With This Knife

Disclaimer: Koritsu belongs to someone I used to RP with on Yahoo, her screen name was hawokuishibaru. But Ramnia is mine, even though my ex thought of his name.

A/N: My first original fic. How exciting. Maybe, if people like it enough, I'll write more about my sadomasochistic vampire/green mage. So, please review.

I let myself fall into a lie
I let my walls come down
I let myself smile and feel alive
I let my walls come down
No matter how I try I don\'t know why
You push so far away
You wrapped your hands tight around my heart
And squeezed it full of pain
~ Smile Empty Soul- With This Knife
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I don't know why I'm still here in this abandoned church when he was the one who took me here the first time I tried to sit out and wait for the sun to end my cursed, undead existence. I never asked for these fangs, never wanted to be unable to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. My plants get that freedom, but my stupidity and pigheadedness is what changed all that.

They're growing all around me, the violets I dubbed his flower. I can't make myself get rid of them, even though I want to act as if he'd never ended my life and made me feel pain again. Now I know why, after Joel's death, I never wanted to get close to someone again.

Damn Koritsu. Damn him and his manipulative little mindfuck ways, acting like he cared about me when all he was doing was siphoning off my good energy because he's a sick, twisted little psyvamp without a heart. If I ever see him again, I'll drain every last drop of blood from his body, then cover it with grass so that nobody ever finds it. Oh, the joys of being able to make things grow.

Stupid motherfucking violets. They're everywhere, a patch of them for every place in here that we fucked. The place is practically covered in tiny little purple flowers, especially the pews. I thought he was the best thing that ever happened to me. Turns out that the best day with him was the last one.

I've got a knife in my hand, but I don't know what I'll do with it. Cut myself and the wounds will just heal again as if they weren't even there in the first place. But it'll still hurt and I think I want to physically hurt just as much as my insides are hurting. So maybe I will use it.

Never again will I actually trust people, let them talk me into anything, or claim feelings for me. Because who could care for a sadomasochistic, antisocial, green mage and vampire who walks around wishing time could be turned back nearly three years? I don't think anybody could.

But at the same time, I won't sit out and wait for the sun to fry me. Got a promise to keep and I've forgotten that twice. Joel, forgive me for nearly breaking a vow to you. Things promised to dead lovers are serious and should never be forgotten.

Up above me, the wind is making the church bell ring and, without really thinking, I find myself climbing up to the bell tower. Koritsu, the little pussy, was scared of heights and never followed me up here after the time I threatened to drop him off and laugh as he hit the bottom. I would have done it, too.

The bell keeps ringing as I sit there and look out at the people passing by in the dead of night. Not one of them ever bothers to come inside this rundown church and consider what it might have been like once, back before god only knows what happened to shut it down. Well, I think I know part of what happened and it has to do with a certain bloody room and bed as well as things I was once told. But I don't care because that was Koritsu's story and I'm glad he's not in my life anymore.

The scared fucker ran off after I nearly killed him for"¦I believe it was the third time. That was a few days ago and I still can't believe I trusted him. I let him know why I'm such a bastard most of the time, why I'm haunted by a ghost nobody else can see, and what exactly I was doing when I got myself turned against my will.

I'd asked for death, then, but was given undeath instead.

My left foot dangles off the edge while I open the knife and think for a moment. Will cutting and having to be healed mess up the elaborate tattoo of vines on my right arm? Don't wanna risk it since the artwork is the only real thing I have to remind me of Joel. I pull up my right pants leg then, look at the nice, unmarked skin, and nod to myself before slowly cutting.

Pain feels better than I remember, and the blood just trickles off my leg and onto the cold stone I'm sitting on. Then the cuts heal themselves and the pain fades, so I do it again while humming to myself, a song about being hurt and cutting out emotions and caring. It fits me perfectly.

After a while, I've had enough pain, so I stop, lower my pants leg, fold the bloody knife up, and just sit there for most of the night, looking up at the stars that will never come close to making me happy. I miss the sun, I miss my old life, and I miss Joel. But I'll never have any of those again, so I guess I better be getting used to this. A year should be enough time to adapt to a new lifestyle.

In my case, maybe eternity will never be long enough.