Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ The Journal of One, Leon Orcot ❯ April 17, 1999 ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: CrossedScarsX 
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Psychological / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 660 | Visits: 420 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Psychological / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 660 | Visits: 420 | Status: Completed
April 12, 1999
I'm worried that I might never find him. I'm wondering if I'm just an idiot who doesn't know when to quit. I sometimes think that I might die out here, alone.
Maybe I should just go back. Give up. Maybe I could return to my old job. Maybe I could find the right woman, settle down, and get a piece of that American dream type bullshit. Nah. That's not for me. But it would be a heck of a lot easier than all this running around crap.
Sometimes I think it would have been better if I never met D at all. I would still have my job, solving crimes and serving justice. If there was a little extra time in the evening, I could go to the nearest bar, down a few beers, and try to pick up chicks. Of course, most of the time, chicks wouldn't look twice at me. Then I'd end up going home by myself. God, that's lame when I think about it.
If I had never investigated Count D, my life would have remained simple. But, no! I have to go and investigate, even when there was no concrete evidence against him. All I went on was my goddamned instinct. Lately, I've been wondering if 'instinct' is even the right word. Maybe it was something else entirely. Something that I'm either unable or unwilling to admit.
What am I even going to do when I find D? I've been asking myself that question more and more often. I still don't know the answer. I mean yeah, I will give him that drawing Chris made. But what the hell else? One day I looked at a calendar and was shocked to realize that over a year had passed, and I was still on this fool's errand. What the Hell do you say to a guy after you've chased him from continent to continent, with no excuse except: “Here, you forgot this”? Hah. Maybe it'd be easier if I came up with a new excuse.
Maybe I'll just say, “Hah, found you!” or “Where the Hell have you been, you bastard!”. Then we could just start arguing like nothing had changed. I miss our arguments. They always distracted me from the drain of everyday life. In fact, I think I looked forward to them.
I can't go back. I promised myself. I promised Chris. Before I left, I told him that I wouldn't return until I found the Count and gave him that silly crayon picture. That drawing is in my backpack, wrapped up in a waterproof envelope. I might have framed it, but a picture frame isn't practical when you're back-packing around the world. I have to keep my bags as light as possible.
Damnit. Chris. If I hadn't met D, I would have sent Chris to that special school when he was shoved my way. I know D was partly the reason I kept Chris with me. I don't know WHY exactly, but I know it was his doing. He made me suddenly understand the kid, without Chris ever speaking a word. Not like I was hearing voices or anything, I could just...sense what Chris was feeling. And he was miserable.
If not for D, Chris would probably still be in that school. And he'd still be miserable. Damn, when did I get so selfish? I have to find D. Maybe what I really want to do is thank him.
Maybe.
~Leon
I'm worried that I might never find him. I'm wondering if I'm just an idiot who doesn't know when to quit. I sometimes think that I might die out here, alone.
Maybe I should just go back. Give up. Maybe I could return to my old job. Maybe I could find the right woman, settle down, and get a piece of that American dream type bullshit. Nah. That's not for me. But it would be a heck of a lot easier than all this running around crap.
Sometimes I think it would have been better if I never met D at all. I would still have my job, solving crimes and serving justice. If there was a little extra time in the evening, I could go to the nearest bar, down a few beers, and try to pick up chicks. Of course, most of the time, chicks wouldn't look twice at me. Then I'd end up going home by myself. God, that's lame when I think about it.
If I had never investigated Count D, my life would have remained simple. But, no! I have to go and investigate, even when there was no concrete evidence against him. All I went on was my goddamned instinct. Lately, I've been wondering if 'instinct' is even the right word. Maybe it was something else entirely. Something that I'm either unable or unwilling to admit.
What am I even going to do when I find D? I've been asking myself that question more and more often. I still don't know the answer. I mean yeah, I will give him that drawing Chris made. But what the hell else? One day I looked at a calendar and was shocked to realize that over a year had passed, and I was still on this fool's errand. What the Hell do you say to a guy after you've chased him from continent to continent, with no excuse except: “Here, you forgot this”? Hah. Maybe it'd be easier if I came up with a new excuse.
Maybe I'll just say, “Hah, found you!” or “Where the Hell have you been, you bastard!”. Then we could just start arguing like nothing had changed. I miss our arguments. They always distracted me from the drain of everyday life. In fact, I think I looked forward to them.
I can't go back. I promised myself. I promised Chris. Before I left, I told him that I wouldn't return until I found the Count and gave him that silly crayon picture. That drawing is in my backpack, wrapped up in a waterproof envelope. I might have framed it, but a picture frame isn't practical when you're back-packing around the world. I have to keep my bags as light as possible.
Damnit. Chris. If I hadn't met D, I would have sent Chris to that special school when he was shoved my way. I know D was partly the reason I kept Chris with me. I don't know WHY exactly, but I know it was his doing. He made me suddenly understand the kid, without Chris ever speaking a word. Not like I was hearing voices or anything, I could just...sense what Chris was feeling. And he was miserable.
If not for D, Chris would probably still be in that school. And he'd still be miserable. Damn, when did I get so selfish? I have to find D. Maybe what I really want to do is thank him.
Maybe.
~Leon