(I DO NOT OWN INUYASHA)

I started writing this fic a looong time ago. It's about time I posted it since it's like 80% written

Hope you all enjoy! Please review

xoxo

-VQ

The sound of the rippling water danced into her eardrums as she splashed her feet along the shore. The beautiful glowing moon and stars stared down at her, granting her a spotlight, as the only woman on earth pranced naked on the beach. "I am free!" She exclaimed as the grains of sand clung between her toes with each frivolous step. "There is just one thing I desire."

"Kagome! Would you like something to eat?" Mom. You've broken my concentration once again.

"Mom! I'm working!"

"But sweetheart, aren't you hungry?"

I could hear my stomach grumbling beneath the sound of my typing, but I couldn't stop. I was inspired.

"I suppose."

Mom brought up a wonderful helping of soup and breadsticks on the side. She even made me lemonade. She's such a kind and patient person.

"Thank you, mom! It looks delicious."

"You're welcome, dear." She said with a beautiful, endearing smile. She always smiles. It makes the dreary days seem happy. I don't know how she always manages to smile, but that's just why I love her so much.

This soup is perfect for the evening. I'm assuming there was a change in the weather lately. I don't bother to look. I haven't looked out the window in weeks. I've been so wrapped up in this book and I refuse to listen to the radio, or watch television for that matter. Mother keeps all that modern technology in her room. It's distracting.

I guess my phobia of the outdoors and public places have taken a toll on my life. Aside from being a best-selling author, I'm a coward. I receive fan mail often. Hundreds of letters a week from readers who tell me how inspiring my stories are and how wonderful a person I am. Wonderful? They hardly know me. I'm shamefully dull and the only exciting stories of life I have to share are in my head.

I was diagnosed with agoraphobia in my early childhood. I don't remember what brought it about. Mom believes I've pushed it out of my mind intentionally and one day I will remember but I shouldn't force it. There are a lot of things from my childhood I don't remember, unfortunately. Actually, I don't remember anything before my 7th birthday. It's like I woke up one day and…forgot. I wish she would just tell me. Perhaps she believes I'm not ready to know.

Countless professionals have come here in an effort to help me, but each one walked out on me, frustrated and rendering me helpless. Everyone that's ever been in this house with me has run away out of frustration. My brother Sota and Grandpa moved away because the environment was too morbid and depressing.

Is that all I do? Make people sad? It's like I've cursed this beautiful house that my great grandfather built with his own two hands.

Good thing I have mom here. No one else will put up with me. No one else will love me. People don't come to visit. People just don't bother. They write letters and call every once in a while, but no one cares. I have no one. I've never been to a school. I don't have any friends. I've never been in love. It's unfathomable. How can one who's been alone for so long and never been in love write best-selling romance novels? I guess I have one heck of an imagination. Or maybe I'm insane.

But what good will my imagination do anymore besides make a living for me? I'm 19, I write books and mom tells me I'm beautiful every single day…but what else is there for me to tell? I couldn't write a story about my own life.

Sigh. Maybe I should stop pitying myself. This is my life. I've lived it for so long, what difference should it make now? It's never going to change.

"I can't even finish this book I've been working on!" I banged my fist on the table and yelled.

How can I finish this book? What does this woman desire? I don't even know what I desire. There is nothing more in this world for me.

I took the pages I wrote for that book and locked them away in my drawer labeled "for future reference". I've never started a story and not finished it. One day I will go back to it.

But not today. I'm just going to go to bed.

I woke up to the sun blaring in my face through my window. Mom must've opened my curtain last night. Not that I mind or anything. It feels so warm. It's the only sense of the outdoors I can really get without panicking and I immensely enjoy it. I stretched, got out of bed and put on my slippers.

Strange. The house is very silent. I can't hear the sound of mom's TV, nor do I hear her making any movement. I guess she's sleeping in. Taking care of me is exhausting.

I ran a bath for myself and sat in the tub, thinking about what I should begin writing about. Maybe I should stray away from romance and write an adventure novel? Perhaps even science fiction? How about a fairy tale? Each idea I run through, I draw a blank and always turn right back to romance. What is it about romance that draws me so much? I've never even spoken to a boy!

Sigh. It would be so amazing to fall in love.

I stepped out of the bath and still the house was silent. I knocked on mom's door and heard no response. The house is eerily silent. I can hear my own heart beat. I'm starting to get worried.

As rude as it may be, I opened mom's door and walked in. She's lying in her bed still and pale, even paler than me from the lack of sunlight. Is she sick?

"Mom? Are you alright? Do you need something?" I called out to her, but she didn't respond. Mom is a light sleeper, but she didn't even open her eyes when I came into the room. I checked her pulse and it was low…almost inexistent. I quickly grabbed her cell phone off her dresser and dialed 911.

They should be here soon. I'm going to sit by her bedside until they get here.

"Mom, please be okay. I love you so much."

My attention was brought to a notepad on her bedside with a letter addressed to me written on it.

My darling daughter Kagome,

I know you have been suffering a great deal and believe me when I say I have tried my hardest to be here for you. I hope I've done a good job as your mother. Lately, I've grown very ill. I didn't want to worry you, but I don't think I have much time left, nor do the doctors. I wish I could stay by your side forever, but I can't. I've clung to life as hard as I could, but life itself has given up on me. I've already written my will and I am entrusting you with something very special and valuable. I'm leaving behind my

That's where the letter ends. Halfway through, I was already in tears. I feel like I'm the one to blame for this. I can't lose my mom. I just can't!

"Mom, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would have told you to pour all my earnings from my books into your treatment!"

I hear the ambulance outside. I hope they can take care of mom.