Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Inbetween Days ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only. I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki or its related characters. I do however claim ownership of any and all original characters appearing in this work of fiction.

Inbetween Days

Chapter One

Misfortune and pain . . . the legacy of a taboo child . . . and fuck if that ain't the truth. Since the day I was born, that's all I've ever brought to anyone who was close to me. And all these years later, it's still as true as it ever was.

My own mother died not too long after I was born, the strain of bringing me into the world being too much for her. Strange as it sounds, I don't really know anything about her, other than she was human and that I think my father might have actually loved her in his own way. No pictures, no letters . . . hell, I don't even know her name. The only mother I ever knew was my father's wife. And ever since I was probably old enough to understand, my stepmother made sure that I knew I wasn't her child - that nothing so ugly and stupid could have possibly been hers; that I was just a worthless thing that she only let live with her because it was what her husband wanted. I learned early on just where my place was in that house.

On those rare occasions when my old man was around and the two of them weren't fighting, it was almost kind of nice. When my father was around, she couldn't treat me like she did when he was gone; and for a little while I could pretend that we were a family. The old man would sometimes smile at me and ruffle his hand in my hair and tell me how much I'd grown, or tell me how I needed to eat more because I was too skinny - almost like he actually cared. But it never lasted, and after a few days the two of them would be at each other's throats again and he'd leave. It was always worse then; she'd be all worked up and shaking because she was so angry. I learned really quick when it was time to hide; and within minutes of the door slamming as my father left, I'd be huddled in the closet in my room - or Jien's - my arms wrapped around my knees and praying to whatever gods might be willing to hear that she wouldn't come for me. If I was lucky, she'd start drinking first - enough that she would pass out for awhile, and I could slip out of the house and get lost for a little bit. But sometimes that only made it worse later on when she woke up hung over and still mad as hell.

Somehow I knew it was always my fault -- that I was the cause of all the pain and hurt between my father and his wife and that's why she hated me so much. I was the constant reminder of how the man she loved stepped out on her and how he betrayed her. There are times when I wonder what would've happened if I had never been born at all. Maybe if it hadn't of been for me, the two of them might have patched things up and been happy. Maybe if it hadn't of been for me, my brother would never have had to do what he did. Gods, how I wish I had never been born at all . . .

Even after eleven years, I can still see it so clearly -- my stepmother crumpled on the floor, the blood pooling around her, my brother with the knife in his hand and tears streaming down his face. I'd been ready, waiting for her to finally put an end to all the misery -- hers and mine -- hoping that maybe she'd find some peace once I was gone.

Jien and I looked at each other for a few minutes, both of us in shock at what had happened. I don't know if he planned it or if he just couldn't take it anymore, but the look on his face and the anguished sound that came out of his throat . . . gods, it made me start crying all over again. Then he dropped the knife and ran -- ran out of our house sobbing and he never came back.

I don't know how long I stayed there, huddled in the corner with my stepmother's body laying just inches away -- it could have been minutes, or hours or even days; I was too scared and numb to move or think. I don't know what finally got me to move, but somehow I did. I crawled over and looked at her -- her eyes staring at nothing and the metallic smell of blood clinging to her . . . and I started crying. I knelt there next to her and sobbed, knowing that once again it was all my fault.

I think it was the flies that finally brought me out of it -- buzzing around my stepmother's body, landing in the blood on the floor . . . dozens and dozens of them. It made me sick and I scrambled away only to get the dry heaves in the corner. I started to panic, as if finally realizing that I was in a room with a dead body; and half crawling, half stumbling, I somehow managed to get out of the house and outside. I fell down in the grass and started retching -- not that there was anything in my stomach, but I couldn't stop it. After a while I think I must have passed out, because I remember waking up and looking around confused, wondering why I was outside laying on the grass. Then like a shock I remembered and the tears started once again. Dragging myself to my feet the only thing I could think of was to get away -- to get away and find Jien.