maids here. She was one of my favorites, always being so nice to me. She turned around, but she wasn't happy to see me. The tears streaming down her cheeks just wouldn't stop. I don't know if it was my imagination, but they seemed to increase when she layed eyes on me.
"What's wrong? Is it my arm? Look, I'm sorry I was so reckless-"
"Leave, Sora. You still have some time. I... I packed a bag for you." She held out a backpack full of clothing. I stared at her.
"What are you taking about? This is my house, I'm not leaving."
"Sora, please! Get out of here!"
"Can't you explain what's going-"
"Vanille, you are excused. Exit the room."
Her expression was enough to tell me who was behind me. As if the deep, rugged voice wasn't enough hint. She left the backpack on the bed and walked out of my room, and I know she was trying her hardest not to cry anymore.
I didn't turn to face him. He won't hear a word from me until he explains. My father isn't happy to see me. Apparently, nobody is.
"You're alive," he said.
"You knew I was," my voice is less than whisper. "And you still said I died."
"But don't you see the wondrous opportunity in this?" He's in front of me now. In my entire life, I have never seen him smile like that. It looked so genuine. "With you dead, my reputation will skyrocket! Yes, the successful man who lost his child, wife, and overcame all of that. A kind heart sells," he said.
"You don't have a heart to begin with! Don't you care for me as your son?!" I snarled, furious.
"I don't have a son. He died. And if he suddenly appears in public, alive by a miracle..." He locked those cold eyes with mine, "I will make sure the imposter is taken care of."
Without another word, he turned to leave. Also, when he reached my door, he said, "pack your things and leave this place, Strangers are not welcome here."
And he was gone.
I stayed with Vanille for a few days, but I couldn't help but feel like a bother. She still worked at my father's house, and just then I noticed how much she worked. She left her apartment at dawn, and arrived at dusk, even later. Sometimes, she didn't come back at all. I felt so terrible at school. How was I at school? Well, Vanille had sent to this school near her house, but she and I both knew that looking the way I did, there was no way. So I dyed my hair black and put on some golden contacts I had used last Halloween. Vanille gave me the name Vanitas, for some reason. Now I know that it was a play on words. Vanitas means Vanity in latin, or something like that.
So I lived for a while like that, acting cold and distant toward others. Boy, was that fun. I got to be my true self, for once. Or the me I wanted to be.
The one who didn't care.
The emotionless one.
The one everyone hated.
But one day, it fell on me like a bag of bricks. I was alone at Vanille's house that day. It was a weekend. My mind was a turmoil. I hated when this happened: All my thoughts always ended with my father, and this time I snapped.
I swung at a vase, watching it fall to the floor and explode into tiny pieces of ceramic. One embedded itself in my ankle. I sunk to the floor, leaning against the wall. I felt terrible. My life had long since lost any meaning. I was only a bother to Vanille, and a bother at school. I was a bother to even my father.
I didn't feel like myself. Reaching into the cabinet I pulled out a knife. Placed it over my wrist.
The rest was history.
"I passed out after that. Vanille got home to see me in a small pool of my own blood. Wasn't pretty, I'm sure. Apparently, I didn't die since I didn't cut a main vein, just a secondary one. But if she hadn't driven me to the hospital, they predicted I would've bled to death. As of today, I live with Vanille permanently."
"...What about your dad?"
"The press eventually found out about our little issue, and it wasn't very good for his business."
Sora's problem drove him insane, almost to where he killed himself. Is that so different from mine? Roxas thought, when he heard a voice.
"Um, Aqua, I'd like to go next."
Hey everyone! Long time no see! How have you been?
Leave a review with who'd you like to go next! (And your thoughts about this chapter too.)