Hey there :D

It's meeee! NessieWinsa is in the house!... ah, forget it. I was never really good with gangsta...

This one's dedicated to Riri-chi.

She's the one who boosted my moral, (Yes, you did, STOP DENYING IT! I know I was a big help, but YOU WERE BIGGER! I WIN, NO ARGUING! Haha, lol)

Yes, I'm younger, so I'm pay my respects with this story and gift(ish) and for Thank's Giving day here, in Canada. Well, in America, it's called Columbus day, and I'm not sure what they do. On Thank's Giving day, we reflect on our ancestors and (yeah, very literally) give thanks to them and have a giant family feast! (Turkey usually, but we get chicken and stuff it with stuff :D) Plus, we get a day off of school and work!

P: Well, let's get this show on the road.

-NW :3


·Should I hold my nose·

..·When you come near?·..

·Should I push you away·

..·When you push closer?·..

·Should I flinch·

..·When you touch me?·..

·Should I resist·

..·When you tell me ·..

·You love me?·

·Should I say you're a·

.

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R·E·T·A·R·D.

:O

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Divorce, divorce, divorce.

That's all they talked about these days.

Nothing else. Just when they were going to separate and how relieving it would be.

But did they ever console my feelings? No, they did not.

I bet half of the time they were alive they forgot I existed.

But they never did really divorce.

They never followed up to these things and just kept talking about it like it was their biggest goals in life.

Me? I didn't care. I just wanted them to make up their minds.

Okay, maybe I did care. Kusukusu went back in my heart despite the fact my parents still fought a lot. I wonder how that was possible. Maybe I was able to make my parents realize how unhappy I was, though I don't think that was the reason. I wanted to make them laugh, but they weren't happy. Was I the only one who didn't get anything?

T.T

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By

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::

NessieWinsa

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T.T

"You stalker. Leave me alone."

"I'm not stalking you."

"Stop following me!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"The project, remember?"

.

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Kami-sama hates me~

XP

.

.

"…Our teacher's a bitch."

"I know, you told me twelve times already."

"Good, it's in your head. Now all we have to do is get it in your head to stop following me!"

"No thanks. I'll pass."

"Retard."

I marched to the front door with Nagihiko hot at my heels. No, I never said he was hot. I said, he was in pursuit. Yes, I'm SURE that's what I meant, so don't argue.

Once I opened the door, angry shouting came from the living room. Nagihiko pointed to the room as if asking me if we should greet them. Immediately, I shook my head and grabbed his wrist before he could disobey my recommendation.

.

.

T.T

My life sucks~

Especially to have this idiot~

Following me around~

T.T

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.

"God, this is boring," I complained as I slumped against the bed. The board was almost finished, just a few more pictures to glue.

"I like France," Nagihiko said while humming and finishing the last bit. "Geography is useful and I only went to England for my competitions. I want to go to France next."

"The language doesn't make sense," I snapped.

"To non-Japanese people, our language wouldn't make sense," he pointed out. "People find learning Japanese hard and even harder to memorize all of the symbols."

I wanted to tell him he was talking nonsense, but found he was right. I sighed, frustrated, and hung my head against the frame of my bed. The damn teacher made us do this country project thing. It was like a whole middle school project. Grade eight couldn't be any harder, but it was. Amu and Tadase were doing America. It must have been so easy for them, but it was taking them almost three weeks to finish, considering the fact they blushed so hard they looked like tiny erupting volcanoes whenever we mentioned why they didn't just go over to each other's houses. Yaya and Kairi (because he skipped a grade) got to do Canada, which probably was easier than France. Anyone who got the United Arab Emirates was probably better off than us. No, not the country, the pairing.

At first, Nagihiko and I couldn't agree on anything. Like, not even what colour we were going to fill the letters in. We argued a lot, from pictures to the description of how the French got to Canada first, there was absolutely nothing we could agree on.

Well, at first. Until the teacher threatened to give us an F on the entire thing. That shut us up real fast.

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What to do?~

T.T -(...)

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Feeling hungry, I told Nagihiko I was going to get some supper. He nodded and asked for some too.

"I'll go dig up some worms from the garden."

"I'm not a bird," he protested.

I glared at him. He glared back. "Fine," I sighed. "I'll get you some normal human food."

"Thank you," he said pleasantly and continued to glue the pictures on.

I reached for the door handle but just as I was about to open the door, the door pushed open by itself.

The impact of door opening sent me falling on my back, feeling the cold floor underneath me and let out a shaky breath. In front of me, my mother stood like a looming storm cloud about to shoot lightning through my body. Her hair was a mess, her skin was pale and scratchy and her cheeks and parts of her arms were turning purple. I stared at her at my doorway, her tears streaming down and her eyes filled with regret and hate like a giant stirring tornado.

"M-mama?" I asked and got up to see what was wrong. "Mama, what's wrong?"

She didn't see Nagihiko because he was on the other side of the bed. He must have hid himself because I couldn't see him either. "Mama, please tell me—"

Her eyes flashed on mine and I felt a small shiver wriggle down my back. I started to back away, when she said in a deep sharp shrill, "I hate you."

"M-mama?"

"I wish you were never born!"

Smack.

I felt the burning sensation on my cheek as I was on the floor again. The floor was cold and comforting to the rising heat of my body temperature. The walls looked like a white shirt with red raspberry stains. My fingers itched to touch them, as my mother grabbed books from my book shelf and threw them on the floor.

I hate you. I wish you were never born.

"You shouldn't be here in the first place," my mother shrieked and slammed the door, leaving me to sit on my knees, still holding my damaged cheek.

You shouldn't be here in the first place.

It rang through my brain and bounced on and off the walls of my head.

Is that what she really wanted? Did she not want me anymore?

I felt my golden curls lay limb on my shoulders and back. I remembered my mother rocking me to sleep on the rocking chair and humming softly. She would use a single finger to brush my hair and kiss me on the forehead softly. She would tell me she loved me. She would have said I was a beautiful gift from heaven. She said she was lucky to have me. Didn't she think that anymore? Why did Kusukusu leave when my wish wasn't complete?

You shouldn't be here in the first place.

Maybe I didn't belong here. Maybe I wasn't good enough for them anymore.

"Rima?" I heard someone start crawling next to me. I shot up and raced out of the house.

I could accept the fact they didn't love me anymore. I could accept the fact they didn't want me anymore.

What I couldn't accept was the fact he had seen everything. He had heard everything. He was there when my mother had disowned me, and when I was humiliated.

He had witnessed the torture I was being put through. The torture I wanted no one else in the world to see or ever endure, or else it would rip the living daylight out of their existence.

He had seen my parents' anger.

He had seen my fear, my shame.

He had seen everything I had hid since I moved here.

The slaps, the words, the fear and anguish.

It was a daily routine, but it had only happened in the house.

The yelling, the door slamming, the crashing and smacking and shattering glass things on the tile floors. It was disaster after disaster after disaster.

And no one knew about it but me.

The victim of it all.

Sometimes, I was stuck in the middle. They would yell at me and make me take sides in arguments I never wanted to be in. When I was younger, I tried to help them, fix their problems. But after a while, the hitting and pain physically and emotionally, I realized there was nothing I could do to help. And when I told someone, no one would help. They grew afraid and pitied me because I couldn't have a normal, healthy family like their own.

I hated it.

I decided friends were unnecessary, and when I did slowly become friends with Amu, I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't tell her about what my house was really like, because I was afraid she'd push me away too.

I feared love.

I feared emotions.

And I feared to try.

So, when all else failed, I turned to run.

But this time, someone stopped me.

Because he was the witness to it all.

Fujisaki Nagihiko was stopping me.

.

Trapped!~

Stuck!~

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"RIMA!" I felt someone grab my arm and made me stop my running.

"Get away from me!"

"I won't."

"Are you some kind of retard? I want to be left alone!"

"You know I can't do that."

"Stubborn cross-dresser! You can't help me, so just let me go!"

"You're bleeding…"

That's when I noticed the red water dripping off my lips. The slap was so hard my nose was bleeding.

"M-mama…" I whimpered. She had never done that, now that I think about it. She had never come into my room and shrieked at me. She would have just glared at me, or called me stupid, but she would never have said those things to me.

She had never told me to die.

She used to love me, so what had changed?

Did she just stop because she realized I was too much trouble? Because she couldn't take up the responsibilities? Because I was something that just came out of her and that's it?

My mother gave me something when I was born. She gave me her nose and her eyes. My father had given me his strong chin and his stubbornness. They gave me life and love and care and a special hope in myself. Now that they didn't want me, would they take those away? Would they just give me back?

"Rima," a soothing voice said. "It's okay."

"This is everything but okay!" I shouted and squirmed in his arms. His breath caught on my neck and I shuddered. He turned me around and stared at me with this pretty honey eyes. I looked away.

That's when he told me something I didn't expect to hear. In this situation and from this boy.

He said I was pretty.

My eyes were probably puffy from crying and my hands were cold. My hair was damp from the rain and my eyes were probably dead from emotion. My body was shaking and I wasn't wearing any shoes.

But he said I was pretty.

He said he loved me.

And he meant it.

He hugged me and I started to cry in his shirt, my hands hammering in his chest. I cried and wailed and screeched and pulled at his hair. But he let me use him as my own personal punching bag. He held me still and stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. He told me everything was going to be alright all that time I denied it in his shirt. He said he loved me no matter what my parents did or how much I hated him back.

I called him names.

I beated him and swore loudly and mournfully.

I made strange chocking noises from all the rain and tears.

But he still loved me and thought I was pretty.

.

In my eyes,

I am nothing.

In your eyes

I am

Everything.

.

Is he some kind of retard?

.

.

.

Does he understand what I'm being put through?

My parents gave me life.

They were the ones who guided me and taught me how to live.

They were the most important teachers I could have, they were my instructors for life.

Even when I was an adult, they'd still tell me to clean up my own house, or they'd probably lecture me on how to drive the car and not to crash into things.

They'd probably tell me to look for kids who don't look both ways across the street or remind me to study if I went to a far away university.

They'd probably tell me to get a job that would make me happy and give me enough to live with comfort.

They'd tell me to follow my heart wherever I was and trust instincts and maps, not GPSs.

And for those things, I was grateful.

If they would ever happen, that is.

My parents were like the shining North Star, or the sun in the shining sky. They were the battery that kept the clock ticking or the engine that kept the plane in the air. They were the bulb that kept the projector from burning out and the book mark kept in the book.

But without them, what would I be? Where would I be?

So, when they told me they didn't want me anymore, it hurt a lot.

It hurt that they didn't want to keep me complete anymore.

I hated it.

I wanted them to love me again.

I don't even know why Kusukusu left to go back in my heart.

Nothing happened. Nothing changed. I was still sad and lonely and had a dream that was never fulfilled.

But before she left, she told me I had already found someone to make them happy. She said that person would love me until the day I died, no matter what happened. She said because that was enough, her job was done and she didn't need to be with me anymore.

She said I had found a special someone who would help me through it all.

I don't think she lied, she must have been truthful.

She said it wouldn't be obvious, but I had to think harder.

She said to keep smiling no matter what my parents did, and they'd soon realize there was nothing left to argue about.

. · . · .

Tears

Leave Trails

Everywhere we

Go

. · . · .

I had stopped crying.

I knew it, but I denied it.

Because he was a retard, I never considered him.

But now I know who that special someone is.

My special person,

Is the type of person

That comes knocking at your door

And never stops.

That's what makes my special person

A

Retard.

But I'm really grateful for it.

Now it's time to face those other retards in my life,

And show them

They might not deserve me,

But maybe it's not because I'm not enough for them.

They're not good enough

For me

Like

He is.

"Nagihiko Fujisaki, you really are stupid."

He chuckled. "I know."

T.T

What A Retard...


I hope you all enjoyed it :D

I meant this story to be a humoress at the begining, but I started to want to make it feel sad.

And about the ending, let's just assume Nagi beat the living shit out of Rima's parents, 'kay? ;D

I wrote this from my own experience with my parents.

No, they didn't disown me, and I don't think... ah, I don't know what they think.

They just had some pretty bad fights and were this close to divorce.

One thing about parents who fight;

They scare the living daylights out of you.

All the constant yelling and fighting,

I remember I hid under the bed when I was little and wished the awful sounds would leave me alone.

Especially people who have parents like Rima, sometimes they get dramatized for life.

I still have nightmares, but everything's fine now.

Another word of advice;

If your parents divorce, it won't be for a small reason.

It would have been for quite a large scale reason to seperate, so when they do divorce, don't try to fix thier problems, because we, kids, can't.

The only thing we can do, is help both of them seperatly, comfort them, calm their stressed emotions, do your homework, brush your teeth like you're supposed to, and smile.

That's right, smile a lot.

Even when they're sad, tell them to smile with you, because just one smile can make anyone's day.

And soon, your parents will start to feel better. It doesn't always fix things, but it sure makes a difference in the world. :D

Thank's Giving reminded me of how lucky I am to have good parents (that don't fight like Rima's parents...)

Okay, I'm blabbing on uncontrollably, and most of you probably are lucky enough to not endure this, so I hope you enjoyed this!

(You too, Riri-chi!)

-NW :3