Everyone Bleeds

Chapter One

"Do you want to die?"

I blinked in rapid succession.

"Excuse me?"

His face contorted into its infamous scowl.

"Do you want to die or not?"

And that's where my life began; at the moment that question was posed. I'd like to say I led a fulfilling existence up until that point, that I contributed in some small sense to the world around me and that my life actually held meaning.

It didn't.

I was your typical damsel in distress who couldn't even protect her own internal body organs (commonly known as her heart) and spent day in and day out pining over the loss of her two best friends as she stared poetically into the blazing sunset with her sad teary eyes.

Yup. That was me.

I needed a life.

Unfortunately, this wonderful dawning of thought didn't occur to me until sometime after the fact I was dumped on Destiny Islands after being whisked away to worlds I didn't even know existed outside of my own little tropical bubble.

Excuse the impending tirade but I was tired of sitting on my scrawny little ass all day while Sora was out saving the universe and I could do nothing in my spare time but write angsty poetry and tan.

Talk about pathetic.

Before you write me off as a heartless snitch, understand that pent up anger and regret is all part of the so called grieving process. I think my vulgar riots were set off by none other than insane worry. Worry that they may be dead, worry that they may never come home, worry that they may simply move on and forget about me...

So yes, of course after the incident I was a train wreck. I cried my eyes out like any teenage girl hopelessly in love would do. I soaked the pillow, I bled my mascara, and I didn't even wash my hair for about a month.

Okay, maybe not a month.

But still, life was over as I knew it. My innocence was gone and I was left to pick up the pieces of a broken home. Yeah, I stared at the sunset. Yeah, I wrote the poetry. Yeah, I lost about fifteen pounds. But you would have too so I don't wanna hear it.

I think the foundation of this newly discovered rage was provoked by the fact I was becoming exactly what I never wanted to be, exactly what I was always perceived as. The tragic girl who was incapable of taking care of herself. The charity case. The sympathy ward. The poor thing that lost everything she had.

At first, it was comforting. Knowing people cared helped ease the pain. But after a month, reality hits you. The harshness of the situation finally sinks in and you realize no matter what anyone says, it won't bring them back.

And then you're stuck staring at the sunset realizing this and it can make you rather angry.

I was never a patient person. I couldn't wait for them forever. Yet I refused to give up on them. Those sunset dazes quickly turned from melodramatic occasions to fuming fits of pent up emotions. I knew I needed to help them, and I couldn't. I simply couldn't. There was no way off this island. Except for that raft.

The mere memory of the fun we shared building that thing made me burst out in tears and cry. Again.

And there I was. Sobbing my eyes out. You can't really blame me, but it's hideously embarrassing. Especially when you know darn well you're safe and sound. If anyone should be crying its Sora, who's facing the threshold of death every day.

Yeah, I try to hide my emotions, but I suck at it.

I'm devastated. Enraged. Sick with worry. The whole package deal.

I think I tried to write a poem about it once but it was crap.

Whoever said poetry is therapeutic should be shot. And I believe the supplier of that info was none other than Selphie...

I refuse to wallow is self pity. I refuse to let my friends die. I refuse to sit here and do nothing. I refuse a lot of things. But refusing gets you no where. Except to maybe a dock where you can pine over another sunset.

And that doesn't help matters any either.

So wiping my tears away for the kazillionth time, I glared intently at the water below, knowing I was as helpless as I looked. My contorted visage stared up at me, and I could do nothing but stare right back. I chose to obliterate the reflection by jabbing my foot through the image, sick of staring at the pale, ivory, doe eyed girl that is me.

I'm trying to build defenses. I'm trying to get on with my life. I'm trying to be all tough and sarcastic on the outside. It's not working. I'm still the measly sap of romantic goo I was always was, and nothing will ever change that. I can pretend all I want. It won't go away.

But God, I just don't want to be alone.

So I suppose that brings us up to the current day. Where my life was facing a threatening proposal of death and I wasn't doing so much as blinking an eye. I suppose I had finally become numb. Nothing could be worse than sitting on this God Forsaken island waiting for the ocean to swallow me up whole. Absolutely nothing.

Or so I thought.

But I was naïve then, more so than I will ever admit, and being whisked away by a guy threatening to kill me seemed like a divine intervention of the sort.

Did I know who he was? No.

Did I care?

All that mattered was I was going to go somewhere other than this. Somewhere hopefully closer to them…

When my so called captor realized he wasn't going to get an answer, he threw a weary glance over his shoulder, scanning the deserted beach for whoever was chasing him. Urgency chiseled into every feature of his face, he snatched my bony wrist and huskily whispered in my ear, "You're coming with me."

I knew better than to argue.

So there I was, being half dragged, half lugged down the beach that I had pranced upon so many times in my previous childhood. I guess you could consider this a kidnapping of sorts, though come to think of it I wasn't exactly protesting.

I believe my mind was racing at this point. I was in a state of physical shock but mentally I was screaming bloody murder. Who knew another routine trip to stare devotedly into the sunset would turn out to be such a harshly terminated endeavor?

Eventually my vocal chords decided to cooperate, and I found myself choking out the words, ". . .who?"

A sneer was thrown my way, a very intimidating one at that.

"Does it matter?"

I shook my head in response.

Does anything matter anymore?

His grasp on my wrist tightened firmly, and I could have sworn I heard my tendons cracking. Good Heavens, what had I just gotten myself into?

No one was in sight. It was as desolate and lonely as ever. Except for this ... thing ... dragging me down the beach. Now that I think about it, I suppose I could have screamed. Not that anyone would have heard me. But I could have at least made a feeble attempt. Though you and I both know, deep down, this was the best thing that could happen to me.

"Sora. . .?" I questioned.

I wasn't even capable of making a coherent sentence. No wonder my poetry sucked.

"Yeah, I know him," the man replied, still casting glances over his shoulder.

Oh score.

". . .and Riku?"

"Too well."

Who the hell was this guy?

"Will you...help me find them?"

"No offense sweetheart, but I don't think you want to."

I tore my arm away. For some reason, being called sweetheart from anyone other than Sora made my blood boil to quiet and alarming degree, and not many people are gifted in making my body temperature rise like he just did.

"I am not your sweetheart!" I snarled menacingly. Well, as menacingly as I knew how to be. I'm a little twig with doe eyes and pouty lips. Can't really say I've sent shivers down anyone's spine before.

"I'm sorry, but would you rather be left behind?"

"...no..."

"Then I'll call you whatever the hell I want."

He resumed his previous iron grasp around my wrist.

I felt the sharp tug of desperation as I was lugged forward yet again. I kept trying to steal glances under the massive hood my new acquaintance was shrouding himself under but it was to no avail. All I could make out was...well, nothing.

The creature's well defined lips submerged from under his disguise from time to time and I saw the hint of glistening white teeth—the kind you see on those perfected dental commercials for Crest Multi Care and the like. I knew nothing of the rest of his face, but from what I could tell his mouth was exceedingly attractive.

Sand was seeping into my sneakers as I stumbled down the beach to destination unknown. It was insanely uncomfortable but complaining to your kidnapper about bodily discomfort just seemed...wrong.

"Could you be any slower?"

I looked up through my disheveled bangs.

"Yes," I answered honestly.

He did ask, after all.

I couldn't see his eyes, but I could just imagine they were performing a mocking role in their sockets.

"Where are we going?" I finally managed to ask, clearing my throat numerous times before inquiring my captor.

"To my crappy ship."

Under normal circumstances, that response would have provoked some sort of amusement out of me, but considering I had just been taken hostage, humor ceased on the forerunner of my mind.

He was leading me off into the lushly populated foliage now; away form the sea side and the slowly distinguishing sunset.

"Ya know, I don't see anyone following us," I mused, adrenalin pumping through my veins regardless of the obvious lack of blood thirsty miscreants.

"They are," he responded, so sure of himself.

I suppose he knew better than me.

It was then that we reached a primitive clearing housing non other than the aforementioned "crappy ship" I was being blindly led to. And lemme tell you, the previous adjective could have won the understatement of the year. The metal scraps appeared to be held together by nothing more than super glue. I was half expecting him to whip out a stash of masking tape and tinker with the dilapidating remains of the ship before taking it anywhere. Though in reality, it wouldn't have mattered if he used sticky tack or chewing gum—anything would have been an improvement. I was surprised this man was able to get the hunk of junk off the ground let alone travel to different worlds on it.

Then the terrifying thought hit me.

I had to ride in this thing.

Aw, crap.

My ever so gentle captor must have seen the look of alarm gracing my features for he considerately added in for good measure, "It's not that crappy."

I squeaked in response.

He tore open the hatch and began to shove me in even before the walkway had finished its descent onto the ground. At this moment I think my mind snapped. Literally. I wouldn't be surprised if it were actually audible. Up until this point I had been going through the motions in a sort of haze, like this were all some twisted dream and I would wake up any second. But being pushed onto the transport made me come to my senses and realize that this was not a night time trip to la la land, this was reality. And in this current reality I was seriously screwed.

I clumsily whirled around on my colossal feet, trying in vain to keep my balance on my Jell-O like knees as they knocked together without my consent.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" I demanded, throwing the man's arms off of me. "Just what do you think you're doing with me anyway?"

"Saving your ass," he coolly replied, unaroused by my sudden outburst.

"Well has it ever occurred to you that perhaps my ass isn't in need of saving?"

There was a smirk playing on his lips.

"But it is."

Oh, it annoyed me to no end when he did that. Stupid know it all, acting like he was always right and his ways were non negotiable.

I begged to differ.

"Will I ever be coming home?"

Another smirk. Wider and more evident this time.

"Depends on if they kill you or not."

"Kill? Me?"

What had I ever done to anyone?

"That's the plan," he explained, seeming as though he was deriving some sort of twisted enjoyment out of my spectacle. I was in the right frame of mind to kick him in his balls and inform him that my mass hysteria was not being put on for his viewing pleasure.

"Wait—who, why?"

"Do you really wanna go over this now?" he questioned with a sigh.

My eyes darted around the clearing, trying to spot our invisible enemies intent on taking my life for reasons unknown. Concluding that perhaps my eyes were not the best thing to rely on, I answered with a quick horizontal jerk of my head and gave myself up to my much more informed superior.

"Alright then, that solves that. Get in."

His briskness was very unsettling. This seemed to routine for him. Though I don't know how a situation like this could ever become routine. But I didn't feel like wasting the time to ask.

I was rammed into the ship the minute I turned around. Apparently I wasn't moving fast enough for him and patience was not a virtue of his. Now, I never actually did see these so called enemies, and for a moment I began to doubt if they even existed. But I didn't want to risk finding out. Suppose they were real? I wouldn't be of any help to Sora and Riku if I were six feet under and pushing up daisies.

Though taking my chances with this guy didn't seem all that appealing at the moment, either.

Before I could second guess my previous actions, the man had bolt locked the door and thrown himself into the cockpit. He was moving awfully fast for someone running from false enemies.

The ship gave a violent lurch and sent me flying into the nearest metal wall. I knocked my head hard against the framework and was seeing stars for the next ten minutes. You'd think this guy would at least have the human decency to offer the poor girl a seat belt. I guess he assumed I'd fend for myself. Little does he know I have no practice in doing the latter.

"Wait . . . I don't wanna do this anymore," I groggily muttered, gingerly rubbing my head with a clammy palm. The stars encircling my cranium were magnifying in size.

"A little too late for that sweetheart."

"No...no it's...not..."

I was losing touch with reality.

I'd like to blame what happens next on head trauma or at the very least some sort of deranged medical explanation, but we all know the truth. Due to the sudden onslaught of events, I did what every other protégée damsel of distress has fallen culprit to.

I passed out.