.hack//SIGN Fan Fiction ❯ Innocently Demented ❯ One Shot ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer-"I do not own Hack//sign."

Warning-Contains hinted Shoujo-ai

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It still haunts me, even after seven months, though it has died down a little. There used to never be a night where an innocent dream didn't turn into a nightmare. Now, I only see flashes and occasionally hear her voice. This, perhaps, is the worst of all. She still speaks as if I'd done nothing to her. Her words attack me and cause the guilt to eat more of my sanity away…That is if I ever had any sanity left.

Day isn't much better. Everything I pass reminds me of her in some way. I finally had gathered the courage to take down all the pictures of us together. The only one I kept from the fireplace was of her at school; the one where she sat near the Weeping Willow, holding her school books loosely on her lap. I liked this one because it was taken before she met me, before all the trouble started.

I knew I had loved her, but something small inside me did not. Every time I was alone with her, I could hear it whispering to me. I would always try to ignore that voice because I knew it wasn't true. Eventually, I gave in to it. Whatever It said would become my truth. It's lies were delicious and made me want to come back for more, as if they were laced with some sweet poison I couldn't resist.

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I loved the 'chats' we would have in that park. We would always sit in the middle, staying silent and soaking in everything because it always felt the best. The silence was never a barrier; instead it helped open the gate to our emotions and thoughts.

Too bad it was during these times when the voice would speak to me.

That night had been especially beautiful. There was a cool gentle breeze that tickled the trees and caused the grass to dance. The moon glowed brightly in a clear sky. All the stars surrounding it twinkled like beacons in that dark ocean of nothingness.

Eventually, we realized it was time to leave. I got up from my dreamy state and gripped the handles of the wheelchair tightly so it wouldn't slip. We talked about my school and the big talent show I was to participate in. Buildings pasted by and with every one an unexplained anger would spread through me. Her words sped up the infection and I became tempted to push the wheelchair away.

Our goodbyes were different that night also. A sour taste came to my mouth as I mumbled and walked back outside.

The voice became my companion on the way home and the anger was replaced with a new feeling. I finally understood what the voice and I now wanted. I began to rush back to her home, but slowed down a little. I had time.

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I carefully opened the kitchen window and crawled through. All the lights were off and the only sound came from the TV in her mother's room. I got off the counter carefully and felt around for the stove. It only took me a minute to find my weapon. It was time to end the pain I was feeling.

The sight of her peaceful figure under the sheet weakened me. My normal self was emerging from under It's strong hold. The two battled momentarily and then I got the urge back. I raised the frying pan high. Once more, I struggled. What am I doing?

I hesitated as I brought it down. The force wasn't enough and the screams began. I panicked and slammed it harder. Over and over I hit her, letting all It's rage out. As the rage left, fear replaced it.

As soon as I heard the footsteps, I threw the pan out the window and I followed it. I hit the ground and ran as fast as I could. I didn't care if anything hit me now.

Maybe it would have been best.

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I was informed the next morning of what had happened and then brought in for questioning. I'm not sure if they saw through my lies or not, but I haven't been called since.

I wish I could have told them the whole story and that I really loved her.

Or did I?