FicWad

Yoshi brushed his long wine-coloured hair away from his face and sighed. He shifted awkwardly on his bed, being careful not to knock his paints over. He rolled his sleeves up a little higher, carefully avoiding any contact with his lower arms. His brown eyes briefly skimmed over his surroundings as he took his pencil from between his teeth and sketched a few more details onto the page. He could hear a faint sound; drums being played. He sighed. He knew that that meant Hoshi was worse. He could hear her playing with all her heart and soul. And he knew that she wanted him to hear.

Hoshi threw herself onto her own bed moments later, her violent sobs causing her fragile body to shake furiously. She wanted it. She wanted to inflict pain upon herself. But she couldn't. She sat up.
"Pathetic piece of crap," she hissed, glaring at the mirror that was now in front of her, covering the wall. Disgusted by the sight of her own face, the girl grabbed the closest item to her - a television remote control - and, with all her might, sent it flying through the air until it collided full force with the mirror, which smashed violently, loudly. The crashing could be heard from down the corridor, and a concerned Yoshi came stumbling into his sister's bedroom, panting and covered in paint.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked frantically, desperately, watching his sister with fear in his eyes. The girl with purple eyes stared at the mess that was in front of her. Yoshi followed her gaze and his mouth opened when he noticed what had happened to the mirror. "What happened?" he whispered, taking a few small steps towards his sister. Right before his eyes, the mask that had been cracking shattered. It just shattered. He could see the panic and desperation in Hoshi's eyes as she desperately tried to act tough again. He could see her trying so hard to glue her mask back together so that she could laugh it off. She also knew, however, that Yoshi would never forget what he has just seen. He wasn't used to seeing Hoshi act this way. Ever since they were young children, Yoshi had been the weak one. Their younger sister, Yumi, had always, somehow, been the toughest.

"I want to go home," Hoshi murmured as Yoshi wrapped his arms around her. "I don't want to be here. I want to go home,"
"Sh, Hoshi. It's okay. We've got everything we ever wanted her," Yoshi lied through his teeth, forcing out words that make him feel incredibly sick.
"It's not," Hoshi said, glancing at Yoshi's face. Both were crying openly now, holding one another tightly in a smothering, suffocating embrace. Their expressions were desperate and hopeful as the walls around them seemed to trap them in suffering and hopelessness. The fear of the unknown, the fear of the future that they hadn't asked for was swallowing them up. They were children. They were innocent and defenceless, trying so hard to be mature, to be adults. But they were inexperienced and lost. They hadn't been thrown into this new world, this new outlook. They'd been fucking hurled into it, forced into something that they could not grasp.
"We'll be okay here, Hoshi. You'll be okay. We just need to get used to things around here," Yoshi whispered. He wanted to convince them both that they still had a chance to fix things.
"We won't be okay, Yoshi. Please, stop lying," Hoshi's voice was almost inaudible.
"We will be. You're okay, I'm okay-" Yoshi was cut of by a frowning Hoshi.
"If you're so okay, Yoshi, then why do you cut yourself?"