InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lachrymose ❯ Lachrymose ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A/N: This is the unofficial prequel to my recent one-shot, Killing Perfection. In this version, we get Kagome’s narrative, and all the events that occurred before she killed herself that faithful night. Rated M for vivid imagery, emotional content, and suicide.
The word Lachrymose is from the Latin word lacrimosus. It’s an adjective that describes being tearful, mournful, able to shed tears readily, or causing tears. Other words, along the same line of Lachrymose, includes dolorous, tearful and weeping.
You are probably wondering why any of this matters. I ask myself the same thing. Why do you want to hear a pitiful story about a pathetic girl suffering through tragic circumstances? When you figure it out, you can tell me at my funeral, because by the time you are reading this, I am already deceased.
It’s an odd thing being dead, and even stranger that I am narrating this story from beyond the grave. But I had to tell someone the truth. He may have killed me but I still want to be heard. No one listened to me when I was alive; I was all alone. But in death, I found strength. And through this…my voice will finally be heard. That’s all I want. I used to care about love, about my ex-fiancé, about graduating from high school, but now, all I want is for someone to care enough about what I have to say to be all ears.
And I suppose that someone is you. I guess I should tell you about that night, about why I did what I did. I  just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take it anymore. The cheating, the lying, the shame, the embarrassment, and the end of our relationship…it all just felt like the end of my life. I was dying anyways. Slowly, painfully, each day to me was agony. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, and I find myself lying awake at night wondering where I went wrong. What steps could I have taken to avoid this fate? Why is this happening to me?
I always thought of myself as a good person; as a wholesome, well-rounded individual. Why does someone like me have to die when assholes like him get to live? Why is it that my life is made into a living hell on earth while he is walking on clouds? Why is it that he is allowed to be happy when I can’t even bear to get up in the morning? I suppose these questions will never have answers, and to a certain extent, the answers don’t matter anymore. Because now I am dead, now I am free. I will not be tormented by Sesshomaru’s games anymore. My emotions and my thoughts won’t be his to toy with. For in death, I have found the life I once had; a life free of sadness, free of pain, free of heartache and heart break. I find a life that is truly mine.
On That night, December 31, 2012
I sat there on my bed, clutching my Samsung Galaxy S3 to my ear, wishing he’d just pick up. I was already dressed for bed. Mom took Souta out to see the fireworks being lit up as the ball dropped at midnight and I was home alone. The phone just rang and rang until it went to his voicemail. He had that generic automated voice that asked me to leave a message.
“I called because I wanted to hear your voice one last time. I had things I wanted to say to you. But I guess a voicemail will have to do” I began, taking a long breath inbetween. I had no idea what I wanted to say but the words spilled out of me like a bleeding wound.
“I just wanted you to be mine. All mine…even if just for a moment. All I wanted was for you to love me. I didn’t want to share you; not with your family, not with your friends, not with any other girl. But you wouldn’t stop cheating, wouldn’t stop lying, and wouldn’t be content to have all my love. I was never enough for you” I said slowly, the words sending little pangs of guilt to my heart. I had never spoken these words to Sesshomaru in my entire life, but all of a sudden I was able to now.
“It didn’t matter what I tried to do; even after I dedicated my life to you, even after I lost my virginity to you. I could barely hold your attention for a second before you started looking at another girl. At first, when I figured out you were cheating, I tried to smother you with more love and attention. I tried to force you to want to be with me. But after awhile I gave up. I never had the strength to leave you and you were never going to change. Rather I ignored your affairs and your mistresses because you started spoiling me with gifts. But that wasn’t good enough for me. I deserved to be more to you. I should have been your main focus, your one and only” I cried, my voice growing shaky and the tears blocking my sight. At first I thought I was going to stop right there but I had even more to say. The answering machine cut off at the end of that message, so I called right back and left a longer message.
“You know what hurt me the most? The pain of not knowing when you were lying; I could never tell the difference between the truth and your lies. I also thought that your feelings may not be genuine. You might have used your charisma and charm to lure me into bed. Those thoughts keep me awake at night. Was our relationship real? Did you ever love me? It hurts to think the whole thing…all of our time together, the memories, the laughs, the talk of the future, and our past might have been one big lie. I swear I can’t take it” I was in a fever pitch, and the words of Adele’s song “Rolling in the Deep” were running through my mind. I can’t believe I wasted so much time thinking he was mine. Thinking he could have made me happy. Thinking we could have lasted. I was such a fool. But not everything about us was bad. Despite all the things he put me through, I still loved him. He still consumed my heart and soul.
“I love you, I have for years, and I always will. You are the only person in my life who can light up my day and bring me to the brink of tears in a moment. No one can fill the place I have for you in my heart. But I cannot live another day with this overwhelming pain. It cripples me. My heart aches from the anguish and so I called to say farewell. God knows when we shall meet again” I finished, not able to stop myself from hanging up. I had finally said all that I needed to. But at the same time, I was afraid he would never listen to the voicemail.
I silenced my phone and placed it on the bed beside me. I went over to my bookcase to search for some spare binder paper. I wanted to leave him a note. Even if he never comes to see my dead body, I know someone will tell him about it.
Once again, I couldn’t imagine what I was going to say.
Dear Sesshomaru,
I wanted us to have it all. I tried my hardest to make this work. I…
But that wasn’t where I wanted to go. I wasn’t pleading for forgiveness or asking for him to take me back. I was angry, and I was hurt. He didn’t care about me. He never took the time to focus on me, on what I wanted, on our relationship. He hurt me. He took away every shred of who I used to be. He took me and tore me in half. He took my childhood, my heart, and my laugh. He took everything I ever was but I’m done being his “poor thing”. That’s what they also say about me; how foolish I am. To go back to him after he used me, lied to me, cheated on me, hurt me, and abused me. Our entire relationship was an illusion, and I was simply caught up in all his tricks.
With this in mind, I was able to write a letter that made more sense; a letter of anger, to express and release the pain that had haunted me for all this time.
Dear Sesshomaru,
I tried to love you; I tried to be the best girlfriend you could have ever wanted. You lied to me and you used me. You told me I was the best you ever had, you told me I was the “one”. You robbed me of my innocence, my virginity, my life, my heart, and my soul. There’s nothing left of me now. There was no me without you. So now there’s no me at all. You truly lived up to your name. You are, indeed, the “Killing Perfection” for you have killed me. I once had hopes, dreams, a bright future, and a glowing personality. But that is no more. You slayed me with one slow stab to my heart. I have been bleeding out for months now, but now I have no more life in me, you bled me dry. I feel like we could have been a match made in heaven. But my mistake was trying to find happiness with you, a creature from hell. Even in my death, I will love you, but I can only be free from your demonic charm in my ever-lasting rest. For death is actually life. In death, I will have the freedom I want; freedom from you. My death helps fulfill your name’s prophecy for I was your latest victim. You will be sorely missed.
~Kagome
These scenes of death keep playing in my mind, over and over and over again….I’m not sure why. I get headaches all the time. It’s like my brain is in overload from all the stress I am under. The stress he has caused me. I can’t have him; I can’t hold him close and have the relationship that I crave. He does not spend any time with me. He does not value me. He continues to force me into this little box and place me on his “shelf” to play with whenever he wants. He doesn’t realize just how he makes me feel. I feel alone constantly.
I can picture the way I’ll die. I’ve visually played through all the options…slitting my wrist with a razor, popping a bunch of pills, sitting in the car with the engine on and the garage down, swimming out far in the ocean and allowing the waves to overcome me, shooting myself in the head, refusing to eat until my body shuts down, drinking until I make myself sick, driving off a cliff…these methods haunt my dreams.
It’s morbid to think about death. One isn’t supposed to think of death until they’re old and gray, lying in their bed thinking of the vivid past they had and the full life they lived. Not me, I’m 18 years old and obsessed with my end.
What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy? Everyone else is happy! Everyone else is able to picture a life filled with everything they’ve ever wanted; love, a family, a career, their perfect life. Why can’t I find it? I’ve lost my ability to smile or laugh; I don’t even care about graduation anymore.
Nobody understands me. The pain that I feel, the pressure I’m under, it’s as if I am sitting here all alone despite being surrounded by friends and family. Sango is too busy for me; Souta is too young; Mom is working too hard to stop; Dad is dead. I have no one to turn to, no one to just lay my problems all out for them to see. I have to keep them in, bottle them up, and suppress them so that I’m not a bother. I don’t want to take up anyone’s time with my problems. Even iftried to reach out, who would listen? No one cares. People are only in your life for 1 reason.
Sesshomaru… the only man I’ve ever been with. He was my first in a lot of ways. My first boyfriend, my first love, my first sexual partner, the first person who opened my eyes up a world I had never been a part of;worldnever knew existed. He showed me how to love, how to be loved, how wondrous and magical love could be. Then he took it all away. He introduced me to the high and the low, but the low was much worse than I could ever imagine. He gave me a taste of “love” and it became a drug to me, but what he charged me to get that high back was a piece of my soul. I literally had to die a little each time I wanted him to “love” me.
He took everything I kept for myself and made me dependent on him. I would need him to validate me, I would need him to raise my self-esteem, and I would need him to be happy. I lost the ability to be me, and became whatever he wanted me to be. I became one of those girls;product of low self-esteem, desperation, and an abusive boyfriend. Though he never put his hands on me, he left scars that I could never heal. He left me ruined. I can’t enjoy another man’s touch, I can’t imagine another relationship, my desire is gone because of him. I’ve tried…so hard to find someone elsemake me feel the way he makes me feel right now.
I can’t even remember the days before him; before I met him, before we dated. That’s like a lifetime ago. For whatever reason, I’m glued to him. I’m like a moth attracted to the light, insisting on flying to my death. I can’t leave him, but I can’t have him. I love him but I hate him. Such conflicting emotions, such contrastive feelings. I can’t help how I feel, but I hate myself for feeling this way.
I don’t know what to do….where to go…I can’t imagine my life anymore. I don’t know who I am. Without him, there is no me. I wrapped my entire identity into this man, and I’m afraid to leave because where would that leave me? Breaking up is hard, but divorcing yourself from the person who is your past, present, and future is impossible.
I sat down at my desk and wrote my final diary entry.
Dear Diary,
Today is my last entry. I can’t keep going this way anymore. I have no life left to give. I finally understand Sesshomaru’s name, he is truly the killing perfection. He is the perfect predator. He lures girls in with his charm, his smooth talk, his “nerdy” personality, his teddy bear appeal. His body just lures you in. HE entices you to come into his trap, and then once he got you, he is so perfect, so wonderful, and so sexy, that you never want to leave. He knows just what to say, just what you want to hear. He is able to slay you with his “acting” and you’re dead before you even realize the trap. Every girl he ever leaves is always ruined in the mind. He tears apart their soul, he ruins their psyche, and they’re never the same after being with him. But not me. He can’t hurt me anymore. He thinks he can win but he can’t, not if I win the game first. That is why I’ve gotten all the supplies I’ve needed. The chair, the rope, the music, everything I’ll need to make this as painless as possible. I don’t want to die, but I can’t let Sesshomaru kill me from the inside. And so, diary, I bid you adieu.
I tucked my diary away in its usual spot. I propped up the chair and placed at an angle under my ceiling fan. I had already bought my materials, which I had in the house. The chair was wooden, sturdy, and four-legged and had a back to it that I could use to stand up. I had bought three-strand twisted natural fiber rope, and tied it into a noose. I didn’t need to know much about rope or knots; I had the lady at the hardware store show me which rope was the strongest and which knot would hold. Those people are pretty resourceful when it comes to “home improvement”.
I shut my door, and braced myself to stand on the chair. Using the back of the chair and the edge of the bed, I balanced myself straight on the chair. I reached up on my tippy-toes to fasten the other end of the noose around the top of my ceiling fan, and placed the noose around my neck. The rope was itchy and rough against my bare throat; I hoped the discomfort wouldn’t hurt me long. I kicked the very edge of the chair from beneath me and I heard it thump against the ground. I felt my body plunge down and then snap back up against the resistance of the rope. I could feel my lungs burning, their way of crying out for oxygen. But I could give them none. The noose was so tight against my neck and throat that I was turning blue in the face.
Even while I was dying, all I could think about was him.