To know this Empty Feeling

Kyoshi: It's just me this time. Saffire didn't have any part in writing this so she's not gonna be here.

It's all from Ryou's point of view and there is nothing but angst during this story. I have been in a depressed mood lately and this is the result. As with parts of Misunderstood many of Ryou's thoughts are mine. Just like to warn you about that.

To those of you who read my other story Misunderstood, I'm sorry for the delay in getting out the last chapter. I haven't had much inspiration for it, but don't worry, I'll work on it this week and get it out to you soon. Again I am very sorry for not updating it. Nabiki-chan is close to killing me. ::wide eyes:: Someone please save me from that crazy friend I have.

There really isn't anything else I want to say so I'll put up the disclaimer and warnings.

Disclaimer: If you actually thought I owned the characters in this story you deserve to be in a mental institute more than I do. Suing would be absolutely pointless. And it would prove that you are a complete idiot.

Warnings: Shounen ai is implied, mental angst, other kinds of angst, umm… depression? Other things too, but I can't think of them by name.

So now I'll let you read it. I hope you like it.

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I sigh and close my eyes. I'm alone again. Bakura just left with Marik. On a date. Left me here at the house alone. I just told you that though. That I was alone. I can't remember a time when I wasn't alone in some way. I always was and always will be alone…

It's so quiet here. Nothing but my quietly beating heart and the ticking clock hanging on the wall. Nothing but that. I'm always described as quiet. I'm the one who sits quietly by himself and never talks. That is how I am always described. Why should I talk? Why should I draw unwanted attention towards myself? When you loudly make yourself known everyone will think you are annoying. I don't want to be thought of as annoying. But there are some people who already think that. I can't change it.

I take a deep breath into my lungs and get off the chair I've been sitting in for a while. I had nothing better to do so I just sat there and thought to myself. About everything that is wrong with me. There are many, many things that are wrong with me. Don't even try to tell me that I should stop thinking bad things and look on the bright side. I've already tried and found nothing but darkness. A deep black void that is endless.

I open the door to my room and leave it, shutting the door softly to not break the near silence of the house. Maybe I'll go to the kitchen to get a drink? I guess. So I softly pad down the stairs in my fuzzy slippers. My feet get cold too easily so I have to wear them. Do I really care if I get too cold? Not really… I guess it's so I have just a little bit of comfort. I don't really deserve any though.

As I walk down the hall to the kitchen I stop as I pass the few pictures hanging on the wall. My hand reaches up and touches the glass surface of the frame. It's of my father holding a smaller version of myself. I haven't seen him in about three years. I don't really care though. The man was an alcoholic. It didn't take him much to get drunk. He became someone else. When he was drunk he took many things out on Mother. And after she left, it was me. I shake my head a bit to stop thinking of that. Why haven't I taken this down yet? Probably so I'll remember some of the good times with him…

The picture next to that is of everyone. Of me and my 'friends'. They weren't my friends. None of them paid attention to me. I bet I sound selfish. I probably am. I just wish that they cared. I know they don't. They never will. No one wants to care about 'quiet, shy, naïve Ryou'. Why would people want to waste their time with someone as insignificant as me? The picture hurts me every time I see it and it deepens the void in myself. I can't take it down because Bakura would wonder as to why I did it. He wouldn't understand. No one can.

I sigh and finish walking to the kitchen. I do need a drink. Maybe some hot chocolate. It may help to calm the void for a while. I go to the cupboard and pull out a packet of chocolate powder. I grab a mug from the other side of the kitchen and measure out how much water I need to heat. I pour the water in the heater and press the button. This will take a minute so while I wait I empty the powder into my mug.

I wonder when Bakura will return. Probably not until morning. He's usually out all night when he goes to have fun. When was the last time I went out and did something? I can't remember…

The button clicks off to tell me the water has finished heating. After I pour the water into my mug and stir with a spoon I take a sip. It's hot. I like it when it's really hot. When it burns down my throat. It feels good when it does that.

I look over to the table. In the middle is a thin vase with a single rose in it. It's Bakura's. Marik gave it to him. For some reason I feel like I should cry. But I can't. I haven't cried in so long my body can't form tears. I loved Bakura. He doesn't love me. He'll never love me. No one can love me. I will always be alone. Alone… It's hard to love your friend and they don't even take notice of you. He's not my yami anymore. I have no yami. I am alone. I do feel sad but that is the way life is and I should accept the truth.

I finish drinking my hot chocolate and just stare ahead. At the wall. The white wall. It is like a void. Like the void I have within myself. It won't leave. I shake my head a little and put the mug on the counter. I'll clean it later. Maybe.

What shall I do to pass the time? I don't know. I could just do nothing. Like what I've been doing for who knows how long. Maybe I'll turn the radio on. Even though most of the 'music' that is played nowadays can be considered crap.

I decided that I'll just go back upstairs to my room. When I get to my room I grab a pair of soft PJ pants to wear. I walk into the bathroom and peel off the pants I'm currently wearing. I cringe when I set my gaze on my legs. Many white and pinkish scars are everywhere. I did them. To try and relieve the ache of the void within me. I don't think it worked though. The void is still here. So is the unending sadness. I trail my finger over one of the longer ones. The skin of the scar can either be more sensitive or not have much feeling. It switches. I put on the soft pants and look at myself in the mirror. I'm pale. I don't go out much so I have white skin. I turn my face from the mirror. The sight of myself repulses me. I can see why no one wants to love me. I hate looking into mirror. I'm so ugly…

My stomach is somewhat pudgy. It could be from not exercising but I doubt that's completely it. A few days ago some irritating girl walked over to me during lunch and told me that if I ate anymore I'd become fat. She then left. I haven't eaten in two days.

I know I'm stupid with my destructive habits. But I can't stop. No matter what I do the void will always be there. The empty void in me. Unending…

The silence in the house is comforting. But yet… it also unnerves me. Contradicting. Everything in life is contradicting everything else. Nothing is definite. But yet… it is. I rarely give someone a definite answer when I'm asked a question. I'll always answer with a 'maybe', never a 'yes' or 'no'. Giving a straight answer is like a commitment. I don't like commitments all that much. I can't break a commitment if I never make one in the first place. It's logic.

I leave the bathroom and shut off the light. There's not much to do. I'm not really bored. Just… empty. I don't care. Maybe I should go lay on my bed for a while and try to fall asleep. I won't be able to though. I'm not tired. Well, actually I am tired. Just not physically. I'm emotionally tired. To remain healthy you need to have good stats in your mental, emotional, and physical aspects. I'm not healthy. I haven't been for a long time.

My bed is soft. And comfy. But… I don't deserve to have any comfort.  No one cares for my comfort so that means I don't deserve it. I'm just starring at the white ceiling. There is nothing but white in my vision. Nothingness. Like my void. It aches in my chest and tires out my body. I don't care for anything anymore. I don't see any reason.

My stomach lightly growls. I'm going to ignore it. I don't want food. I don't need it. If I eat, I'll gain weight and I don't want that.

Maybe I will turn on the radio. I get up and walk over to the desk in the corner of my room. The radio is plugged into the wall already so I just hit the button to turn it on and tried to find a decent song. The static noise breaks the silence of the house. The sound is too high so I turn the volume down to a reasonable level. I finally found a good and soft song. It's in English. Strange. I didn't know this radio could get a foreign station. This song feels like it was sung for me. The void aches even more. I want it to leave! Go away! Please…

The void will never leave. Not as long as I exist. Only when I die will the void leave. Only then…

I turn off the radio. Maybe I should. No one will miss me. Not one person. Not even… Bakura. He has Marik. He doesn't need me. He won't miss me. I don't think he ever cared much about me. I wasn't much use. I'm weak. How come I survived this long with no support? I don't know. I know one thing though. I can't survive much longer. The void has been growing. Little by little it has been growing. It will soon grow too large and completely take over my senses. I don't want that to happen. I'll leave this world first, before that can happen.

I've made my decision. I will do it. This will be the commitment I stick to. I won't break this one. I know I won't. I'm dedicated to this.

I take soft and confident strides toward my dresser. It's here. It has been here for a long time. I pull open the top wooden drawer. It's in here. I reach in a gently shaking hand and push around a few items. When I find what I'm looking for I grasp a small flat item about three inches long. It's a white metal sheath for what I need at the moment. I shut the drawer after I pull out my 'tool'.

I'm going to do this in the bathroom. I don't want to stain the carpet with my impure blood. The tiles will be easier to clean. I walk into the white tiled bathroom. I smirk humorlessly as I think about how much the color of my blood will stand out against the white tiles. Bright crimson against perfectly blinding white. I bet it will look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I wonder if anyone will appreciate the beauty of my death.

It will be easier without my shirt. The long sleeves will get in the way. My body shivers involuntarily as the cold air hits my scarred torso. The appearance is not as bad as my legs though. I didn't have much of an opportunity to take my troubles out on my arms. Even if slicing my arms felt better than cutting the skin of my legs. I couldn't. People would notice somehow. Not that they care. They don't. They never did. Never will.

I bring my eyes up to look in the mirror. My eyes are empty. Just like the void. The endless void that I will finally rid myself of. Just one simple task. My last task.

I hold up the item that I found in my drawer. This is what I'll use to rid the world of a pathetic life. My pathetic life. Everyone will probably celebrate when they learn of my demise. I don't blame them.

I push the extended gray piece into the white part and the concealed blade is finally revealed. I look at the sharp object closely. There is a small red stain on it's shiny surface. From previous uses. But, this will be my last. I'll make sure of that.

Bakura won't be back until after I've completed this task so I don't need to worry about any interruptions. I will be alone as I die. Alone as I've always been. No one has ever cared for me. Not one person… especially not Bakura. Why did I have to fall in love with him? I don't know…

I bring my left arm in front of me and point the inside of my wrist upwards. This is where I'll make the cut. My final cut. I hold the blade to my white skin and pause. This… only this will relieve my body and soul from the void. I want to escape it so I will take my miserable life. I lightly drag the blade down my arm and watch as tiny beads of red blood start to appear. I can feel the slight stinging pain. The sting that happens when you get a cut. Only this time… it will be more than just a sting. Again I bring the blade to the top of the mark I just made and drag it down again. Only this time I use a bit more pressure.

My eyes stare in fascination as one of those beads of blood slowly slide down my arm. It leaves a red trail behind it. I'm not bleeding much yet. I bring my arm to my mouth and lick another bead before it has the chance to fall. It tastes like copper. I already knew that. Another small trail of blood slides down my arm. It kinda tickles.

I slightly wince. The sting is a little stronger now. But my job is not done. I must continue. I drag the sharp blade over the red line to make the cut deeper. A little more blood wells to the surface and it makes more trails down my arm. I feel a few drops fall and I look down. My slippers have a few red dots on them now. Oh well. I won't need them anymore.

For the forth time I work on deepening my cut. This time I pressed hard and was rewarded with even more blood. Drops of blood are falling freely onto my slippers and the white tiles of the floor. It's a wonderful sight. Absolutely beautiful. I love it.

I'm still not done. The blade is stained. The floor is also beginning to be stained. I want to stain it more. I again deepen the cut in my arm. The sting is like a burning sensation. But I can deal with it. The pain is bearable in comparison to the relief of ridding self of the empty void. This is the best thing I've ever done in my life. My pathetic miserable life. The blood is starting to flow freely now. It is still not enough. Not enough. In anger I press the blade really hard and drag it down my arm.

I take a small sharp intake of breath. I think I finally cut a vein. The blood is flowing off my arm and falling onto the white floor. The contrast is simply beautiful.

My breath quickens a little. I'm trying to get enough air to keep standing. I'm getting light-headed from the loss of my life's blood.

My legs are getting weak so I sink slowly to the floor before I can fall. My pants are becoming damp from soaking up my fallen blood. I lean my back against the wall and my breath starts to slow down. I watch the beautiful blood with a tired gaze. It is so wonderful. I feel kinda tired. I blink my eyes and stare at the ceiling, but turn my eyes back downwards when the light hurts my eyes.

So. This is the end. The end of my pathetic life. It's beautiful. The end of my pain. My sadness. I think. I think I can be happy. The void is loosening it's grip on me. I can feel the emptiness start to ebb away.

I've lost a lot of blood. I did cut open a vein. My eyes close in exhaustion. I feel so tired now. It's just like going to sleep. Yes. Like going to sleep. The pain in my wrist is actually starting to dull.

My senses are also dulling. Sleep. That's what I need. Rest from the stress of living. I can barely think. Sleep…

The blade falls from my loosened grasp to the floor with a small clang. It splashes a little bit of blood.

I can't… feel… the void… anymore…

I'm free.

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Kyoshi: Soo… ummm… what did you think? I know it probably sucks, but anyway. I told you all that I've been feeling depressed lately, so I used Ryou to help express what I felt.

Those of you that are my close friends who are reading this- don't worry. I'm not suicidal. I won't kill myself. I haven't gotten to that point yet. I don't plan on dieing anytime in the near future, no matter how depressed I may be.

I just wish for the happiness that will never be mine.

I hope that anyone who also knows what it feels like to be depressed, not just sad, but completely and utterly depressed will find ways to hold on. I'm trying, and I hope you can too.

There's not much else I can say without sounding like an even bigger idiot, so I'll just leave. I hope that if you took the small amount of time to read this will take an even smaller amount of time to just tell me what you thought. Arigatou.