Disclaimer: I'm not smart enough to come up with something as beautiful as Ib.

The picture for this fic isn't mine either. I found it on zerochan.

Open Your Eyes

It hurts.

It hurts so bad.

He couldn't take it anymore. He fell.

He clutched his chest tightly, taking a fistful of his shirt and gripping on to it like he never gripped anything before, as if he could dispel even a tiny bit of his unbearable pain into the shirt. He was like an atomic bomb; move even the slightest and he thinks his heart would explode in his chest. He didn't even have the energy to cry out in pain.

Somebody help me.

It hurts so bad.

I'm dying.

HELP ME!

And then, the voices came.

Come here, Garry.

We'll take the pain away.

You just have to stay here and play with us forever.

Is that so bad?

Be by my side.

SHUT UP.

He let out a gasp.

It was like someone was stabbing him in the back again and again. And again. And again.

A sharp intake of breath. A tighter grip on clothes.

He felt like he was burning.

His eyes were shut, bearing the pain together with him. He wouldn't be able to see anything if he opened them anyway.

He could feel his life being eaten away. Bit by bit.

Petal by petal.

It was that stupid blue woman in the painting.

Another stab. Another gasp for breath.

He was dying, and he knew it. The pain was taking its sweet time and pleasure cutting away all his senses, enjoying the torture it inflicted on him. His sense of touch disappeared, his hands losing its grip on his shirt and falling to the ground with a thump. He couldn't think straight. He was at his limit.

Another petal.

Another stab.

Another petal.

Another stab.

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. He was giving up.

It was the last petal.

He prepared himself for death.

And suddenly, the pain...vanished.

Just like that.

Huh?

He could feel warmth circulating his body again. His head stopped spinning so violently. His heart went loose. He took a deep breath.

His senses were coming back.

The feeling of his limbs were coming back.

His sanity was coming back.

He tried to move his fingers. He could. He moved his arms, wiggled his toes.

"Mister?"

A voice?

He opened his eyes...

...And saw her.

A/N: Personally I don't think it was as good as my piece on Mary, but the idea wouldn't leave my mind.

In case you didn't get the drift, this was when Ib was getting the blue rose away from the Blue Lady, when she found Garry lying on the ground in pain.

I'm still not sure if you spell it Gary or Garry. I'm pretty sure it's two 'r's though.

Reviews help Ib get closer to the happiest ending.