I've Seen More Spine in Jellyfish
~jimmySLOTH

This is based off the song by Brand New, "Seventy Times Seven"... if you haven't heard it, and have Windows Media Player or Real One or something you might want to think about downloading it [if you're into Emo music and whatnot].

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'Anger is only a cheap way to hide pain and hurt and loneliness, you know, and that's your one character flaw: you can't show anyone that you're weak; you can't show anyone that you're just a scared little boy, can you? You have to hide it. Have to push people away. You're just like your father, you know? You ought to think about changing yourself before you push us all away!'

That was the last thing my mother said to me before she left, before she grabbed Takeru and walked out of the house for good. And when I think about all the times I've needed her, all the times my father and I really truly needed her, I remember that I do not need her. I remember that she was wrong, and that she needs to pay for what she has done to us.

But that's just a lie. She was not wrong, was she? Yes, it's true, I antagonize people, and I'm always angry solely because I am lonely. I am sad, I am lonely, and I am hurt... I'm still that little boy that I always was, the one who would sit opposite of all the other children and complain, and pretend to pick fights because I was too cowardly to walk straight up to the problem and stare it in the face, and then get over it.

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:FLASHBACK:

It was raining outside. I'd always hated the rain. It made me feel worse about myself in some strange way, but I was only ten years old and I'm not sure I could really understand why. My father was home alone with me. My mother and Takeru, my baby brother, had gone out to visit a friend of his.

I was sitting in front of the television, as usual, when my father came up to me and grabbed me by the shoulder, and then thrust me into a room. Not just any room, his bedroom. I cried out in pain and looked over at my father who was silent. I demanded to know why he had treated me as he did, but my father did not reply. At long last he knelt down, stared into my eyes, and kissed my forehead. Then he kissed my cheek, and then my lips. I tried to pull away from him, I had never really enjoyed father-son moments, but this was just strange.

Then my father proceeded to pull of my pants slowly, and kiss me, and tell me that he loved me... and finally, my father raped and beat me.

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Was this love? What WAS love? Most of all, why had he done this to me? Why? Was this why mom left? I was so full of questions, so full of bitter resent and torture, and pain, such great pain he had caused me, and for what? A cheap thrill? Was that all I was, some sort of cheap deranged thrill ride for some forty-year-old man?

Maybe this is why I have no compassion. It had been sucked out of my very soul, sucked out of my body with every kiss and every taste my father ever took of me. And let me tell you, the first time was not the last time. So the pain just grew, as he continued to have his sick little fantasies lived out in his own son.

But that's not important anymore. That is the past and this is the future. Those days of pain and anger are gone. My father is dead. Now I live alone, in an apartment, where I can do whatever I want without those sick little consequences.

Which leads me to today.

I sat lonely at the bar, slowly consuming my glass of whatever the hell I was drinking, I can't even remember, when all of a sudden a tall brunette boy sat down next to me. I glanced at him, but uninterested, I looked away. I had just finished a gig somewhere or another, I can't remember anymore, and I was utterly exhausted.

Lucky for me, my ex-girlfriend just had to be there too. She bounced over to me, and yelled "Hey Matt how's it hangin'?"

I glared at her icily. "Yamato. Call me Yamato. And I'm fine."

She did not notice the ice that crept over my words like fog over the ground on a warm day after a cold night. And so she continued to pester me, as I continued to blow her off. Finally, the brunette boy turned around, and said, "Gee, Sora, did you ever think that he doesn't want to talk to you?"

I looked over at the boy again. How did he know Sora, but more importantly why did he care? I looked closer at his face, and realized it was not just some brunette boy, but one of my old friends, Taichi Yagami.

"Tai?"

"Hey Yamato, How's it going?" He grinned at me. In the dim light of the bar, his serene brown eyes glistened happily, as he chuckled and added, "I haven't seen you in a long while, ne?"

I blinked, trying to divert my attention away from him. "Yes, I suppose it has been a long while." I smoothed my blonde hair, as my eyes glistened sharply back at him.

A few minutes later, Taichi spoke up again. "One time, someone asked me if you had contacts or if your eyes were really that blue. And I just looked at them and said, 'Now why would he wear contacts? Of course they are real, they are as real as you and me, and as beautiful as a deep lake', and then the other person told me I spent too much time reading."

I did not happen to notice the wonderful compliment that Taichi had just given me. Sarcastically, I remarked, "If you're comparing my eyes to a deep lake you must be calling them empty, for a lake has nothing to it except Hydrogen and Oxygen. Gases. Which can appear to be nothing." What a smart ass I am.

Taichi grinned at me. "Yes, but the combination of Hydrogen and Oxygen does create the compound of water, does it not? And water in a lake means that it has depth, which is exactly what your eyes have."

Again, I missed the compliment, and instead finished my drink, got up and put my coat on and said quickly, "Don't you have some ball to be kicking around somewhere?"

I didn't realize as I walked home that I was being followed.

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Uhm, yeah, thanks for reading and I hope you leave a little review for me, so that you can inspire me to write a little more or something. =D Well thanks for at least reading.

~jimmySLOTH