Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Crossroad Luckless ❯ Recollection ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Alright. If you think I own YGO please inform me, so I can buy you a shirt that warns others that they are looking at a complete moron. But just for the record and the fact that you might sue me for all the money I have, I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters mentioned in this; just the plotline.

Warnings: Minor child abuse and death references mentioned in this chapter. I'm not supporting this theme in any way; simply just writing about it. For everyone and anyone struggling with physical, mental or other types of abuse, please consider support. Help is out there.

Rntoad- You'll be happy to know this story looks like its in the progress of a full on Anzu/Bakura:) Yay, and thanks for the support and nice comment; hope you enjoy this chapter :]

Authors Note: Quick question for you all; what do you think of me bringing Ryou and Marik into the picture eh? Well, now on with the story:

Last time: Wrapping himself underneath his sheets and covering his head with pillows, Bakura promptly fell fast asleep; forgetting all about the young woman passed out on his stolen couch one room over from his.

Bringing Anzu back home was one thing, but there was still the matter of explanation.

Tomorrow would sure be one hell of a day.

Chapter 3: Recollection.

Dream flashback, Anzu's POV:

(A/N: estimate Anzu's age to be around 9ish)

There was screaming.

There was always screaming when I got home after dance lessons.

There was screaming before it too.

The constant fights and pointless arguments between my parents have gone on for so long; I've forgotten what it was like before all of it.

I slip off my toe-shoes from ballet practice and move silently to the kitchen. To no surprise there at it again; my mother waving her finger at my father, and my father cursing left and right to my mother. Apparently today's topic of conflict was fueled by my mothers' recent lay-off from work.

Dad starts off by accusing mum for "stealing his money" He makes sure to emphasize `his' because he's completely arrogant and likes to think he's the only one in the house with cash.

Mum sharply replies back with "The money came from my last paycheck and it was used for food shopping, this family need's to eat after all. Maybe if you didn't have you head shoved so high up your ass you'd remember food is a necessity. Or have you forgotten we have a child to feed?" Mum was always very fanatical, and would never give up a fight so easily. She stuck with her opinion and had a certain sarcastic, mocking way of telling people off. That's one thing I loved and admired about her the most. She also had a fantastic sense of humor. The two of us got along great whenever dad wasn't around.

The shouting continued on into most of the night while I blocked it out with either music or T.V. It would die down somewhere after dark; always ending with dad's slamming of the door routine and mum's 15 minuets of none-stop crying. This became our day to day schedule for about 6 years.

I didn't ask about it, mum never talked about it, and dad sure as hell never cared about it. I suppose if he did he would have never called us all those names. I suppose that's why he left after learning about mum's diagnosis of breast cancer. I suppose that's why he took all the money, leaving us with nothing. I suppose a lot of stuff but the one thing I'm sure of is I'll never see him again; I don't want to. I'm actually hoping I don't. He was what drove my mother into such severe depression, him and his mental abuse. I only wish I would have done something earlier.

I could have saved her.

I could have saved her.

Those words repeat over and over until I don't know what else to do but cry.

So I do.

/whoosh insert awesome flashback sequence here/

Just then, I realized the change of the environment.
It was an attic; my attic.

I saw myself as a young girl, 9 or so, all teary eyed and sobbing.

I continued to watch the child cry. It was a pitiful sight. I wanted to soothe her, tell her that it was alright, but every time I'd touch her, my hand went through her body; like I was a ghost. I hated feeling so inadequate.

Unexpectedly, the entrance door flung open, revealing my father behind it.

The girl, suddenly noticing the dark-looking man, stared at him; her eyes pleading for any type of comfort. But the man's actions did not make a large impact; minus the cause of more tears escaping her eyes.

Not liking the little girl's response, he kicked her hard.

I looked on in alarm and terror while the man abused her. Rather; my father abused me.

It seemed that he disliked her tears and struck her harder, trying to stop them from flowing.

It was ineffective.

The girl continued to make frail attempts, trying to ask the man between sobs if he would leave.

The thing is; that man never stopped.

/-End Dream-/

I awoke in cold sweat looking around and sighed in relief. It was a dream.

Just a dream.

I had forgotten all about that night until now. I wish I still could. Even though it had happened once and only once, watching the reenactment caused the scar to re-open itself; this time bleeding harder than before.

My eyes blinked furiously as I adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. "What the.. where am I?" I shifted my weight so that both my feet were supported by the floor, and then slowly took my first step forward.

"The last thing I remember.." I quietly began trying to retrace myself. "Was running.. running into.. Domino Park?" I didn't and couldn't remember anything. My head throbbed furiously and after failing to catch my balance, fell back down onto where I had first awoken.

I cautiously looked around the room hoping to miraculously realize just where the hell I was, but still nothing. I traced my surroundings closely once more, making note of the mess that was scattered around the couch; one giant pile of magazines, duel monster cards and dirty cloths. "Well whoever lives here sure could learn a thing or two about housekeeping." I huffed.

Suddenly my eyes came across a recognizable outfit. "Looks familiar..." I confirmed, delicately picking up the Blue over shirt. "I new it; this is a Domino high-school uniform!" My fingers gently investigated the collar for any trace of a name-tag, signature or anything that would reveal to who's home I was now within.

Nothing presented itself.

I sighed throwing the clothing angrily to the floor, and decided to take a closer look around. Maybe not the best of ideas; to walk in the region of a stranger's house, but I always did have a knack for getting my curiosity in trouble.

I warily tip-toed my way out of what seemed to be the living room and soon found myself entering the kitchen. "My god..." was all I could manage to say after looking up and down the disgusting state of the room. The kitchen's wall tiles were on the verge of falling apart, with cracks in almost every side. The floor looked like one big trash can the way everything had been absorbed into it. And the sink if it even was a sink, had been filled with unwashed dishes nearly reaching the sealing.

Without even staying a second longer I dashed to what looked to be the main bedroom. In complete honestly I had predicted the typical male collage dorm with half naked playboy model posters everywhere along with the occasional band groups; something Jouanchi's room resembled. But surprisingly I was met with quite the opposite; nothing but blank walls along with a king-sized bed that was some-what made. "Keep your guard up Anzu" I mentally reminded myself as I continued with further inspection.

It was then I caught a glimpse of gold; similar to what looked like an ancient Egyptian shrine surrounded with candles and incense. Intrigued, I extended my hand to open the small doors handle.

All of a sudden I felt the presence of ice-cold breath beating down my neck, piercing my heart with fear. My hand immediately froze, letting go of the shrines handle and returning trembling back at my side. My bright blue eyes shone wide, tears nearly about to leak loose. Never have I been so completely horrified in my entire life.

My body tensed solid as stone while I anxiously anticipated for something not including pain.

A cold emotionless snicker was let out behind me as I instantaneously recognized who the voice belonged to.

"Bakura..." I hissed, a mixture of raged emotions burning at the back of my throat; mostly consisting of anger, fear and disgust.

"Well well well, 10 minuets into my hospitality and you're already toying with things of which don't belong to you." He paused to laugh arrogantly as I could hear his footsteps nearing closer. "Foolish woman, you really aught to consider carrying a weapon; next time I can guarantee you won't be so lucky."

TBC

Author's Note: Again I'm sorry for taking longer than I wanted to for pumping this chapter out... but as most of you other authors know, that's how it goes. I promise to get the next chapter finished as soon as possible. Also, send some reviews whether I should drag in Ryou and Marik or if I should take out Jou completely and put in some other particular character. R&R :)