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Pierrot POV Series	By : indira Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Pierrot Views: 1585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Pierrot. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Title: Creative Master, Stage II Author: Indira Neill E-mail: inofangirl@yahoo.com Archive/Mirror: hai hai Genre: whatever I damn well feel like. Band/Pairing: Pierrot/Kirito, Jun, and Aiji in variousbinabinations. Comments: I now realize people have finals (silly highschool me doesn't so um, yeah) But I actually want to wrap this one up and such. Thinking of other ideas to follow. Also, the illness Jun has does exist, I have it, (but I still have my voice, lucky me)
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Sometimes I wake up drowning.
Even now. It's been almost a year and I still wake up drowning. I can still remember the blood. I never thought the human body could contain so much blood. Everywhere in the apartment. Everywhere. And it belonged to everyone. They tested every drop. Everyone's blood was found. Well, except Takeo. They found my blood on the walls and carpet, Shinji's on the sheets, Shinya's, Kohta's, god Kohta's.
Our harmless little masochistic game. We all got to play masochist and we all got to play sadist. It was so fucking harmless. You never think about how it hurts others who aren't actually playing. Kohta, he had nothing to do with this. Nothing, and yet he died. Shinya killed him and then he killed himself. I should call him fucking selfish but I can't. I was the selfish one. I was the one who had to fall in love with two men. I realize now how much I loved Shinji. Afterwards, when I realized how much I loved him, I never got a chance to tell him face to face. After seeing Shinya's blood stained apartment, I couldn't bear to tell anyone I loved.
It was a media circus afterwards. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and to make it worse everyone was harassing me, calling me. The worst, was on Shinya's birthday, someone sent me a pig's heart. It was immature and stupid and it hurt like hell. It's hard to imagine what it's like having to tell complete strangers about your sexual habits, expeically when they are far more then ordinary fare. But the investigation. God, that was the most painful thing I have had to do in my entire life.
Six months, six months e I'e I've seen Shinji. Funny, after going through all the paperwork and questions and everything I can't call him Aiji anymore. Aiji was just like Kirito. An interesting diversion to hide their true selves. During Pierrot, I was less then myself while Shinya and Shinji were completely different people. They created Kirito and Aiji.
I'm sick all the time now. I vomit nearly every day, so I can't sing at all anymore. It hurts even to speek. Doctors say its stress. And there is nothing they can really do to treat it. They keep taking me off foods. I don't drink soda or eat chocolate or tomatoes or citrus or anything with a flavor really. Some days are better then others. On those days nothing comes up when I gag. I just keep gagging. That's why I don't go out anymore. People worry about me. Ask me if I'm ok, I don't need their pity. I don't fucking need it. It's as if my whole body has betrayed me. I don't know why anyone would be bulimic. It hurts so much. Some days I don't eat because I don't want to gag. Sometimes I don't even have to eat for it to start. I start choking on nothing and I can't stop. Choking on my own saliva. Then there is little more that I can do then curl up in a ball and hope for it to go away. For the convulsions in my stomach to stop. To be able to go through a single day without waking up sick. But there's nothing they can do. I have to cure this myself. There is nothing physically wrong with me they say. But even so I'm vomiting up blood lately. God, I'm drowning in blood.
I should be thankful. Thankful I have the food to vomit up. Thankful that there are doctors to tell me there is nothing they can do. I should be fucking thankful. I should be thankful I get migranes and cannot see. I should be thankful I can wake up each day to misery. I should be thankful I can remember that the person I love is dead. I should be thankful for all the little things life has given me.
Most days I sit around my dark apartment. Sometimes I watch tv or something. I never listen to music. I still have my guitar. And those simple songs I wrote but never showed to anyone. But I never look at them. I remember hearing, after hide died Yoshiki stopped playing the drums. But he didn't give up on music. I wish I could be that strong. I can't bear to even listen to the music of others. Together, Pierrot, we could have done anything together. Shinya and Shinji were so talented. Violently talented, more then I could ever hoped to be. I looked at my songs once. About three months afterwards. They were so childish, empty, superficial. Now I understand myself a little better. If I had the will to write I could surpass my previous efforts instantly. Now that I don't have the chance I finally understand music. I mean, I have the chance, but I'm not ready to take on that much pain at once.
Takeo is really the only person I see now. Takeo was the only one not invovled in this, but he's hurt. Perhaps more then I'll ever know he's hurt. He comes by every once in awhile. To make sure I'm eating mostly. I tell him it hurts to eat and its not worth it but he makes me. My sister comes too. Not as often but she does come. She asks me if Takeo's been feeding me.
At least I know there are people who stil care about me. I know people remeber me as more then Kirito's masochistic playtoy.
I wonder, why is masochism bad? What makes it 'bad'? People don't talk about it. They don't use it as a conversation piece. I admit it's not the best topic and all, but it still doesn't seem bad. I mean, why is it that what they all wanted from me is to be Kirito's lover and they find out its true and they back away, they scold me, they send me pigs' hearts? Isn't this what the fangirls wanted from us? Its funny to think about. They find out their fantasies are real and it scares them. Its fine in pen and ink. But in flesh and blood it's digusting and flity. But when its just in their head's its the greatest fucking thing in the world.
I still have the two little white scars. They healed every night but they'll never go away now. Nor do I want them to go away. I know they're still there because I asked Takeo. One day, I took off my shirt and demanded Takeo look for my scars. I had to know if they were still there. He told me they were and he looked like he was going to cry. I've never seen Takeo cry before. He just stood there and held me. It felt nice, to know he cared about me.
I'm not as fucking naive as I was back then. I'm still not quite sure of my place in this world or if I even matter. But that's not the point. The point is if I was gone I know Takeo would care, my sister would care, hell, my parents would care. So does it really matter if I made an impact in this world? Maybe not but people loved me so I impacted them. And as much pain as I'm in I want to go on living. Shinya hurt me more then he ever thought possible. And this wasn't a masochistic pain. It ripped my chest up as much as Shinya did Kohta's. I know every fucking detail of the case. Fifty-eight slash wounds on Kohta's chest, fifty-eight.
There really will be no concusion to this. Because even though we will all die eventually there is no way to resolve . We. We will carry the scars and blood stains for the rest of our lives. And as much as we try to hide them, everyone can see them. I see stains on my hands because I know I could have stopped this. I know I could have saved someone. I hope I could have saved someone.
I'm not good for anything now. I'm just taking up space for the most part. Takeo said I could move into his apartment. That would probally make things easier for him. So he doesn't have to come all the way down here to see me. But then agian the last thing I need right now is more media coverage. And the masochistic playtoy moving in with the one member of the band still alive he hasn't slept with might not come across very well. But then again, I'm getting worried about myself. I've been getting more suicidal lately and I know that's not what I want. I know I want to keep on living. Takeo could keep me form doing something stupid. Of course, I don't smoke or drink anymore. The problems with me kind of rule those out. They say its nerves but take away the few things I had to clam those nerves.
I've been laying in the bathtub for quite awhile now. Trying for the 50000th time to wash the blood from my body. I sit there sometimes until my skin puckers and I barely resemble a human but then again my mental state is far from human. I feel like an animal sometimes. A confused scared animal. The water is hot, nearly scalding even though I've been here for almost and hour. It's still hot. It must have burned me when I first put it in. But I can't quite remember. All I know is right now feel a little bit cleaner,
And I have no fear of drowning here.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Pierrot POV Series