Categories > Anime/Manga > Beyblade
These things I'll never say
1 reviewShe couldn't tell him of what had happened - she could only leave, taking the most precious gift, away from him. Years after they reunite and he learns the level of her deception - he's taking no p...
0Unrated
Hello all! I am back with now my 3rd fic! After being bored stiff, yet again, with revision, this one jumped upon me begging to be written - so I can only obey the mighty will of Fanfiction! Slightly different from the way I like to write or the genre I like to read, this was quite an experimental piece - hopefully it has turned out fairly well! Well we all love RayXMariah loving, but I need plot before I come to fluff! So, I am sorry for the depressing beginning!
And off we go!
Disclaimer: I own nothing TT-TT, except a few ideas - so don't sue... please!
_______________________________________
These things I'll never say: Prologue
Cleaning the playroom after a hard day of work, the pinkette closed her eyes in exhaustion. It was hard work being a mother and a working mom at that; but nonetheless very fulfilling, especially with a baby as sweet as she had, the small form tucked away under warm covers, a gentle smile gracing their face. An equally small hand grasped the edge of the heavy, satin covered duvet, seeming to pull it up and almost shrink underneath, away from the night. The other was wrapped snugly around a toffee coloured teddy bear; the softness of the fur and the genial smile made it the perfect bedtime companion for any child with worries about the dark isolation of their own bed.
She smiled indulgently, as she yet again bent to pick up the toys scattered across the floor, and wipe down little accidents of spilled juice. How that child managed to make such a mess, was beyond her! Yet the walls, floor and shelves full of toys and bedtimes stories, were spotlessly clean due to her meticulous maintenance. At least one job was fairly easy for her; the laminate birch made sure there were no stains and was wiped down with anti-bacterial cleaners with no trouble, so her darling would not be under threat from stomach upsets or the like.
The mellow light from the dimmed light to keep the bogey-man at bay gave a comforting and soothing glow, as it reflected off the cornflour yellow walls, covered with gay motifs of fieldmice running to their toadstool homes and frolicking under bright dandelions. She sighed softly, brushing a wayward roseate strand from her eyes before turning over an upturned picture frame. Her clear amber eyes widened at the seemingly harmless image framed within, a perfect match for the cosy room. She would have never placed such a symbolic picture there – her nanny must have found it from trawling through old photo albums, and placed it in the room as decoration.
She remembered, her eyes closing over, the rolling green pastures and bright flower-covered fields well. The fresh smell that rose from trampled grass, teasing the nostrils with the spice of summer. The bright yellow and red wildflowers, all tossing their heads at a little coaxing from the zephyr passing through, and bright beetles, sunlight shining viridian off their open wings, placing kisses on the shyly anticipating blossoms. Merely closing here eyes, she could conjure up an image so vivid, it was as if she was standing there again - after all, it had all started there.
A small child, happy and carefree, bounded over the grass. It the silver-green blades swayed tickling the backs of her ankles, all amiable and welcoming their frequent visitor. Her short pink hair was tied cutely with a bow, making her look much like a cat, her name-sake, and she jumped over the knolls dotted around with all the feline grace of one. The one she was meeting was sat still, his whole being centred and concentrated; not paying heed to the fact that the breeze blowing was tugging insistently on the thin white garments he wore. His face was screwed up in concentration, thick black lashes pressing against sculpted cheekbones – yet to be uncovered from under the babyfat. Yet even so, the bright sunlight beating down strongly highlighted his already handsome features.
The girl turned to him with twin apples in her cheeks,
“Ray-kun, arigatou! The flowers you sent to me were really pretty – mommy even put them in the vase we only take out for guests!”
She said puffing out her chest proudly. He smiled back, a suspicious colour tingeing his cheeks.
“It’s okay, ‘Riah,” he replied gently, “I saw them when I went exploring, and I thought they were nearly as pretty as you, so -”
He cut himself off hastily, realising his omission too late. He flushed deeply, as did his young female friend, both too embarrassed at that point, to even look at each other.
“Uh…Mariah?” he asked consciously, after an awkward pause, “You’re not mad at me are you? Because I reeaaalllyy like you and still want to be friends an’ all…” he drifted off as she nodded enthusiastically, wondering if all that shaking was going to actually take her pretty little head off!
“It’s okay Ray-kun! I like you too! You’re a really good friend that I look up to so, I couldn’t be mad! Not ever and never and never and….”
He grinned at her reassurances, watching as she seemed to chant for a good few minutes, before starting to chat amicably, as usual. All was normal, yet now, there was an unspoken agreement between the two, that their hearts were pledged to the other from here on in.
It was this pledge in fact, that caused many stuttering and blushing moments between the two as they blossomed into adulthood. The all to eager attitudes, the terribly concealed ‘glances’ and the moments of despair with thoughts of ‘what if they don’t feel like that anymore’ were the source of amusement to many villagers. When the drama did come to an end, after some discreet word between the two (prompted by some not so discreet nudges!), no-one was anything but happy for them. The sweetheart of all the folk, who went out of her way to go visit sick and lonely ‘grandmas’ and ‘grandpas’, or to give overstretched mother respite, had fallen hopelessly in love, and they wished her all the best.
They were the ideal example of childhood sweethearts growing into a loving young couple; yet there were some detractors, the most strong of which were her cousins and uncles. They disapproved of ‘that wild ruffian’ as they had dubbed him, his background and wealth not matching hers – the clan that ruled the village. Fortunately, they were blissfully unaware of all the opinions about them, and the whispered mutterings of a bitter few. In each other’s company, they could only think of the overwhelming joy and feeling of security and contentment – or so she had thought.
Of course all their most special trysts had been in that almost sacred field. The first time they had gone out together as an official couple. He had surprised her late at night, by throwing pebbles at her window, then beckoning her down. She had complied blushing, as only yesterday had he asked her to be with him. With a bento box, a warm blanket and each others company, they spent the night cuddled up, the moonlight bathing them with an ethereal glow, gazing at the stars in the clear sky and talking of their hopes and dreams.
Their first kiss had also been there – after a few weeks of shy hand-holding, she had turned her face up to him, like a flower reaching for the sun; and he, with a face of determination, had proceeded to tenderly kiss her senseless. Her mouth was dry and her pulse raced, as she felt clumsy but elated under his subtle persuasion. His warm breath on her face had been a delicious contrast to the cool wind blowing over their forms, and she had noticed how the air around them had been full of the sweet smell of nightly opening flowers, their soft fallen petals, brushing around them, chasing each other ins little flurries.
Then the first time he told her he loved her – and she had obviously reciprocated blushing up a storm; thinking herself to be the luckiest woman alive. She had let a few wayward tears of happiness escape, an he, sensing them had responded with extreme concern, telling her all that was wonderful about her. His further promise had been to show and tell her just how much she meant to him, every day. Sitting on his lap, bathed under the brightness of a full moon, she had thought that his words would stay true forever.
And of course their first time… no, not their, but certainly her first time – when she, wanting to show him the true extent of her love; had given him everything and joined with him in the most primal and instinctive way possible. She had been nervous, but oh so very happy, as he whispered sweet, soothing words of how she was worth more to him than anything in the world. At that point, despite having mud smeared on one cheek, pain from being torn from her first time, and sticky grass seed sticking to her hair, she felt she could take on the world. The very air around her had seemed to shimmer and sparkle, being a part of the magic that the two of them had just made. Wind whispered in hushed but joyful tones through their hair, through the silvery blades all round them, and each flower had looked to be dipped in mixture of liquid moonlight and diamonds, the droplets of dew reflecting light a thousand times over.
Ironically, though it was yet another first in that verdant field, it was one of her last times there. Soon after, she found him becoming distant and uncomfortable around her. It was an alien feeling, as they had been the closest since childhood, and she was not sure how to deal with it. Suspicions and worries arose again – at least on her part; yet she quelled them with reminders that he was under a lot of stress – preparing for university exams was by no means an easy task; and surely, after that… that heavenly night, he could not be jealous of her contact with other men – as that had been the only disagreement between them. For it was a well known fact she had eyes for him only – even if it meant overlooking herself.
And indeed, that is exactly what she had been doing, worrying about him and why he was behaving in such a way, she forgot to take care of herself. She found herself unable to eat, the very sight of food binging a strange queasiness to her stomach. Then there were sleepless nights, where she got tangled amongst the sheets, drenched in cold sweat, from nightmares when she did drift off. Her body-clock started to go wrong, with no period, a common side-effect of stress. Eventually, when this illness progressed to vomiting, she was sent to see the doctor, as her stomach refused to keep down anything that was not liquid or raw fruit or strangely, fish. Even though her condition seemed fairly serious, she left for her appointment mostly in a daze, worrying more about why he being cold, and if he was okay.
At the surgery, the indifferent whitewashed walls seemed to close in on her, as she finally took the time to think about herself. She fidgeted nervously under the supercilious glower of the receptionist, half-moon frames placed primly on a pointed nose, above a small, mean, mouth. Once inside the doctor’s room some shrewd questions were directed at her. She responded honestly, growing increasingly more uneasy as to the direction his assumptions were heading. Her palms became clammy and she clutched the hem of her shirt, trying to seek comfort from anything. Eventually, she was left with one glaringly obvious reason for her deterioration in health. The tests were carried out quickly and efficiently by an impersonal nurse, yet even she was judgmental, her mouth pursed tightly, and her condemning eyes would have had a lesser woman bowing her head in shame. And she – used to loving smiles and adoring looks, was heavily affected by this. Her mood became grey and storm clouds gathered ominously, as she looked out of the window to distract herself.
She was left to wait, biting her lips with anxiousness. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her stomach cramped, as if snakes within had started writhing and coiling over each other, ‘please let it not be that, please let it not be positive’ she begged up to the forces above. Eventually she was ushered through to a private room, where a nurse sat ready for her, with a sombre face.
The results were positive - she was pregnant.
She felt her whole body become numb and barely heard the clatter of her handbags contents falling all over the floor. It fitted so perfectly, and she felt distinctly dizzy at her stupidity for not realising earlier – yet it had only been the one time, and she hadn’t expected that… Her eyes glazed over as the thudding of her heart faded to nothing and she swayed forwards onto the desk catching herself from hitting her head just in time.
Her immediate reaction was one of panic – how could she have a baby, she was a little more than a child herself! And her future? At sixteen, she had the brains, drive and capability to get herself far in any profession of her choice, but not with having to care for a baby as well. Then family and friends – what would they think? They lived, after all, in a close knit community, and everyone would know in couple of weeks – especially when she stared to show; and despite their care for her; people talked.
Despite all these anxious thoughts, she knew, in her heart that she could not go for abortion – the life growing inside her was special and a gift, and a piece of him. She could not callously suck an unborn foetus from her womb, with all the protecting fluid and throw it in the garbage – as surgeons at such clinics did; neither could she have the baby cut into pieces inside her, hen pulled out through a small incision. No, she would keep the baby at all costs, and it was her duty as a mother to protect it.
The only comforting factor, for the sweet pinkette; despite his recently cool attitude, was that she knew he would help and support her – he loved her, he had said so many a time; and now, shown her too, by creating a child with her. He may go off to University, but he would certainly make sure that she was well cared for – it was one of the things she loved most about him.
She had gone to the ‘park’ as it was affectionately known, to try and sort her thoughts out, and think of what to do. She had been hopeless on the latter front, but she could not stay longer. By now, due to her musings, dusk had fallen, and only the very bravest rays of light dared to poke through, giving gloomy light, as it was filtered by the heavy rain-clouds. She shivered in the light clothing she wore; the cold hard bench within the shelter did nothing to alleviate the increasing chill. A light drizzle began, coating her roseate locks with film of silver. Yet no notice was taken, as she shook them back and she made for his house – the time was right for him to be there now, and now more than ever, she needed him. She needed to feel his calm presence, the comforting feel of his arms holding her in a tight cocoon away from the harmful forces of the world. She needed his love, and the assurance that he would stick by her in this difficult time.
The rain steadily increased and so did her speed, until she was sprinting towards her destination. Turning into his street, she saw the tawny glare of headlights – that was his car; one of the few in the small village bought for tough mountain terrain, bought with money from winning the championships. She smiled, remembering his immense pride at the automobile, when it had arrived - it had been the talk of the villagers for weeks. Taking a breath in to call out his name, she saw him get out; with a red-haired woman clinging to him. He too looked as if he was hanging on for dear life, their lips meeting often and frenziedly. He held her close, pulling her flush against him, desperately trying to get more of her essence in any way possible. She pushed him away slightly, pulling him to the door, while he looked at her with darkened eyes, his hands all over her at once. They quickly disappeared inside, dragging each other as fast as possible, the clothes starting to come off, even before they had entered the shelter of his house.
She brought a rain-drenched hand to her mouth to stop the wail of anguish, as she inwardly shattered. Her heart literally ache with ever beat, as it seemed to smash against her breastbone. Each breath of air felt like inhaling fire to her, catching painfully in her throat. So… he didn’t love her – he couldn’t because he certainly never looked at her with such need and desire, nor kissed her with such passion – even when they had… She muffled a sob with her hands, her warm tears mixing with the cool rain, the pain of them burning behind her eyes, and blocking her throat, her whole body shaking with the effort of staying quiet. He couldn't know she knew - she would not be humiliated so.
There was no way she could tell him now – it would be unfair to expect him to support a child born out of a relationship he did not enjoy. Not to mention that she would be ostracised, known as the local slut, in their conservative society. Her baby would also have to bear the insults and taunting due to that and she could not allow that to happen. But neither could she run away and support herself and the child in the manner she was used to living in - or the manner a baby should be brought up in. No,that was not the right option, nonetheless, stuck between a rock and a hard place, it was her only option - to leave while no-one knew, and try and eke a life out for the two of them.
That had been years ago, and one of the most heartbreaking decisions she had had to make, to leave her love, her life, her friends and family. And even now, despite being hardened by seeing some of the worst the world had to offer, the wound still cut deep. Fruitlessly brushing tears from her eyes, Mariah crumpled to the playroom floor and wept. Her wracking sobs were the only sound that drifted off across the night, the sound of loneliness, desperation, suffering and betrayal.
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I wish the ending were more Nyappy, but that's the way it goes - it will get better though, that I promise. This was a bit of background that needed to be done quickly, so I’m sorry if the level of detail was not as much as you’d like – it’s not as much as I would, but the chapter has sucked me dry of detail – but it shall be back with vengeance for following ones! .
Another note is that the use of He and She all the way through the flashback was intentional - it gets a bit monotonous, but I wanted a sort of montage effect and it worked pretty well in kare kano - the anime.
In addition to this, this will only be continued on response - so if you guys hate it, I shall take it down, and this story shall never see the light of day again!
Last point, I have decided to put a special literary device in each chapter, that was consciously done. If you can spot and name it, the next chappie will be dedicated to you!
Please review! They make me go round grinning like a maniac, and inspire me to write more. And if you must flame, please leave a valid reason for hating the story - if it helps me grow as a writer, I have no problem with the criticism.
Thanks all! Ja
And off we go!
Disclaimer: I own nothing TT-TT, except a few ideas - so don't sue... please!
_______________________________________
These things I'll never say: Prologue
Cleaning the playroom after a hard day of work, the pinkette closed her eyes in exhaustion. It was hard work being a mother and a working mom at that; but nonetheless very fulfilling, especially with a baby as sweet as she had, the small form tucked away under warm covers, a gentle smile gracing their face. An equally small hand grasped the edge of the heavy, satin covered duvet, seeming to pull it up and almost shrink underneath, away from the night. The other was wrapped snugly around a toffee coloured teddy bear; the softness of the fur and the genial smile made it the perfect bedtime companion for any child with worries about the dark isolation of their own bed.
She smiled indulgently, as she yet again bent to pick up the toys scattered across the floor, and wipe down little accidents of spilled juice. How that child managed to make such a mess, was beyond her! Yet the walls, floor and shelves full of toys and bedtimes stories, were spotlessly clean due to her meticulous maintenance. At least one job was fairly easy for her; the laminate birch made sure there were no stains and was wiped down with anti-bacterial cleaners with no trouble, so her darling would not be under threat from stomach upsets or the like.
The mellow light from the dimmed light to keep the bogey-man at bay gave a comforting and soothing glow, as it reflected off the cornflour yellow walls, covered with gay motifs of fieldmice running to their toadstool homes and frolicking under bright dandelions. She sighed softly, brushing a wayward roseate strand from her eyes before turning over an upturned picture frame. Her clear amber eyes widened at the seemingly harmless image framed within, a perfect match for the cosy room. She would have never placed such a symbolic picture there – her nanny must have found it from trawling through old photo albums, and placed it in the room as decoration.
She remembered, her eyes closing over, the rolling green pastures and bright flower-covered fields well. The fresh smell that rose from trampled grass, teasing the nostrils with the spice of summer. The bright yellow and red wildflowers, all tossing their heads at a little coaxing from the zephyr passing through, and bright beetles, sunlight shining viridian off their open wings, placing kisses on the shyly anticipating blossoms. Merely closing here eyes, she could conjure up an image so vivid, it was as if she was standing there again - after all, it had all started there.
A small child, happy and carefree, bounded over the grass. It the silver-green blades swayed tickling the backs of her ankles, all amiable and welcoming their frequent visitor. Her short pink hair was tied cutely with a bow, making her look much like a cat, her name-sake, and she jumped over the knolls dotted around with all the feline grace of one. The one she was meeting was sat still, his whole being centred and concentrated; not paying heed to the fact that the breeze blowing was tugging insistently on the thin white garments he wore. His face was screwed up in concentration, thick black lashes pressing against sculpted cheekbones – yet to be uncovered from under the babyfat. Yet even so, the bright sunlight beating down strongly highlighted his already handsome features.
The girl turned to him with twin apples in her cheeks,
“Ray-kun, arigatou! The flowers you sent to me were really pretty – mommy even put them in the vase we only take out for guests!”
She said puffing out her chest proudly. He smiled back, a suspicious colour tingeing his cheeks.
“It’s okay, ‘Riah,” he replied gently, “I saw them when I went exploring, and I thought they were nearly as pretty as you, so -”
He cut himself off hastily, realising his omission too late. He flushed deeply, as did his young female friend, both too embarrassed at that point, to even look at each other.
“Uh…Mariah?” he asked consciously, after an awkward pause, “You’re not mad at me are you? Because I reeaaalllyy like you and still want to be friends an’ all…” he drifted off as she nodded enthusiastically, wondering if all that shaking was going to actually take her pretty little head off!
“It’s okay Ray-kun! I like you too! You’re a really good friend that I look up to so, I couldn’t be mad! Not ever and never and never and….”
He grinned at her reassurances, watching as she seemed to chant for a good few minutes, before starting to chat amicably, as usual. All was normal, yet now, there was an unspoken agreement between the two, that their hearts were pledged to the other from here on in.
It was this pledge in fact, that caused many stuttering and blushing moments between the two as they blossomed into adulthood. The all to eager attitudes, the terribly concealed ‘glances’ and the moments of despair with thoughts of ‘what if they don’t feel like that anymore’ were the source of amusement to many villagers. When the drama did come to an end, after some discreet word between the two (prompted by some not so discreet nudges!), no-one was anything but happy for them. The sweetheart of all the folk, who went out of her way to go visit sick and lonely ‘grandmas’ and ‘grandpas’, or to give overstretched mother respite, had fallen hopelessly in love, and they wished her all the best.
They were the ideal example of childhood sweethearts growing into a loving young couple; yet there were some detractors, the most strong of which were her cousins and uncles. They disapproved of ‘that wild ruffian’ as they had dubbed him, his background and wealth not matching hers – the clan that ruled the village. Fortunately, they were blissfully unaware of all the opinions about them, and the whispered mutterings of a bitter few. In each other’s company, they could only think of the overwhelming joy and feeling of security and contentment – or so she had thought.
Of course all their most special trysts had been in that almost sacred field. The first time they had gone out together as an official couple. He had surprised her late at night, by throwing pebbles at her window, then beckoning her down. She had complied blushing, as only yesterday had he asked her to be with him. With a bento box, a warm blanket and each others company, they spent the night cuddled up, the moonlight bathing them with an ethereal glow, gazing at the stars in the clear sky and talking of their hopes and dreams.
Their first kiss had also been there – after a few weeks of shy hand-holding, she had turned her face up to him, like a flower reaching for the sun; and he, with a face of determination, had proceeded to tenderly kiss her senseless. Her mouth was dry and her pulse raced, as she felt clumsy but elated under his subtle persuasion. His warm breath on her face had been a delicious contrast to the cool wind blowing over their forms, and she had noticed how the air around them had been full of the sweet smell of nightly opening flowers, their soft fallen petals, brushing around them, chasing each other ins little flurries.
Then the first time he told her he loved her – and she had obviously reciprocated blushing up a storm; thinking herself to be the luckiest woman alive. She had let a few wayward tears of happiness escape, an he, sensing them had responded with extreme concern, telling her all that was wonderful about her. His further promise had been to show and tell her just how much she meant to him, every day. Sitting on his lap, bathed under the brightness of a full moon, she had thought that his words would stay true forever.
And of course their first time… no, not their, but certainly her first time – when she, wanting to show him the true extent of her love; had given him everything and joined with him in the most primal and instinctive way possible. She had been nervous, but oh so very happy, as he whispered sweet, soothing words of how she was worth more to him than anything in the world. At that point, despite having mud smeared on one cheek, pain from being torn from her first time, and sticky grass seed sticking to her hair, she felt she could take on the world. The very air around her had seemed to shimmer and sparkle, being a part of the magic that the two of them had just made. Wind whispered in hushed but joyful tones through their hair, through the silvery blades all round them, and each flower had looked to be dipped in mixture of liquid moonlight and diamonds, the droplets of dew reflecting light a thousand times over.
Ironically, though it was yet another first in that verdant field, it was one of her last times there. Soon after, she found him becoming distant and uncomfortable around her. It was an alien feeling, as they had been the closest since childhood, and she was not sure how to deal with it. Suspicions and worries arose again – at least on her part; yet she quelled them with reminders that he was under a lot of stress – preparing for university exams was by no means an easy task; and surely, after that… that heavenly night, he could not be jealous of her contact with other men – as that had been the only disagreement between them. For it was a well known fact she had eyes for him only – even if it meant overlooking herself.
And indeed, that is exactly what she had been doing, worrying about him and why he was behaving in such a way, she forgot to take care of herself. She found herself unable to eat, the very sight of food binging a strange queasiness to her stomach. Then there were sleepless nights, where she got tangled amongst the sheets, drenched in cold sweat, from nightmares when she did drift off. Her body-clock started to go wrong, with no period, a common side-effect of stress. Eventually, when this illness progressed to vomiting, she was sent to see the doctor, as her stomach refused to keep down anything that was not liquid or raw fruit or strangely, fish. Even though her condition seemed fairly serious, she left for her appointment mostly in a daze, worrying more about why he being cold, and if he was okay.
At the surgery, the indifferent whitewashed walls seemed to close in on her, as she finally took the time to think about herself. She fidgeted nervously under the supercilious glower of the receptionist, half-moon frames placed primly on a pointed nose, above a small, mean, mouth. Once inside the doctor’s room some shrewd questions were directed at her. She responded honestly, growing increasingly more uneasy as to the direction his assumptions were heading. Her palms became clammy and she clutched the hem of her shirt, trying to seek comfort from anything. Eventually, she was left with one glaringly obvious reason for her deterioration in health. The tests were carried out quickly and efficiently by an impersonal nurse, yet even she was judgmental, her mouth pursed tightly, and her condemning eyes would have had a lesser woman bowing her head in shame. And she – used to loving smiles and adoring looks, was heavily affected by this. Her mood became grey and storm clouds gathered ominously, as she looked out of the window to distract herself.
She was left to wait, biting her lips with anxiousness. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her stomach cramped, as if snakes within had started writhing and coiling over each other, ‘please let it not be that, please let it not be positive’ she begged up to the forces above. Eventually she was ushered through to a private room, where a nurse sat ready for her, with a sombre face.
The results were positive - she was pregnant.
She felt her whole body become numb and barely heard the clatter of her handbags contents falling all over the floor. It fitted so perfectly, and she felt distinctly dizzy at her stupidity for not realising earlier – yet it had only been the one time, and she hadn’t expected that… Her eyes glazed over as the thudding of her heart faded to nothing and she swayed forwards onto the desk catching herself from hitting her head just in time.
Her immediate reaction was one of panic – how could she have a baby, she was a little more than a child herself! And her future? At sixteen, she had the brains, drive and capability to get herself far in any profession of her choice, but not with having to care for a baby as well. Then family and friends – what would they think? They lived, after all, in a close knit community, and everyone would know in couple of weeks – especially when she stared to show; and despite their care for her; people talked.
Despite all these anxious thoughts, she knew, in her heart that she could not go for abortion – the life growing inside her was special and a gift, and a piece of him. She could not callously suck an unborn foetus from her womb, with all the protecting fluid and throw it in the garbage – as surgeons at such clinics did; neither could she have the baby cut into pieces inside her, hen pulled out through a small incision. No, she would keep the baby at all costs, and it was her duty as a mother to protect it.
The only comforting factor, for the sweet pinkette; despite his recently cool attitude, was that she knew he would help and support her – he loved her, he had said so many a time; and now, shown her too, by creating a child with her. He may go off to University, but he would certainly make sure that she was well cared for – it was one of the things she loved most about him.
She had gone to the ‘park’ as it was affectionately known, to try and sort her thoughts out, and think of what to do. She had been hopeless on the latter front, but she could not stay longer. By now, due to her musings, dusk had fallen, and only the very bravest rays of light dared to poke through, giving gloomy light, as it was filtered by the heavy rain-clouds. She shivered in the light clothing she wore; the cold hard bench within the shelter did nothing to alleviate the increasing chill. A light drizzle began, coating her roseate locks with film of silver. Yet no notice was taken, as she shook them back and she made for his house – the time was right for him to be there now, and now more than ever, she needed him. She needed to feel his calm presence, the comforting feel of his arms holding her in a tight cocoon away from the harmful forces of the world. She needed his love, and the assurance that he would stick by her in this difficult time.
The rain steadily increased and so did her speed, until she was sprinting towards her destination. Turning into his street, she saw the tawny glare of headlights – that was his car; one of the few in the small village bought for tough mountain terrain, bought with money from winning the championships. She smiled, remembering his immense pride at the automobile, when it had arrived - it had been the talk of the villagers for weeks. Taking a breath in to call out his name, she saw him get out; with a red-haired woman clinging to him. He too looked as if he was hanging on for dear life, their lips meeting often and frenziedly. He held her close, pulling her flush against him, desperately trying to get more of her essence in any way possible. She pushed him away slightly, pulling him to the door, while he looked at her with darkened eyes, his hands all over her at once. They quickly disappeared inside, dragging each other as fast as possible, the clothes starting to come off, even before they had entered the shelter of his house.
She brought a rain-drenched hand to her mouth to stop the wail of anguish, as she inwardly shattered. Her heart literally ache with ever beat, as it seemed to smash against her breastbone. Each breath of air felt like inhaling fire to her, catching painfully in her throat. So… he didn’t love her – he couldn’t because he certainly never looked at her with such need and desire, nor kissed her with such passion – even when they had… She muffled a sob with her hands, her warm tears mixing with the cool rain, the pain of them burning behind her eyes, and blocking her throat, her whole body shaking with the effort of staying quiet. He couldn't know she knew - she would not be humiliated so.
There was no way she could tell him now – it would be unfair to expect him to support a child born out of a relationship he did not enjoy. Not to mention that she would be ostracised, known as the local slut, in their conservative society. Her baby would also have to bear the insults and taunting due to that and she could not allow that to happen. But neither could she run away and support herself and the child in the manner she was used to living in - or the manner a baby should be brought up in. No,that was not the right option, nonetheless, stuck between a rock and a hard place, it was her only option - to leave while no-one knew, and try and eke a life out for the two of them.
That had been years ago, and one of the most heartbreaking decisions she had had to make, to leave her love, her life, her friends and family. And even now, despite being hardened by seeing some of the worst the world had to offer, the wound still cut deep. Fruitlessly brushing tears from her eyes, Mariah crumpled to the playroom floor and wept. Her wracking sobs were the only sound that drifted off across the night, the sound of loneliness, desperation, suffering and betrayal.
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I wish the ending were more Nyappy, but that's the way it goes - it will get better though, that I promise. This was a bit of background that needed to be done quickly, so I’m sorry if the level of detail was not as much as you’d like – it’s not as much as I would, but the chapter has sucked me dry of detail – but it shall be back with vengeance for following ones! .
Another note is that the use of He and She all the way through the flashback was intentional - it gets a bit monotonous, but I wanted a sort of montage effect and it worked pretty well in kare kano - the anime.
In addition to this, this will only be continued on response - so if you guys hate it, I shall take it down, and this story shall never see the light of day again!
Last point, I have decided to put a special literary device in each chapter, that was consciously done. If you can spot and name it, the next chappie will be dedicated to you!
Please review! They make me go round grinning like a maniac, and inspire me to write more. And if you must flame, please leave a valid reason for hating the story - if it helps me grow as a writer, I have no problem with the criticism.
Thanks all! Ja
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