Silence

Here I am again; alone in the raven void of night. But alone, I am not for long.

He is coming. It is almost time; and He is never late.

The door creaks. I barely hear it. But then I sense Him. I feel Him watching me.

He shuts the door behind himself. Once He’s certain the others are asleep, He prowls before me.

Despite the curtain of nightfall engulfing my tiny room, I am still able to make out the expression on His face. That familiar sick, sadistic, unnerving grin I’ve grown so accustomed to.

He quickly disrobes, and slithers beneath the covers beside me.

I already know what He wants.

His hands experienced to me every rift of being, dance agilely to remove the confining restraints of clothing concealing me, protecting me.

Yet I put up no protest as He crawls atop me. I could easily rid myself of Him. We both know it. I think that’s why He keeps on coming back for more.

How revolting is that?

I feel myself wince as the hot, searing pain shoots up throughout my entire body. Yet I stay silent.

He just simpers.

I advert my gaze to the door, just so I don’t have to look into His eyes.

After what seems to be an infinite instant, He releases me from His hold, gathers His clothing, and slips out as silently as He came.

I just turn on my side and close my eyes wearily.

* * *

As I open my eyes, I’m welcomed by sunlight pouring into my room. I stretch and push the night’s events into the furthest regions of my mind.

I throw on some sweats and make my way to the kitchen, where the others are already seated.

He is watching my every move. I am the only one who sees through His falsehood...and he through mine.

I say nothing.

I see how He undresses me with His eyes deviously.

And still, I say nothing.

Once breakfast, or whatever meal it is I just ate, is over, I find myself alone in my room again. Confused as to how I got there, I lie down on my unmade bed and prop my head up with my hands.

My body calls out in exhaustion.

I try to satisfy it by dozing off, but a ruckus outside my door prevents this.

Curious, I shuffle to my door, and peek out cautiously into the hall.

He is there...But He is not alone.

There is another.

One of the other roommates.

It looks like Wufei.

I feel my heart begin beating erratically as I take in a short breath.

He begins to touch an obviously perturbed and confused Wufei playfully. He then yells at Him, while evading His rather suggestive advances.

He turns around to follow the fleeing boy, and looks at me---no, through me, as he tosses a sly, self-satisfied smirk my way.

I cower involuntarily and shut my door quickly.

It hurts. It hurts so much.I can’t understand Him.

I find myself on my bed again. The source of so many brutal nights of pain. Of humility. Of indescribable misery...and heartache.

All of my repressed memories flood me in an unexpected montage.

I try desperately to ignore images to no avail.

Yet, I stay silent.

My hands rush to my face, hoping to shake myself back into reality.

Once I deliver myself from borderline hysteria I sit up, knowing what I must do.

I scramble to my nightstand and hastily jerk it open.
After fumbling around for a few seconds, I come across what I was searching for.

I finger the smooth, cool metal before I take it into my hand and slam the drawer closed.

I stumble before my dusty mirror and rivet my eyes at the reflection.I see a scared little boy inside a broken man’s body.

My hand gently wipes uselessly at my tear-stricken face.

It falls limply to my side. My other hand, the one grasping the metallic alleiviance, as I refer to it affectionately, makes its way, barrel first, over my ravished heart.

It quivers in both anticipation and fear. The tears begin blinding my vision.

But I don’t need to see for what I am about to...for where I am going.

I cock it.

The click sends a tremor through my body. I swallow hard, and look up to the ceiling.

Unclenching my teeth, I breathe my last words to God, praying he’ll forgive both of us.

I love Him. That’s why I let this charade continue. I loved Him. I pleaded that maybe He felt the same way for me.

Today proved me dead wrong.

I let out a faint laugh. ‘Dead’. How ironic my choice of words.

I quickly regain my composure and close my eyes.

I pull the trigger excruciatingly slow, ravishing in the brutal pleasure and torment.

“I love you---“ I whisper.

I pull it all the way and fall to the floor with a loud thud.

Damn it! I was off a little. I missed my target.

The gun falls from my increasingly limp fingers. I look over to the door, hoping to see Him one last time. I don’t.

It’s getting cold. My vision is being submerged in darkness.

Tears mingle with my blood that is collecting around me.

Heero was right; dying does hurt like hell.

I draw my final rigid breath, and close my eyes.

Maybe in death I’ll be with my beloved. Maybe things will be different for me---for us.

“Quatre.”

~fin~