Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Intruder ❯ Entry One ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Read My Diary

I've decided to start on a new fanfic, not that I'm giving up on Locked Wings. Enjoy reading and tell me what you think of it! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own CardCaptor Sakura (CCS).

Chapter one:

Have you, at one point in your life, stopped and considered keeping a journal or a diary? The kind where you just pour your heart out after some stupid incident happens in that pathetic life of yours? Yeah, well. I have.

Ok. I know how keeping a diary is really risky. I mean, anyone who finds it could just easily open it, scan a couple of lines, and bam. A part of your life's history has been entered into someone else's database. But right now, I'm just so pissed at my life right now, just so pissed, that I don't give a crap. So to hell with the person who'll ever read my diary. Good luck. Because in the end, you'll just finish dazed.

I have a father. His name is Fujitaka Kinomoto. I have a brother. Touya Kinomoto. Mother? She died. I grew up in a society where having a perfect family raises your social status. Having money is a major boost as well, but nothing compared to a perfect family. So there. Past life history. Checked.

Ok I admit. So it's not completely “checked” but you can probably infer what happened right? Shunned by people around me, ignored at home. The works. I'm used to it by now. It's just something that's a routine to me now. No one bothers talking to Sakura Kinomoto. Sakura Kinomoto might as well be dead. But what's the difference between what I'm going through and actual death? In the eyes of others, I already am dead.

Back to the intrusion of privacy. What if father read this diary? What if anyone comes across this little book? God, I can't even begin to think how they'll react. Everything I'm going to put in here… everything… it's not meant for the public. If word gets out, man. Are some people going to be in trouble.

Everything leads to something. For me, that something was bad. For others, the lucky ones, that something could be love. Fame. Fortune. Basically, paradise. It's mandatory for me to write down everything. If I don't, I fear I might go insane with everything clogged up in my mind. I laugh now and then think maybe when I die, this diary could be published as some novel. A really realistic novel.

You know… now that I think about it, it's like I'm expecting someone to come across this. I mean, here I am, scribbling furiously, and I just happened to choose second person point of view. This could be like some… deep unconscious desire of mine but whatever. I'll think about that later. Right now, let's just focus on that everything.

My life was great. That's right. Great. There's nothing I would've wanted more. But how did I go from that sweet little girl who likes to dance around in the park barefooted to a person writing… this? Just stick with me. You'll see why eventually. And trust me, it won't be pretty…

Me, Age 5…

“Mommy mommy!” Shrieking with delight, I pointed at the ice cream truck just across the street. “It's the ice cream man!”

My mother, Nadeshiko Kinomoto, stood behind me. My fingers curled around her soft hand lightly. I looked back up at her with a smile plastered all over my face. My eyes shone with excitement. My mother laughed and shook her head. Instantly, my mouth drooped into a frown.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?” I begged, hoping to get through that stone heart of hers.

“No dearie,” said mother sternly, “ice cream is unhealthy.”

“Aww,” I groaned, “Just this once? It's summer and it's just so so hot.”

I put up the face. The face. You know, that face. The one with big round eyes, just staring up with a cute little pout on my face. I batted my eyelashes a couple of times for good measure and held my hands behind me. She crumpled within five seconds.

Hah. Works everytime.

“Ok fine,” sighed my mother. She knelt down next to me and pointed with an outstretched arm over at the truck's ice cream pictures. “Do you see the one you want?”

“Yay!” I leapt with glee and gave a her a big hug. “Thank you mommy!”

She grumbled, “You're lucky I'm such a big softie,” and tousled my auburn curls.

“Umm..” I squinted into the far far distance just across the street. A crowd had formed around the truck, ages ranging from five to thirteen. “I want… strawberry crème!”

“Alright,” said mother. She got back up and looked down at me, “Stay where you are Sakura and don't move until I get back.”

I nodded vigorously and motioned for her to just get moving. I bounced from one foot to the other excitedly as I stretched my neck to see over the crowd and trace mother's figure. Eventually, I lost her when she turned to the back of the truck. I stood there tapping my foot impatiently and finally, after waiting forever, I saw her figure picking through the crowd.

Miraculously, she had broken through from the crowd and came walking to me bearing two treasures with a smile on her face. I laughed at the two ice cream in her hands. Two. And who was the one saying ice cream was unhealthy?

Just when she was about the cross the last stretch of cement and return back to the sidewalk to me, a loud screeching from tires caught my attention. I swung my head to the right and gasped when I saw a car swerving this way and that coming into this direction.

I would never forget that moment. That image of my mother, smiling and holding our ice creams, and the car just a few feet away from her. The horrified look on my mother's face. The sound that a car and a body makes when they collide. The hysterical laugh of the drunk driver. The ice cream, the damn cursed ice cream, lying on the floor and melting. Everything that happened within that moment became imprinted into my mind forever. There was no escaping it.

My breath hitched in my throat as I stared wide eyed at my mother's still body. Her blood seeped into the street cracks. I stood there, frozen. Paralyzed. The screams that came from the audience around me became muted. All I could see was her and only her.

Suddenly, something snapped in me.

I inhaled deeply and let loose an ear splitting scream and I ran towards mother, “MOMMY!” I squatted next to her, tears welling in my eyes. I didn't know what to do. Everywhere was blood but I didn't care. Slowly and shakingly, I put my hands on her shoulders and I started shaking her.

“Mommy?” I whimpered as my tears left a trail of liquid down my cheeks, “Mommy? Wake up. Wake up, Mommy, wake up! WAKE UP!” I was bawling at this point. The people around me shielded their children from the horrifying sight of a woman's dead body. I brushed the tears off roughly with my hands, stained with blood and I resumed shaking her. I called out to her until my throat grew raw, but still she remained unmoving.

Suddenly, a pair of hands lifted me from my kneeling position. By that time, my knees were already bleeding and numb from the rough cement floor. The driver was nowhere to be seen. It was a hit and run.

My eyes widened in shock at the sudden contact. It turned out that someone had called the police. They rummaged through my mother's purse and found her ID. A policewoman, pulled me over and started questioning me.

“Is that your mother”

“Did you see who did this?”

“Do you remember what the vehicle's license plate said?”

“Where's your father?”

So many questions but I remained in my state of shock. What had been a trip to the ice cream truck had been a trip to death.

What did I say to her before she left to go buy me ice cream? Oh god. How can I forget? I ran through my memories but everything seemed all blurry and illegible.

“Sakura!”

I stared blankly at the rushing figure of otou-san running up to me. He pushed me into his arms and started to soothe me with soft words of comfort. It did no good. The damage was done. I had witnessed the death of my mother at the age of five.

And I was the reason why she died.

At the funeral:

My arms were latched onto my father's waist as I grimly watched the black coffin being lowered down into the big hole reserved for Nadeshiko Kinomoto. My brother stood off to the side, wearing the same expression as me. Everywhere was a sea of black. I myself donned on a black dress. Silence rang across the crowd as everyone stared and soon lost sight of the coffin. The shoveling of dirt began and soon, the hole was gone and in it's place was a piece of solid ground. Well, seemingly solid.

After the accident, I remained quiet and stunned for a long time. My eyes were often seen looking off into the distance and my mind was always wandering off somewhere else. My voice became soft and I never asked for anything else, not after what happened. More so, I never asked for ice cream again.

I cried softly into my father's shirt. He patted my back gently but didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Anything he said would've been filtered by my mind and would've been wasted on me.

From then on, I grew to be completely independent and I became an adult at the age of five. Not physically, just mentally.

Didn't I warn you? My diary is anything but ordinary. You won't find the usual lovey-dovey things in this little book. Oh no. There's much more that goes on that that. Just stick with me.

I'll tell you all about it.

How's that for a first chapter? It's my first attempt at angst so I'd really appreciate it if you would review. Thanks!