Untitled little angst-piece...

For artistic creations in text format.

Moderators: KingOfDoma, NebulaQueen

Rainbow Fright
 

Untitled little angst-piece...

Unread postby Rainbow Fright » Mon Feb 17, 2003 6:15 pm

I've been listening to too much J-Rock today, namely "Carnival" by DéspairsRay, which part of comprises my siggy. ^_^ Thus, I became inspired to write this one-shot concerning how Rain got those scars she's so adamant on hiding from the world. Yes, I know it's short. It's supposed to be.

---------------------------------

She sat in front of the mirror, blank, dull, dead eyes staring back at her. Her own, of course. The eyes of one who'd become so desensitized to death and violence neither fazed her anymore. Why should they? She was already dead inside, an empty shell, a mockery of life. The figure in question was a nekojin, as was obvious by the white-furred feline ears poking up through her wild, spiky, long violet hair, slit-pupiled eyes, and the tail snaking from the base of her spine. Her skin was quite nearly as white as her furred appendages, flawless save for the two ugly red-brown scars marring her still-childlike face. An X-shaped one gashed into her right cheek, and a diagonal slash slightly lower down on the left, closer to her mouth than the first.

With a slight sigh she opened a small pot of white makeup on the dresser in front of her, scooped out a bit and rubbed it between her palms, applying it to her face with nearly mechanical efficiency, soon concealing the scars from view, leaving her as pure and white as new-fallen snow. Then came the black pencil, thickly rimming the eyes, more dripping down her face like the tears she could no longer bring herself to shed, tinting her lips just *so*...perfect. The young woman looked at herself with a sense of slight satisfaction in the mirror, at her perfect, unblemished, expressionless face. Nobody needed to know about the scars. Nobody needed to see them. Nobody but her.

How long had it been? Ten years, if she remembered correctly. Ten years since her mother sliced her face open that night, ten years since she'd fled out into the snow to escape her wrath. She'd only been eleven then, still living with her mother, much more mature than the other children her age. She had to be, since no less than four times a week she had to half-carry, half-drag her mother to her room at night when the woman passed out drunk on the floor. She kept up the house, ran all the errands, and took assorted little odd-jobs to make sure they had enough money when her mother's questionable clientele didn't pay too well that month, or when buisiness was slow. No time to play, no time to make friends, she had chores to do and if she didn't do them she'd have fresh bruises to add to the older, fading ones on her arms and legs.

It had been one of her mother's bad nights that night, as the woman was already quite intoxicated when she came home, neglecting to close the door behind her and letting the cold air and snow gust in. She stalked futher into the room, heading purposefully for the crude wooden table and chairs, her daughter waiting nearby nervously, twisting a bit of the rag she'd used to clean between her hands. Glaring at the child as if her very gaze could strike her dead, she settled down onto one of the rickety chairs, merely staring at the girl contemptously for a moment longer. Then her gaze flicked to the table itself, and her face colored with rage.

"You lazy little bitch...it's still *dirty* here! I degrade myself to support you, working like a *dog*, and this.....THIS is how you REPAY ME?", she stood again, chair overturning with a crash as she stalked towards the child who shrunk back from her, tears welling up in her amethyst-hued eyes.

"Mama, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I didn't know! I'll clean it up right now, see? Please, just don't hit me....don't hurt me anymore..", she pleaded, making for the table so she could prove her worth and avoid a beating, but her mother snarled and lashed out at her, smacking her across the face with a sharp *crack*, sending the girl to the floor with a squeal of pain.

"Ow! Mama, that *hurt*!"

"Shut up you little bitch. Whine, whine whine, that's *all* you do. Good for nothing little cunt...I never wanted you. Without *you*, I could have had a good life, but *no*..."

"Mama..."

"Be QUIET!"

Quick as lightning, the girl's mother went for the knife sheathed at her waist, possibly not comprehending what she was doing considering how intoxicated she was. Three times the knife flashed, slashing viciously at the girl's face. Blood splattered to the floor, thick and red, as the child screamed. Her mother just smiled.

"You know, I think I've come up with a solution to my little problem. Yes, I have. I'm going to kill you. See? That'll make everything *all* better..", she advanced on her daughter, the bloody knife still clutched in her hand, a disturbingly warm, maternal smile playing across her face as if she were going to bestow a gesture of affection on her offspring instead. "Come here. I promise you won't suffer long..."

Choosing between a mother who had suddenly gone mad and the frigid night outside wasn't a hard decision, and being closer to the door the girl ran off into the night, her mother screaming at her from the doorway to come back. Barefoot, in nothing but a worn old dusty-grey dress and bleeding, she ran nonetheless, ran until she collapsed from exhaustion, lungs feeling as if they were burning from the sheer cold. In the snow she lay on her side, touching a hand to her face and staring dully, disbelievingly at the blood that stained her palm. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. No she wouldn't. She was done with crying. Still, one thing was on her mind..

"Mama.....why?"

Snapping out of her daze, Rain sighed again. Why the Hell was she dredging up ancient history? The past was over and done with. It didn't matter anymore. She didn't have to face that woman ever again. Snatching up her chain-whip, she exited the room, boots thudding against the wooden floor. She really didn't have a reason to dwell on such trivialities anymore.

But still, she wanted her question answered. She still wanted to know why. <p>~Ah,the reason for ugliness,
Is it the fault of this persecuted existence?
Soon I will become a monster who cannot shed tears,
Who has forgotten pain..~</p>Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=rainbowfright>Rainbow]&nbsp; Image at: 2/17/03 5:16:56 pm

Uncle Pervy
 

Re: Untitled little angst-piece...

Unread postby Uncle Pervy » Wed Feb 19, 2003 2:01 pm

Hmmmm...

*Privately doing psychological Diagnoses*

Interesting little bit, our Rain. ^_^ <p><div style="text-align:center">Image Image Image Image Image ImageImage</div></p>

User avatar
pd Rydia
Moderator
 
Posts: 5269
Joined: Mon Apr 22, 2002 4:12 pm
Location: Temple of Fiends

Re: Untitled little angst-piece...

Unread postby pd Rydia » Wed Feb 19, 2003 8:08 pm

Not bad. Interesting little backstory, too. <p>
<span style="font-size:xx-small;">-=- "Why must my flaming debris be so delicious and edible? ;_;" -- FlamingDeth
-=- "oye KoD! tu griego me rockearia, si fuera griego de verdad..." -- ikozaedro
-=- "Seriously. The undead just don't stop. Great, aren't they?" -- Dirk (Skull Dragon)
-=- "Kelne's a natural magnet for everything, from lovers to planetary destroyers to carrots." -- End Reshiki</span></p>

Rainbow Fright
 

Re: Untitled little angst-piece...

Unread postby Rainbow Fright » Wed Feb 19, 2003 8:20 pm

Thanks. ^_^ It occured to me that Rain was *very* touchy about those scars of hers and hiding them under roughly as much makeup as your average J-Rocker wears, but I never explained just *how* she got them. There we go. It also kinda shows why she's so angry at life in general.


Image <p>~Ah,the reason for ugliness,
Is it the fault of this persecuted existence?
Soon I will become a monster who cannot shed tears,
Who has forgotten pain..~</p>Edited by: [url=http://p068.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=pdrydia>pd]&nbsp; Image at: 6/11/05 17:35


Return to Fanfiction and Other Writings

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 10 guests

cron

Yalogank