So, yeah. Here's a story idea, read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do you really think I own Yugioh Gx?
Chapter 1: Prologue
It's like I was seeing everything from a bird's eye view. A younger me was sitting on a couch with a younger version of my little sister, Jacey. We were watching T.V. while waiting for our father to come home. I knew mom was downstairs in the kitchen, making dinner for us. My sister and I laughed at something on T.V.. It seemed like the night was going perfectly and smoothly, that is, until we heard tires screeching on asphalt as a car slowed in front of our house, and then the familiar bumps of someone going over the curb as they turned into our driveway.
That was the first clue something was wrong. Our father never went into the driveway, and never at that speed.
Little me and little Jacey jumped up, not suspecting anything. We looked out the window to see our father's car. He stumbled out of the car and slammed the door shut.
That was the second clue. He would never slam it shut, for fear of influencing us of doing the same and therefore destroying his car.
Little me and little Jacey cried out happily and then ran out of the room to go meet our father at the door. I followed out of the room and saw little me helping little Jacey down the stairs.
The front door slammed open as our father walked in. He slammed it shut again and locked it.
That was clue number three. Our door was almost never locked, and certainly not during the day when everyone was home and awake.
Mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She smiled and went over to her husband.
"Happy birthday, dear," she said, kissing him. She pulled back almost instantly, wrinkling her nose. "Have you been drinking?" she asked.
Jacey and little me didn't know what that meant, and didn't care either. Jacey ran over and jumped at our father like she always did, intending for him to catch her as he always did. It was their little game. Little me was following behind, a bit slower, and he didn't jump up.
But this time, since our father was drunk, he didn't catch her. He stumbled and hit his head on the wall. Jacey fell to the ground, stunned and confused. Our father screamed and held his head. Jacey began to cry. She hated it when people yelled. Mom bent down and picked Jacey up, setting her on her feet again and kneeling down to her level. She was saying something about going upstairs. Neither little me nor little Jacey had any chance of doing so though.
Present me, watching everything from above, knew what was going to happen next. Little me though, didn't stand a chance or have a clue.
Well, technically he had four, but little me wasn't about to put a puzzle together right now.
Father picked Jacey up and threw her across the room, screaming foul words at her as he held his head. Jacey cried out as she hit the wall, crashing to the ground. Some pictures came down around her, the glass shattering and bouncing off of Jacey. My mother and I just stood there for a moment, stunned that he would do such a thing.
We were snapped out of our trance when my father started walking slowly over to my sister. Little me had always hated it when Jacey cried, and she looked so terrified when she looked up and saw our father walking towards her. Only she could see the murderous glint in his eyes. And she did the only thing a four year old would know of doing in this situation, and cried.
My father kicked Jacey, not only certainly breaking a few ribs, but sending her sprawling across broken glass. She was crying so hard now, from all the pain and the fear and the confusion…. I did what any other older brother would do in this situation and ran over to the man I called father, kicking him as hard as I could in the shin and hitting him with my fists, telling him to leave her alone. My mother started screaming as well, pulling my father away from Jacey. I was knocked over, cutting my hands on some of the glass. I couldn't have cared less though. This man was hurting my little sister. I was determined to make him stop. It didn't matter anymore that he was my father.
I looked around for something -anything- that I could use as a weapon. I saw a piece of a picture frame. It certainly wouldn't hold up for long, but it would have to do. I grabbed the piece of wood and stood up. I swung it like a bat, and because of my size compared to my father's, I hit him in the stomach. He doubled over, at a loss of breath more than from pain. He turned his eyes towards me, and I have never known such fear as I did that day, staring in these familiar eyes, but seeing such hate, hate that was directed at me.
He grabbed me around my neck and hoisted me into the air, slamming me into the wall. The back of my head hit one of the nails a picture had been hanging from. I cried out in shock and in pain. My mother was torn between helping my sister and helping me. She settled for tending to my sister's injuries while yelling at my father to stop it.
His response was punching little me across the face, snapping my head sideways. I can still remember the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My father shouted at me some more before socking little me in the gut. My hands immediately went from prying my father's hands off of me to covering the now injured area.
Little me was out of breath now, struggling through the pain. I knew Jacey was much worse off than I was. She was losing consciousness fast, if she hadn't already. Mother was gone from the room, but I could hear her talking, probably on the phone, calling for help.
Father heard this too, and he didn't like that much, so he dropped me and went over the phone, slapping it out of my mother's hands and disconnecting it. Then he turned his attention back to little me. Little Jaden panicked and ran upstairs, running into the first room and closing the door behind myself. I was in the T.V. room, so the door had no lock.
Present me apparently followed wherever little me went, and I just sort of phased through the door and watched as little me looked around in a panic, searching for a hiding spot. I could hear my father's heavy steps as he walked up the stairs, coming after me. The door opened, and little me screamed in fear and shrunk down into a ball, trying to protect himself.
That didn't stop my father. He picked little me up again and shouted in his face. Little eight year old me started crying, and then started kicking and screaming. I managed to kick my father in the chest, knocking the wind out of him again. That was apparently the wrong thing to do.
Present me was terrified. Present me knew what was happening. Present me screamed myself awake as little me was sent hurtling through the air, crashing into the window and going right through it, following to the hard ground below.
Present me jolted upright, successfully bashing my head into the bunk above my own and nearly knocking myself unconscious.
"Owwww," I complained, holding my head. Whether it was my screaming or my banging into his bunk, Syrus had woken up. He looked over the edge of his bed and down at me.
"You okay?" he asked, his grey eyes full of concern. Hassleberry kept snoring on the top bunk. Must have woken Syrus just because of how hard I hit his bunk. Speaking of which…
"Been better," I admitted, slipping out of bed and going over to the mini-fridge/freezer we had in the dorm. Thank you Chumley!
(I doubt this is actually in the dorm, but in my fanfic it is, XD)
I grabbed a few pieces of ice and put them in a washcloth, then put that on my forehead.
"What was your dream about?" Syrus asked. I tensed up a bit. I wasn't exactly ready for anyone to know about that yet.
"I forget. Hitting my head must have knocked it right out of me," I joked. I leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor.
"Do you want me to get Miss. Fontaine?" he asked. NO! No need to let the staff know I'm having bad nightmares!
"That's okay!" I said a little too hastily. He looked at me with a face that clearly said I-don't-believe-you-but-I'll-let-it-go. I should go back to bed and pretend to sleep, making it even more believable that I'm okay when I'm not.
But I really didn't want to get up right now…And I was scared I would actually go to sleep again, and I knew what dream I would have.
Wait, did I say dream? I meant horrifying nightmare!
"Are you sure?" Syrus asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I said. It was true enough. The pain in my head would fade before long, and soon enough I'd be able to forget I had the dream and move on, like I always did when this came up.
How was that? It wasn't too confusing during the dream was it? I tried to separate little Jaden and present Jaden, though I don't know if I succeeded at doing so…
Let me know what you think! Or at least that you're reading!