Day 80 - And here I am left in silence
I'm not doing a sheet today. I think what I need to write is a bit more important than the same boring things over and over again.
[OOC: Some self-harm descriptors and talk about suicide and other trauma below the cut. Critique on just the writing is appreciated.]
Last night sucked. After Kakashi and I talked, I tried to read, but I couldn't focus on anything for more than a few pages. I went for a short walk, like I used to do back at home before everything happened. It didn't clear my head either. By the time I got back to my room, it was after pill time and I didn't have the energy to go to the nurse's station to take my sleeping pill.
I didn't sleep well. Once I finally did get to sleep, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that I was at some other hospital and there was this girl there who was obsessed with me for some reason. She kept trying to get me to pay attention to her, even though I just wanted to stay in my room and talk to the few people there that I liked. And then dinner came. When we were all eating, she'd somehow managed to get her hands on a razor blade. This girl cut giant X's into her skin, pulled the layers back, and screamed at me. It's probably good that I don't really remember what she was screaming, just that dream me was too scared to move. I could just stand there and watch as she bled and pulled her arms apart in pieces. It took far too long for someone to get her and sedate her. As they did, she threw chunks of herself at me. They splatted against my skin and left bloody marks.
Afterwards, when I went to wash the blood off, it wouldn't go away. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the blood just stayed there, staining my skin until it started to move and shifted to look like my scars.
I think I screamed as I woke up and ran to throw up. I hope it didn't wake Keiichi up or make him scared as well. Now I can't close my eyes without those dream images mixing in my head with Tsuzuki, dead and bleeding even all over the note he left for me. I remember what the note said, but I can't find it. Did it get thrown away with all of the garbage from the fire? I hope not. Even though it was stained and just a small piece of paper, it's the only thing I have that belonged to him.
It's the only proof I have that he was real and not simply someone I made up for a few days. It was such a short time that part of me wants to think that he was just a figment of my imagination, a hallucination that gave me something to believe in for a while before disappearing in the most painful possible way. But at the same time, I know he was real, I know everyone here was torn about whether or not he was good or just some creep that would hurt me all over again. The first person I ever instantly trusted and everyone took him away from me! As much as I know why they were scared and worried, couldn't they have taken a moment to talk to us and ask what we felt instead of simply jumping to terrible conclusions about the whole thing? Because of them, I never got to apologize for pushing him away the last time we talked. I never got to tell him that I liked him, that I wanted to help him like he helped me in such a short period of time.
And the people who hurt him and me are gone now. Wherever they are, I hope they pay some day for the pain they caused two people who did absolutely nothing wrong other than start to care for each other. I'm almost scared to go back to the real world because I don't want to come across people like that, people who will hear about the only person who's meant a damn to me in a possibly more than friendly way and think the worst about him and about me. We were both hurt by one very cruel, twisted person who deserves to die slowly for all of the things he's done.
Because of him, Tsuzuki was skinny and scared and not the sort of person I'm sure he could have been if he hadn't been twisted to kill the people closest to him. Because of him, I can never look at myself without remembering exactly what happened under the cherry tree and that bright red moon. I can never enjoy the night again without looking up at the moon and wondering if, some day when it's full, he'll be there to finish giving me the beautiful death he thinks I deserve. And he still walks free, still acts like he's the one trying to save lives and minds instead of the truth - that he's breaking the very people who trust him to heal them.
I want to think that the people here I've grown to trust aren't going to be anything like that. I want to trust them and think that they do want me to be healthy and get better and go live with Tatsumi or some other guardian instead of spending my time here in an isolated Russian asylum. But part of me is always nervous that they're going to hurt me or leave me. After all, every other person I've liked has done one or both of those. I don't want to be nervous about having them close to me, but I can't help it. Yuuko-san's the closest thing to a real mother I've ever had and yet I know she's here because she's not right either. The other people who know her don't seem to be here anymore, so I can't ask them more questions about what she can be like.
It's probably terrible that another patient is better to me than my own mother, but it's true. My own parents are not good people. They don't think I know some of their secrets, but I do. My dad was first married to my mom's sister. She got pregnant and had a daughter. Shortly after that, the baby disappeared and my aunt died strangely. I come from a small town. Pretty much everyone suspects what happened, but of course they won't talk about it when the most important family in town is around, just when I'm barely in earshot. After all, they barely consider me their son because of how I've always been.
I was supposed to be their good son, their heir to continue being part of the Kurosaki family that, once upon a time, supposedly saved the town from a snake demon. All of this importance for my family because of a story from hundreds of years ago that's probably not even true. Demons aren't real, unless you mean the human ones that treat people like property and ignore the obvious signs that something isn't right and their son should be seen by some sort of specialist instead of locking him up for parties, only giving him tutors so the other kids don't know that touch and sound can be strange, terrifying things instead of fun and kind.
Everything I was supposed to be has fallen flat because they were too stubborn to admit that I had a problem, even when I became old enough to read books I really wasn't supposed to when I walked to the library and night and learned the name for what's wrong. I could have been better at dealing with my stress points than I am, if they'd started helping me learn to cope when I was younger instead of treating me like a broken doll to throw into a small room and ignore almost all of the time. They only took me to the hospital after I was attacked because they didn't want to lose their precious heir. They only sent me here in the first place for the same reason. My mother was told she could never have another kid, so they couldn't risk losing me. But now that I'm here, they've lost me. I will never see them again and I don't think I can make myself forgive them for everything they did wrong. I am a person, not some vague thing they could try and mold, only to give up on when I didn't fit into their little plans.
I know that I'm stronger now than I was when I came here because of everyone I've met, even if they've ended up leaving me hurt for a time. I want to think that I can keep getting stronger, but how can I when the more I think about what may be in my future, the more afraid I get that everything's going to be worse and the angrier I get that I was so weak to begin with. Even though I'm still young, and I know I don't have to be as strong as an adult, I can't take care of myself or the people important to me if I'm constantly afraid and weak. I have to get stronger, but I don't know how.
[OOC: Some self-harm descriptors and talk about suicide and other trauma below the cut. Critique on just the writing is appreciated.]
Last night sucked. After Kakashi and I talked, I tried to read, but I couldn't focus on anything for more than a few pages. I went for a short walk, like I used to do back at home before everything happened. It didn't clear my head either. By the time I got back to my room, it was after pill time and I didn't have the energy to go to the nurse's station to take my sleeping pill.
I didn't sleep well. Once I finally did get to sleep, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that I was at some other hospital and there was this girl there who was obsessed with me for some reason. She kept trying to get me to pay attention to her, even though I just wanted to stay in my room and talk to the few people there that I liked. And then dinner came. When we were all eating, she'd somehow managed to get her hands on a razor blade. This girl cut giant X's into her skin, pulled the layers back, and screamed at me. It's probably good that I don't really remember what she was screaming, just that dream me was too scared to move. I could just stand there and watch as she bled and pulled her arms apart in pieces. It took far too long for someone to get her and sedate her. As they did, she threw chunks of herself at me. They splatted against my skin and left bloody marks.
Afterwards, when I went to wash the blood off, it wouldn't go away. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the blood just stayed there, staining my skin until it started to move and shifted to look like my scars.
I think I screamed as I woke up and ran to throw up. I hope it didn't wake Keiichi up or make him scared as well. Now I can't close my eyes without those dream images mixing in my head with Tsuzuki, dead and bleeding even all over the note he left for me. I remember what the note said, but I can't find it. Did it get thrown away with all of the garbage from the fire? I hope not. Even though it was stained and just a small piece of paper, it's the only thing I have that belonged to him.
It's the only proof I have that he was real and not simply someone I made up for a few days. It was such a short time that part of me wants to think that he was just a figment of my imagination, a hallucination that gave me something to believe in for a while before disappearing in the most painful possible way. But at the same time, I know he was real, I know everyone here was torn about whether or not he was good or just some creep that would hurt me all over again. The first person I ever instantly trusted and everyone took him away from me! As much as I know why they were scared and worried, couldn't they have taken a moment to talk to us and ask what we felt instead of simply jumping to terrible conclusions about the whole thing? Because of them, I never got to apologize for pushing him away the last time we talked. I never got to tell him that I liked him, that I wanted to help him like he helped me in such a short period of time.
And the people who hurt him and me are gone now. Wherever they are, I hope they pay some day for the pain they caused two people who did absolutely nothing wrong other than start to care for each other. I'm almost scared to go back to the real world because I don't want to come across people like that, people who will hear about the only person who's meant a damn to me in a possibly more than friendly way and think the worst about him and about me. We were both hurt by one very cruel, twisted person who deserves to die slowly for all of the things he's done.
Because of him, Tsuzuki was skinny and scared and not the sort of person I'm sure he could have been if he hadn't been twisted to kill the people closest to him. Because of him, I can never look at myself without remembering exactly what happened under the cherry tree and that bright red moon. I can never enjoy the night again without looking up at the moon and wondering if, some day when it's full, he'll be there to finish giving me the beautiful death he thinks I deserve. And he still walks free, still acts like he's the one trying to save lives and minds instead of the truth - that he's breaking the very people who trust him to heal them.
I want to think that the people here I've grown to trust aren't going to be anything like that. I want to trust them and think that they do want me to be healthy and get better and go live with Tatsumi or some other guardian instead of spending my time here in an isolated Russian asylum. But part of me is always nervous that they're going to hurt me or leave me. After all, every other person I've liked has done one or both of those. I don't want to be nervous about having them close to me, but I can't help it. Yuuko-san's the closest thing to a real mother I've ever had and yet I know she's here because she's not right either. The other people who know her don't seem to be here anymore, so I can't ask them more questions about what she can be like.
It's probably terrible that another patient is better to me than my own mother, but it's true. My own parents are not good people. They don't think I know some of their secrets, but I do. My dad was first married to my mom's sister. She got pregnant and had a daughter. Shortly after that, the baby disappeared and my aunt died strangely. I come from a small town. Pretty much everyone suspects what happened, but of course they won't talk about it when the most important family in town is around, just when I'm barely in earshot. After all, they barely consider me their son because of how I've always been.
I was supposed to be their good son, their heir to continue being part of the Kurosaki family that, once upon a time, supposedly saved the town from a snake demon. All of this importance for my family because of a story from hundreds of years ago that's probably not even true. Demons aren't real, unless you mean the human ones that treat people like property and ignore the obvious signs that something isn't right and their son should be seen by some sort of specialist instead of locking him up for parties, only giving him tutors so the other kids don't know that touch and sound can be strange, terrifying things instead of fun and kind.
Everything I was supposed to be has fallen flat because they were too stubborn to admit that I had a problem, even when I became old enough to read books I really wasn't supposed to when I walked to the library and night and learned the name for what's wrong. I could have been better at dealing with my stress points than I am, if they'd started helping me learn to cope when I was younger instead of treating me like a broken doll to throw into a small room and ignore almost all of the time. They only took me to the hospital after I was attacked because they didn't want to lose their precious heir. They only sent me here in the first place for the same reason. My mother was told she could never have another kid, so they couldn't risk losing me. But now that I'm here, they've lost me. I will never see them again and I don't think I can make myself forgive them for everything they did wrong. I am a person, not some vague thing they could try and mold, only to give up on when I didn't fit into their little plans.
I know that I'm stronger now than I was when I came here because of everyone I've met, even if they've ended up leaving me hurt for a time. I want to think that I can keep getting stronger, but how can I when the more I think about what may be in my future, the more afraid I get that everything's going to be worse and the angrier I get that I was so weak to begin with. Even though I'm still young, and I know I don't have to be as strong as an adult, I can't take care of myself or the people important to me if I'm constantly afraid and weak. I have to get stronger, but I don't know how.