Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Paint it Black ❯ Paint it Black ( Chapter 1 )

More depressing songfics….enjoy….there is a light at the end of the tunnel for this one!!

 

Standard disclaimers apply

 

Paint it Black

 

I see a red door and I want it painted black

 

Walking down the street I barely register what's going on around me, many would say that it's a beautiful day. It's not. Yami thought my heart was cold and indifferent before? He should see it now. It's a stone that rests in my chest. In this bleak world I now reside in something jumps out at me.

An obnoxious red door.

Who paints a door red? It's a stupid color. It's the color of blood. The same shade as the deep rich red liquid that had spilled from my lover. The same red that stains me for forever. Something in me screams to destroy the door. I probably could. I most likely own the house they live in. I want that door black. There is no reason it should be red.

 

No colors any more, I want them to turn black

 

If there no more color I won't be able to see your beautiful hair on someone else. Your eyes, your gorgeous eyes staring at me from someone else's face. Who needs color? What is the point of it? There is no point? Many other animals live without it. Maybe if I eliminate color I can forget your face twisted in agony as you selflessly gave up your life for me.

Everything should be black. Black like the depths of agony. Black like the color my soul has turned without you here. Black like the oblivion of despair. My clothes are all black, I commemorate your memory by wearing this color. I would dye my very skin black if it would bring you back but I know it won't. You're gone. For forever. Never to be held in my arms again.

 

I see the girls walk by in their summer clothes

 

They are bright colors. What better way to celebrate summer than to pull on light airy colors? They're talking and laughing. How can they laugh? I feel as if I'm slowly being ripped apart and they laugh? Doesn't anyone care that you're dead? Is your death so inconsequential? You gave it up to spare me but no one even likes me. I have seen the look thrown my way by some. I should have died is what they think. You were a wonderful person and you gave it up for me.

 

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

 

Averting my eyes I spot instead a pair of lovers sitting on a bench cuddled up in each other's arms. Their eyes are soft and loving as they stare at each other. The unseen knife that is buried in me twists sharply and I try to contain my hurt filled cry. They have no idea what comes of love. Nothing but pain. Is that few years, months, weeks or days of sheer perfection make up for it?

Yes. Yes it does.

I know that. For every tear I shed there is a happy memory I could be dwelling on. Dancing in the moonlight. Stealing your breath with sweet kisses. Watching you catch snowflakes on your tongue. Winter always brought out the best in you.

 

I see a line of cars and they are painted black

 

I remember walking down the street and seeing funeral processions driving by. The question of who it was, who they had loved, who had loved them, what had they liked and things like that had lingered in my mind. Then the next thing was would I ever have to bury someone I loved? Mokuba? You? I already buried my parents. Sighing I slip into the limo that will take me to where you are being buried today.

 

With flowers and my love both never to come back

 

At the wake your casket had been surrounded by mountains of flowers, all your friends had been there. People I hadn't know, people I had. Through the whole thing I refused to leave your side, I didn't talk to anyone. The room was overflowing with flowers. Everyone had been cry but I had already spent all my tears. I bet many of the people who were there thought I was heartless. But what's wrong with that? If you don't have a heart you can't get hurt. I fell in love with you. You were my once in a lifetime, now my heart which when I was with you had overflowed with love now overflows with hatred and bone deep agony.

Mokuba's been real great through the whole thing. He handled the company while I took care of the arrangements for your funeral. Even though I know you wanted to be buried in the small cemetery near our home I find it hard to think of you being encased underground. Your body in a box, left to be eaten away by varmints that live underground. Forcing my mind away from that I focus in on the priest as he finishes and explains how it is customary for friends and family of the dead one to drop a handful of dirt on the coffin.

Reaching out I grab a fistful of dirt, it's moist and cool in my hand. Slowly I move my hand to hover above your open grave. I don't want to release the soil because if I do it's admitting that I'll never see you again and I don't want to believe that. Deliberately I open my hand as slowly as possible and some of the earth trickles through to hit your coffin. Carefully I turn my hand over to allow the rest of the dirt to hit your casket.

 

I see people turn their heads and quickly look away

 

It becomes too much. I snap. I break. I begin to cry. Who said that tears help? They don't. They make you hurt more. Falling to my knees I call out to you. Can you hear me? I want you to come back! I don't want to be alone. I'm all alone now. I can almost feel you caressing my cheek with your fingertips in a comforting gesture. Mokuba is unsure of what to do. All of the other people who are here don't know how to react. They don't know how to treat me. I'm a full-grown man. I'm not supposed to cry but here I am sobbing in front of everyone.

 

Like a newborn baby it just happens every day

 

That's the outsider's opinion. That is what someone who has never had someone close to him or her die thinks. It's balancing thing. Someone comes in and someone dies. Well it wasn't your time! You should have lived! Your death was wrong! No one will ever fill the void that your death has created. I shall never love again. It's not like I'm just deciding this to prove to you my love. I know this. I know I can never love. My heart won't let me. You were one and only.

 

I look inside myself and see my heart is black

 

A week after your funeral I went back to work. Everyone was wary around me, like I was a bomb about to go off. I think that they believe I'll just suddenly start crying or lash out. No, I will not give them that pleasure. My pain is only for when I'm alone. When I think about it I realize that I'm even colder than I was before you. It's like my heart has decayed into nothing. No emotions cross my granite hard features. You leaving me has killed anything human in me. I'm not as bad as Gozuburo but I am getting there.

Yugi yelled at me the other day. He said that I was wasting the life that you had given me. Yami was with him. God I hate them. They are just too perfect. I asked him what life was there to waste? A life without you is no life at all. I think he was shocked by the fact that I seemed to actually care that you were gone. Yami told him that I was just as heartless as usual and there was nothing he could do to change me.

What do they know? They have no idea of the torment I go through each night. I relive your death every time I close my eyes. I see the bullets connecting with you and flinging you backward like a rag doll. They never say what you looked like when you died. A trickle of blood coming out of the corner of your mouth; your eyes staring sightlessly ahead; your whole body limp, slowly losing any warmth whatsoever. They didn't listen to you breath out how much you loved me. They don't bear the guilt of your death on their conscious.

 

I see my red door and it's headed into black

 

Every day I make sure I pass by that damn door and I look at it and plan what I would do to it if I could. How I would scrap at the red and splash black all over it. Nothing should ever be that shade of red. Some day I will do that. Some day I'll take a hatchet to that door. Some day.

 

Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts

 

With that door gone I'll be able to stop dreaming about your death. I'll be able to hide from it. Pretend you aren't gone. Act like you're on vacation. If I get rid of that door everything will be perfect. Once the door's gone I'll be able to just disappear. Slip away and not have to exist on this plane.

 

It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

 

I think my quack told me I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder because I can't get past your death. Bullshit. He says I need to accept that you are gone. That hanging on to your memory and not letting you go is bad. He says my health will suffer if I don't. He has no clue about my lifestyle before I met you. I didn't eat cause I didn't think I had time. I didn't sleep cause I defiantly didn't have time for that. Then you came along and everything changed. The shrink has the wrong point of view on this. I don't think he's ever had the one he loves shot dead in front of his face. How am I supposed to know how to act when I have no example?

He's tried everything with me. I don't think he's ever met a more screwed up person. I don't even try to listen or understand him, I mean why should I? Mokuba said the first step on the road to recovery was acceptance and understanding. He was quoting a self-help book written by some sociopath who has probably never left their house. They probably are mentally retarded. They're probably a psych, I hate those people. They say things like: “Let's hold hands and connect.” “How do you feel about that?” “Do you want to join the circle?” I've always been both anti-social and a-social. No I don't want you to touch me! Bug off and bother someone else!

 

I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby

I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby

 

Passing by the house with that accursed red door I notice something different. There is a sign on the lawn stating that it is for sale. Now is my chance. My chance to be able to paint that door black. To be able to escape. Whipping out my cell phone I dial the number on the sign and wait. After two rings and ten seconds they pick up. I make an appointment to see the house even though I don't need to. I can't have them knowing how desperate I am for it. If they were to know they would make me pay through the nose. But anything is worth it.

 

No more will my green sea go turn a darker blue

 

I know that I won't be able to sleep tonight. There is no way. My heart won't slow down. I'm on edge waiting to buy the house. Somehow I fall asleep.

You and I are walking down the street laughing and talking. Your hand is cradled in mine; the ring is in my pocket. I want to ask you the most important question I've ever asked and hope you say yes. Together we walk out onto the pier to stare out at the Sea of Japan. It's a nice shade of green at the moment. I comment to you that I think it would look better blue. Turning to me you tilt my head and gaze deeply into my eyes.

“I love your eyes, they're so perfect. A blue that is unrivaled.” A smile sweeps your lips upward and I give in to the temptation to kiss them. It's an endless moment in which our souls merge to become one and then separate. We just stay there in each other's embrace. I'm leaning against the railing my face buried in the crook of your neck as you stroke my hair and whisper sweet things in my ear. When we finally release each other I slid an arm around your waist as you turn to look out across the sea again. I keep my gaze focused on you; I don't want to see the water.

“Look, the water's blue now,” you tell me and I turn and look. It's breath taking. Like you. Taking your hand again we walk down the pier and sit down on a nearby bench. Usually we'd just sit like this in silence enjoying just being together. But as nervous as I am I start to babble on about unimportant things. You look at me strangely before shaking your head and placing a finger over my mouth. Smiling softly you tell me to: “just spit it out.” So I do. I pull out the ring but keep it concealed in my hand. I know you don't like big spectacles so I take your left hand and slip the ring on to your ring finger and wait for your reaction.

“I want you to be mine, only mine for now and always.” You barely choke out yes before hugging me and shedding tears of happiness.

 

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

 

As we start to walk down the street you admire your ring, it's a simple design with no jewels in it because I know you don't like flashy things. It has a deeper meaning to it. On the inside “Jusqu'à la fin de temps” is engraved along with the date we met. The ring looks like a vine, lightning bolt and column of fire braided together. Spotting one of your friends you run off to tell them the good news. Shaking my head slightly I lean against a low wall and wait for you. Closing my eyes I allow myself a big smile.

“KAIBA!” Your scream echoes in my ears as I open my eyes just in time to see the multiple bullets slam into your body flinging you backwards.

 

If I look hard enough into the setting sun

My love will laugh with me before the morning comes

 

Jerking awake I stare out the window. The sun is slowly setting painting the sky a fiery orange with red streaking through it like slashes of blood. I feel my throat thickening with tears. They gather in my eyes and blur my vision turning what I was looking at into a sea of orange, yellow and red. If I concentrate hard enough I can hear you whispering and laughing with me. I miss you so much. Why did you have to go? I love you so much. Maybe by sheer will I can bring you back and we can stay together always. Jusqu'à la fin de temps. Until the end of time. Nothing will separate us. Nothing! Letting the dam break I sob into my pillow until I finally stop and drift asleep.

 

I wanna see it painted, painted black, oh

Black as night, black as coal

 

The closing was yesterday and I am now the owner of the house with that door. I stand inside and look around. It's beautiful. There are windows everywhere. You loved windows. For hours on end you would just sit and look out a window watching the world go by. At my feet are ten gallons of pitch-black paint. Shedding my coat I wander about the house aimlessly my desire to paint the door waning as I see more and more of it. I know now that this would have been your dream house. I know why the door was painted red.

 

I wanna see the sun blotted from the sky

 

Climbing up on the roof I lie down and just let the sun shine on me. For some reason this house has brought me a peace that nothing else could after your death. This is where I know I need to be. Here in this house with a blood red door. A few days ago I would have been cursing the sun for shinning so brightly but now I let myself enjoy it. Someone once said that the dead never really leave; they stay with you forever in everything you do. In every breath I draw, I inhale you. In every sound I hear, I hear you. You aren't gone. You're right here. In this house. In me.

 

Painted, painted, painted black oh baby

Painted painted, painted black

 

Staring at the black paint I know that it's not meant to cover up the red of the door. The door was painted red as a symbol to me. To guide me to my peace. Picking up the first two gallons of paint I carry them out to the car. I'm going to have them disposed. They have no more purpose. I have been freed by my red door. It made me realize I was wrong and right at the same time. You're gone, yet you're not. You are with me wherever I go. My guardian angel. I'll never love another, I know that. I have accepted that. Some may think that I should try again and not to dwell on you. That that's what you'd want. I don't know what you want. I do know that nothing will change my mind. You are my only one. Jusqu'à la fin de temps.

 

 

R&R