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ID: 112
Posted on: 2012-10-09 19:18:38

Title: Hopeless

Type: Story
Theme: Vengeance
Author: Shimoka Yomori
School: Gardner-Webb University
Class: Composition
City: Vale, NC
E-mail: ljohnson6@gardner-webb.edu

Text:

HOPELESS

A Fanfiction

I can't do this anymore, Atsushi-kun.

What are you talking about?

I mean, I we can't be an item anymore.

What? No! Chouko, I love you!

I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can do.

NO! I won't let it end like this! Please!

Atsushi, it's over! That's all there is to it!

This scenario kept repeating in my mind again and again. It had only been a week since Chouko and I had broken up. Chouko Kaniwa was the only person I'd ever loved in my life. When our relationship ended, so did my world. From there, things only got worse. I am Atsushi Inumoto, and this is my story.

I was born with a wooden spoon in my mouth. That means I was dirt poor from birth. I was always made fun of in school because of my low social status. It made loathe the arrogant rich students at my school. My parents weren't much better. I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't been abused by my parents. As far as I ow, they never really loved me. This was how my life was, day in and day out, before everything changed.

"Come on, Atsushi! Get up and be a man!" shouted Kenji. I was laying on the ground, clutching my sides in agony. Kenji, the school bully, and his friends, Ichiro and Etsuo, were laughing uproariously at me. I was filled with rage and hatred. Then Ichiro said, "You heard him, kid. 5,000 yen at 9:00 PM, front of the school tomorrow night. Don't forget, or else." Kenji and his friends then walked away while laughing and snickering. I knew I was a dead man. I couldn't get that much dough before tomorrow. I pondered this fact as I limped home.

I entered my house through the front door. Dad was standing right in front of me. Before I knew it, he had given me a face punch that knocked me back against the door. "You worthless punk! What's the meaning of coming home past your curfew?" he shouted. "I'm sorry." I said. "You think being sorry helps? On top of that, your teacher called me today and told me about your awful test scores! How do you expect to get into college, boy?" Dad shouted.

The next thing I knew, I was rushing towards the kitchen. I couldn't take it any longer. Dad was beating me to a pulp and Mom was just standing there, laughing. I managed to grab a kitchen knife from a kitchen drawer. As my father lunged towards me, I thrust out the knife in self defense; Dad was impaled on the knife. He fell to the ground, dead. My motherbegan screaming, and, panicking, I stabbed her in the neck.

I was horrified. I had just murdered my own parents. I was filled with guilt and remorse. However, I couldn't deny the freedom I felt after their murders. They would never be able to bother me again. That's when I made the last decision I would ever make. I picked up the scarlet-coated knife and headed out the door.

I showed up where Kenji and his friends had instructed me to. The trio was waiting where I knew they'd be Kenji never forgot what he was owed. "Well, where's the money?" asked Kenji. "Right here." I said. Saying this, I thrust the kitchen knife into his chest, then I did it once again. He fell to the ground, dead. His friends went down quite easily after their throats were slit. After that, there was just one last thing to take care of before it was all over.

I knocked on Chouko's door. Her father answered the door. "Can I see, Chouko, please? I owe her an apology." Her father said he would only allow it if my apology was quick. I asked where her room was, then headed straight there.

Chouko was stunned to see me at her house. "Atsushi, what are you doing here? If this is about-" "It's not. I just wanted you to know that I'm fine with us being friends. Also, I'm sorry for how I acted when you told me about our breakup." I said. "It's okay." said Chouko. "Good," I said "now all I ask is that you for give me for what I'm about to do." "Do what?" asked Chouko. I then uncovered the knife I had carefully hidden, pulled her close and buried the knife in her chest. She died quietly and soundlessly. I let her dad know I was leaving, then went on my way.

It was finished. Nothing was left to be done. Except for one thing. I walked over to my local church and opened the doors to the sanctuary. I walked to the very front and kneeled down in front of a statue of Jesus. There, I expressed remorse for my sins and pleaded for forgiveness, praying for God to have mercy on the souls of my victims. Then, I buried the knife into my own chest. In my hopeless life, I could only find hope in death.

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