Lingering Phantom

Summary: I’m still haunted by your voice, your phantom lingering near by, always. I will never ever be free of you.

My feet slams against the mattress, as I flip around landing on my hands. I propel myself using my hands as leverage my feet slam against the soft mattress. I use the speed to flip myself over, vaulting over the object.

I land on the other side, panting heavily.

“Well done Azure,” my coach shouts. “We’ll win the championship for sure! Good luck tomorrow.”

I head to the locker room. I open my locker, taking out my water bottle and opening it with a quick turn of my hands. I raise it to my lips, letting a trickle of water seep out, quenching my thirst.

“Great job out there, Azure,” Breeze Dancer smiles.

The rest of the girls’ nod, casting me their bright smiles. “You did great Azure.”

I nod, smiling appreciatively. “You did well too.” I wrap my arms around Breeze, allowing her warmth to pour into me, wiping away a bit of my darkness. My eyes dart around the room, a pale blue flicker in the edge of my vision.

I wait until the rest of the girls file out the locker room before I slouch heavily against the wall, letting my mask fall. You appear, the pale blue phantom, an unwanted remnant from my past.

You smile, leaning across from me. What’s wrong Azzy? You say, smiling coldly. You, my mother, the person who was supposed to protect me, to hug me and kiss me.

Not you, never you. We had a special relationship. You would smile and crack your whip. I shiver in fear as I hear that loud sound again and again, reverberating around in my skull. Ten lashes, twenty lashes scored in my back, a permanent touch from you, a magical scar blessed by you. Your hand, landing on my back, forming bruises in the shape of a fist on my skin.

You’re exactly where you belong right now, trapped behind bars. You won’t stay there though. I know you well, very well in fact. You’ll escape soon, it’s not a matter of how, it’s a matter of when.

You walk towards me, tilting my chin up. How cute you sneer, gazing at me with hatred and contempt in your blue eyes. You have a friend, but friends are tools. Dispose of her when you’re finished with her.

I shake my head, trying to quench my fear. “She’s a great friend.”

You smile warmly, another mask. You pick your masks like girls pick their clothes. A mask for every occasion, a smile to match every mask. A thousand brilliant facades.

You lean in, your lips beside my ear. You’re worthless, you glare at me before you simply vanish like a phantom.

I gulp, glancing around waiting for you to appear again. Pathetic, worthless, useless. Your insults work their way into my brain. I blink my tears away as I lean on the row of lockers. I can’t be weak, I have to be strong. Weakness is abhorred by you. Weakness means I’ll get whipped again, that I'll get beat again.

I close my eyes, breathing in the clean air not tainted by your presence. You are like poison, every step, every move, every whisper, insidious and venomous.

I quickly peel off my gym uniform, putting on my pair of jeans and a bright green tank top. I reach into the back pocket of my jeans, my hand wrapping around the handle of your knife, your favourite knife. I glance at the scars at my hand, tracing each one carefully. A mixture of your marks and mine. Your love and mine entwining like two halves made whole.

I take out your knife, a small pocketknife which you used to call Poison Tai. I remember the violent screams, the sobs that would follow, and the blissful silence afterwards. I flip the blade open, holding the metal portion up.

I watch as the light gleams on every part of the metal surface. It looks beautiful, stunning. I walk over to the sink. I bring the knife down violently, a sharp pain like the flicker of your warm smiles shoots up my wound. Warm red drips cascade down my arm splattering in the sink. I’ll paint the whole town red Mommy. I’m doing it, I’m doing exactly what you wanted me to do.

I exhale, allowing physical pain to dull emotional pain. Time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t heal scars. The many scars layered in my back, and on my arm. The scars I bear on my heart, invisible to all but myself.

I’m flawed, imperfect, serving your bidding. I was your slave, am, am your slave. You still control me. I can hear you now Mommy, your voice chittering excitedly, your hand stained, a familiar stain. You killed again.

I bring the knife down again and again, opening fresh and old wounds, the old and new mixing together, blood seeping down my arm.

Occasionally I would bring the knife to my wrist, wondering if I should just end it all. A simple cut to my ulnar artery. A final cut.

Coward, you sneer.

I slowly put your knife away. I could never defy you, your whip would crack again if I thought about defiance. Your hands clenching into fists, slamming punch after punch into me.

This knife, your knife took many lives. Ten in fact. Ten years, ten victims, ten lives destroyed permanently.

I wonder if they would come after me, the parents of the children you took from them. They trusted you, a surgeon. You would smile and nod. You would start, making precision cuts, to fix the damage. You liked your victims in perfect shape after all.

You would inject them with beta blockers, slowing their heart rate and fake their deaths. You were also a coroner, so you could just take the body with no question. You would report that there were significant problems with the investigation and that the body was destroyed in the process. You would report postoperative problems and apologize fruitlessly.

I clench my hands tightly, forcing you out of my mind for now. I must focus on the competition tomorrow. I had to focus. Victory at any cost, failure means I get whipped. Failure is unacceptable.

Leaving the locker room, I bump into Breeze. I plaster a smile. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home?”

“I wanted to wait for you,” Breeze wraps her arms around me. “I was worried about you.”

Breeze’s hug was different from yours. Breeze’s hug was unfamiliar, but warm and comforting.

My lips curl into a genuine smile as I hear the concern in Breeze’s voice. It was nice having someone to care about me for once, it was nice being loved.

“I’m fine,” I say softly.

Breeze frowns as she grabs my arm, staring at it in dismay. “Azure are you cutting again?”

My smile turns tight. I yank my blood-soaked arm backwards. “You’ve gone too far. I’m perfectly fine.”

Breeze nods, looking at me sorrowfully. “I hope you’re alright.”

“What are you doing here?”

I turn, noticing Midnight Blade’s arrival. His sneer ever so present.

“Midnight,” I glare, I still haven’t forgotten his betrayal. “We just came back from the gymnastics competition. Now leave us alone.”

Midnight smirks, his cold blue eyes flashing furiously. “I don’t think so Azure. You still haven’t learned have you?”

“I don’t talk to traitors,” I sneer, my heart pounding painfully. Memories flicker in my mind of happier times, when there were five of us. Now I only had Breeze left.

Midnight’s eyes widen in disbelief. “I’m the traitor? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“You left me,” I shout. “You abandoned me.”

“You’re dangerous Azure,” Midnight sighs, narrowing his eyes at me. “I noticed things, how you would sometimes glance at us, your friends with wild eyes. Something dark lies in there. You aren’t sane at all, you’re sick and twisted.”

I blink my eyes, feeling tears pricking my eyes.

“You’ve gone too far Midnight,” Breeze glares at him.

I glance at Midnight. My depraved fantasies return. I envision stabbing Midnight again and again, watching him choke on his own blood, the life leaving his eyes which turn glassy. I recoil in horror. He’s right, he’s so right. Something heavy presses down on my chest, a darkness churning violently, pulling me downwards, down into your arms.

“Come on Breeze,” Midnight scoffs. “Look at her,” Midnight jabs a finger in my direction. “She’s doing it again, she’s insane. She’s a monster. Why can’t you see it?”

“She’s my friend,” Breeze sneers. “She’s not a monster, how dare you say that?”

The heavy feeling disappears, my darkness recedes as I glance at Breeze. She’s actually defending me, she actually cares about me.

“I’m very disappointed in you Breeze,” Midnight shakes his head. “I thought that you could see reason. If you ever change your mind and stop hanging with this monster then you can join Scarlet, Crimson, and I again.”

“I can, I just don’t see it as you would. Also, I will never join with you guys again,” Breeze glares at Midnight.

Midnight shoots me one last glare as he walks away.

Breeze turns towards me, glancing at me in concern. “Are you okay?”

I nod, smiling gratefully at Breeze. “Thanks for,” I gesture at the spot where Midnight was standing.

Breeze shrugs, smiling brightly. “What are friends for?”

A bitter taste enters my mouth. Would I have defended Breeze like that? Would I have helped her like she helped me? I want to say I would, that I would do the same thing. Inwardly I know however. I know that I wouldn’t because for the first time it wasn’t me being picked on.

Lingering Phantom Part 2

“Let’s go,” Breeze’s fingers seek my hand, holding it up, showing our bond, united as one.

We share a smile, before I shake my head sadly.

“I want to walk home alone today,” I mumble, praying that Breeze wouldn’t hate me. “I just have a lot of stuff to think about.”

“Don’t listen to anything Midnight said,” Breeze smiles, kissing me on the cheek. “He’s wrong, I know he is.”

“But what if,” I hesitate, unable to divulge my innermost fantasies, my dark desires that I always kept in control, unwilling to release them.

“Trust me okay? We’re best friends after all,” Breeze wraps her arms around me, bringing me into her embrace.

I lean in, inhaling her scent which always seems to calm me. That flowery fragrant smell that was distinctly my friend. Breeze was my best friend, my only true friend left. The only one who hasn’t abandoned me, who never called me names behind my back. I had others, but they would always whisper behind my back.

“Okay,” I nod, as my darkness recedes a little bit more.

I wave at Breeze as I head to the front door.

“See you tomorrow,” Breeze shouts, beaming at me.

I push open the front door and leave the school behind. I brush my locks out of my face, heading to my new house.

It was a house, not a home. It didn’t have your touch. It missed your cold and clinical precision, your hatred, your cruelty branded into the walls of the house forever, marking it as yours. It was like the scars I bear, I guess I wasn’t the only one you branded.

I slip into my house quietly. I didn’t want to deal with my foster parents right now. They were weird, different from you. Where you greet me with a cold smile, twirling a knife. They would greet me with warm smiles, wrapping their arms around me softly, embracing me tightly.

“Hello Azure.”

I wince, turning to my foster father. “Mark.”

Mark smiles brightly. “How was school honey?”

“Fine,” I say, my voice clipped. I need to get away from him now. He’s unnatural or maybe I’m unnatural. It was nice being loved for once, but it was different. My foster father just wasn’t you, and for some strange reason I want you. I still love you Mommy.

“Don’t forget to take your medication,” he holds out three pills to me.

I glare at it, taking the medication from his hands. Risperidone. Apparently, everyone thinks I’m mentally ill or something. A doctor I saw said I was diagnosed with schizophrenia, some sort of mental illness that makes me weird to society apparently. That I couldn’t understand reality.

It was a lie I know it. I wasn’t schizophrenic, I couldn’t be. You made sure of that. Every time I was sick or ill you beat it out of me, never allowing me medication. You would whip and whip me again until I beat the illness with my own willpower. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger after all.

If you found out that I was mentally ill, you would certainly beat me over and over until it broke. Mental illnesses can’t even be broken. I did not have one, only weaklings had one. I have to be strong, not weak.

I shove the pills in my mouth, making a swallowing sound while hiding them under my tongue. I run up the stairs, spitting out the pills in a wad of tissue paper. I crumple the paper, throwing it in the garbage can.

I wasn’t schizophrenic, I had no need for the medication. I sigh, lying on the bed. It was pointless to convince them.

Love is painful you whisper. Love causes nothing but pain. You get a brief flash of euphoria but in the end, you get hurt, you always get hurt. Nothing else could change that.

You appear once more, a pale ghostly blue, or perhaps that was my imagination. What’s wrong Azzy? You whisper, plopping yourself on my bed.

“Nothing’s wrong Mommy,” I sigh.

You’re lying, you sneer. You remember what happens if you lie to me don’t you?

I wince painfully, of course I remember. We played a game that day. Another one of your twisted games. You love to thrust a knife between each of my fingers, twirling it around and slicing open the back of my hand. You love to watch the red fluid gushing out of my wound. You whipped me afterwards, whispering to me soothingly. I love you so much Azzy.

“They’re lying to me, all of them. My foster parents keep on telling me I’m schizophrenic. It’s not true, I do not have a mental illness. They have it out for me. The rest of my friends, except for Breeze, are all lying too.”

You know what we do to those who dare to lie to us don’t we? You murmur.

I do remember, we dispose of them of course, but I could only reply “I remember.”

Good little Azzy you coo. Friends are only tools of course, but do you remember why?

Why? Why? I shut my eyes painfully flicking through memory after memory. I had gotten so used to you telling me what to do that I forgot the most important thing: the reason.

Why should friends be only tools? Why are they all disposable? My head throbs as I try to remember, try to picture you, your cold blue eyes staring at me. Our special method of communication.

Sometimes you would merely look at me, you would smile warmly, beckoning me closer. You would tell me something with your eyes and I had to guess what it was. It was one of the only games we played that I didn’t get hurt.

You would look at me, a thousand things you wanted to say but you could never bring yourself to say. It was much too painful you would whisper with your lips quivering, your eyes glossy with tears. It was rare to see you cry, you almost never broke. You would sniffle resting your head atop mine, seeking comfort.

I liked it when you were sad, I know this makes me seem cruel and heartless but when you were sad I wasn’t hurt. You would seek comfort from me instead of wanting to show me more of your love.

You did tell me eventually, with our method of communication. We had a bond, a strong bond, a string tied to each of us. I knew what you were thinking, when you were lying. Only I ever knew you, your motives, your twisted sense of logic.

Friends were tools because then they can’t hurt you when they die or rescind their friendship and leave you. It hurts so much you told me in our secret communication. Love is painful, if you never love any of your friends if you don’t allow yourself to get close then it won’t hurt when they leave. It won’t hurt when they die.

You do remember Azzy, you do remember you murmur.

You fade away again, vanishing without a trace. I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling, trying to get my fear under control.

I should try to get some sleep, I need to get ready for tomorrow after all. I shut my eyes, feeling the gentle lull of sleep calling to me.

I glance around, gulping nervously at the familiar house. A child was tied on the bed screaming as you played another one of your games with him.

You made me watch as you performed your art on him, slicing off each of his ten fingers, counting them slowly. Your voice mocking but playful. The Game Room you called it, many games, many children, one woman.

One victim every year to not arouse the attention of the authorities.

You silence the child forever, turning towards me. You smile coldly leaning in and whispering. What did you see Azzy? What did you see?

“Honey get up, it’s your big day today!”

I bolt out of bed, pressing a hand against my chest, breathing heavily. “Get out of my mind,” I groan, my hand twitching slightly.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” I shout, climbing out of bed.

I crawl to the mirror, frowning at my reflection. The dark circles under my eyes looks ugly. My pores seem a bit big, and my hairline was so weird. My eyebrows were disgustingly thick.

I stood there, preening myself carefully, hiding all my imperfections under dashes of makeup, plucking my eyebrows, and trying to smooth out my hair.

Beauty blinds you used to say. No one ever suspected you, you were a mother. What kind of mother would perform such atrocious acts to children? I was part of your disguise, I blended you in with everyone else, psychopaths had to look normal after all.

I use beauty to hide what really lurks inside of me, a malevolent storm that churns every day, my light blending in with your shadow. My sinister urges to stab those liars again and again, watching their pitiful body collapse, their faces turning paler and paler as they collapse in a puddle of her own blood. It was invigorating, sensual.

It’s wrong. I breathe in, folding up my darkness in many layers, trapping it in the darkest regions of my heart. I breathe out as the darkness recedes in the darkest corners of my brain.

I hope I don’t fail the competition, I really hope I’m not pathetic, not weak like you always told me.

I don my usual apparel, a tank top and a short skirt. I strut out of my house, ignoring my foster parents, heading to school. My palms were sweaty, and I was feeling slightly nauseous even though I skipped breakfast.

I enter the school, which was quiet, eerily quiet. There was a type of tranquility and serenity in the school hallways, which only made me more nervous. It was like if the school was lying to me, the calm before the storm, a trap that I willingly walked into.

It was time. Victory at any cost. I enter the locker room, changing into my leotard. I smooth down the wrinkles, feeling your shadow creeping in again, deadly and silent.

I glance at the lockers, knowing that I had to achieve victory at any cost, failure is unacceptable.

You know what to do don’t you Azzy?

I nod, taking out the bottle of pills I brought with me. There were a few worthy competitors I had to flush out first.

I glance at the bottle, knowing that there were people that would say that this was sabotage, that it was cheating and dishonest. Cheaters never prosper. They’re all wrong.

You always make the best of every situation, you do whatever you can to seize victory, victory is power, and power gives you protection. I’m not cheating, I’m simply making the best of a worrisome situation.

It’s underhanded, it’s what you would do. I’m afraid of you, of what you could potentially do to me even though you were in prison. I question myself constantly. What if I became like you? I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m ashamed of you.

I fantasize about grabbing your pocketknife and slicing every other contestant’s throat open. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? That would be art, your type of art, a twisted version that was beautiful but cruel. There’s a type of beauty in cruelty, a forbidden pleasure that society abhors.

I take out a few pills, a collection of red, blue, and pink. I crush them up, grinding them with the flat side of your knife. There were a few people that were good. I need to ensure that they lose no matter what. Good thing that they think that we’re friends. Pathetic weaklings.

It’s not the first time I used these pills. I must be careful though, I don’t want to get caught and disqualified. I hope I can win the competition. It’s time to poison a few students that have talent.

I walk over surreptitiously, standing in front of the locker of gymnastics star Sakura Haruno. She was a feisty one and had natural talent. It’s better that I dispose of her quickly.

I thumb her combination lock, entering the combination I saw her enter many times before. There would be no reason why she would suspect me, we were friends.

I open Sakura’s locker, taking out her water bottle which was filled to the brim. I unscrew the cap, sliding in a few crushed pills, counting the small shards as they slid in. I mix the shards with the water bottle. I must make sure that I didn’t accidentally give Sakura an overdose.

As a surgeon you knew quite a bit about drugs. You lectured me on the usage of them, you were grooming me for my future, to become exactly like you. Family first Azzy you always said, smiling. You found them quite helpful as you dragged drugged children into your Game Room to begin your fun. Subjugation and control, two vital aspects that I would need to know. Overdosing was dangerous, it was unsafe, and you always liked the children to be safe and fed before you began to work on your art. You liked them fully alert as you tear off their skin, rip their fingers off from their hands. The familiar stain of red that always appeared on the children's' chest afterwards.

I screw the cap back on the water bottle, shoving it in the locker. I place the lock back in place, clicking it shut as I turn my attention to the next contestant.

My palms are sweaty as walk to Tenten’s locker. I wasn’t good enough, I can’t do this competition. I gulp nervously as you appear again, glaring at me, a vengeful spirit.

You’re entirely worthless you sneer.

I wince at the harshness of your voice, trembling slightly. I can’t be weak, I have to be strong. I must be strong.

Somehow you always knew how to prey on my insecurities, opening old wounds again.

I stand in front of Tenten’s locker. I unlock it, sliding three small shards in. I mix the shards with the water. She would require a slightly smaller dosage then what I gave Sakura.

I shut Tenten’s locker closed, closing my eyes. I have to win.

You appear again, frowning. Azzy, you warn.

I gulp, nodding furiously. I don’t want you mad at me. I breathe in, and in the next moment my nervousness was gone, replaced by a cruel smile. It was astonishing how fast I could switch personalities, adopting your mindset with ease. It was necessary, I need your cruelty to win.

This was going to be so much fun.

I leave the locker room, entering the gymnasium. I was the last one to enter, and the spokesman starts to speak.

“Welcome to the fourth annual gymnastics competition,” the spokesman starts to speak before he seems to shift.

I narrow my eyes as his skin turns paler and paler, he turns more translucent, his eyes shifting from the warm brown to familiar cold blue eyes.

“It’s time to kill them all Azzy,” you smile, taking the place of the spokesman effortlessly. “You remember what we talked about don’t you?”

I nod, hating you and loving you at the same time. I love your thousand façades, the way you manipulate so cleanly. I pause, slightly puzzled, don’t I hate you?

There’s a secret to manipulation you used to say. People see only what they want to see. Show them exactly what they want to see and let their imagination do the rest. Show them a little bit of kindness, or perhaps a little bit of warmth and they’ll think that you’re a good person. Even if you act cruelly later they will never suspect you. People are so easy to fool, society as a whole is pathetic.

“Azure did you see that?” Breeze shakes my shoulder.

I blink my eyes and you vanish, the spokesman reappears. The teams were labelled on the scoreboard and Sakura’s team was already ahead of us. She lands on the mat effortlessly smiling brightly.

I smile reassuringly at Breeze. “Don’t worry, there’s no way that they can win.”

Especially when the break starts for the finals, there’s no way that they can win. I was lucky I suppose, for the break. There never used to be one, it was a newly instated rule. During the third annual gymnastics competition someone fainted from dehydration, it was unfortunate for them but fortunate for me.

My eyes flicker to Breeze Dancer, frowning. She was the only inept gymnast on my team, talented only in volleyball. It was rather unfortunate that she was assigned to us at the last second.

She’s your friend, I shake my head, trying to dispel my thoughts about Breeze. It shouldn’t matter if she was good did it?

“An excellent flip by Tenten!”

I glance at the scoreboard watching as the score for Tenten’s team increases again, a whole ten points for her flips and tricks.

“Next we have Azure Fang.”

I plaster a smile on my face, my eyebrows creasing in concentration. I position myself on the mat, sliding my left leg behind my right one.

My palms are sweaty, and I feel nausea churn in my stomach. What if I fail? What if I screw up again?

You appear, tutting at me. Azzy, you smile coldly. Crush them all.

For some strange reason your presence was comforting this time. You were familiar, and familiarity was something I could handle, it was calming to me. I nod, breathing in the cold air again.

I run forward, feeling the same addictive euphoria you felt when you were killing. There was a type of liberation, a type of freedom I felt as my blood starts to circulate and my heart beat increases. This was the reason I chose gymnastics, to experience this type of freedom. The freedom that I would never ever truly experience. It was a fantasy, but for now I’m grateful. I breathe in deeply, inhaling the sweet cold air. I leap forwards, landing effortlessly on my hands. I flip myself on the mattress and flip backwards, resting one hand on the obstacle and propelling myself off, landing on the other end seamlessly.

I glance at the scoreboard, uneasy. I gain ten points. I smile, feeling reassured.

Lub dub, lub dub. My ears twitch as I glance around warily. I walk away, sitting down on the bench. Lub dub, lub dub. I clutch my head as that same incessant noise fills my head again. Where is it coming from?

You lean on the wall smiling at me. Where do you think Azzy? You should recognize it, don’t you remember my favourite sound?

I remember. I remember how you would beckon me over, pressing my head firmly against the child’s chest.

Do you hear it Azzy? The beautiful sound of a heart beating? It’s ventricles contracting. The tricuspid and bicuspid forming what we hear as the lub sound, while the closure of the semilunar valves causes the dub sound. Isn’t it so beautiful?

You smile wickedly at me as you insert a knife slowly into the child’s throat. The heart beating it’s last beat, it was addictive to you. It was like euphoria to you. You long to hear the final beat of a heart, that gigantic pause after the heart finishes beating.

It was delicious, it made you shudder with excitement. Your eyes wild and dark as you look at me, a permanent fixture of your insanity. Wasn’t it wonderful?

I run a hand through my blue locks, struggling to control my urges. I close my eyes, struggling to calm myself down. I wanted to grab your knife and stab everyone here, a single stab to the heart. It’s final beat. That luxurious pause after the kill.

I understand you now Mommy. It would be so much fun. The euphoria coursing through my veins after a kill, addictive and sweet. I recoil in horror, yet the pleasure still courses throughout me. I can’t stop it, I can’t stop this fantasy.

It was sick, yet there’s something pleasuring about doing something forbidden, something I shouldn’t do.

Not yet, it’s much too early, I chant to myself, my body trembling as I inhale and exhale. I start to relax, the heady pleasure I felt starts to dissolve.

Lingering Phantom Part 4

My eyes flicker open and I glance at the scoreboard, amazed that my team was now up to fifty points. We were still trailing behind Sakura and Tenten’s team unfortunately.

I watch as Breeze prepares herself, her body tenses like a coil, it was much too tightly wound. She would lose some of her flexibility like this.

“Relax,” I shout from the benches, my lips curling into a small smile.

Breeze glances at me, gulping before returning to what she thinks is a daunting task. She starts to run, her feet bouncing on the mattress with every step, approaching the vaulting obstacle.

Breeze tries to flip but stumbles and collides with the obstacle, crashing headfirst into it.

I sigh, shaking my head. She isn’t very good, is she?

Breeze glances at me, her face flushed.

I shoot her a reassuring smile.

I’m sorry Breeze mouths, shaking her head at her own ineptness.

“It’s halftime and only teams one to three will proceed to the finals,” the spokesman says.

I smile as I walk to the locker room, watching Sakura and Tenten surreptitiously. I open my own locker, taking a swig from my water bottle.

My eyes stay fixated on Sakura as she takes huge gulps of water, her face pales slightly as she drinks a bit more.

Sakura glances at the bottle of water, before shrugging and placing it back in her locker.

I glance at Tenten, watching as she drinks heavily from her bottle, wiping at the sweat on her forehead. Tenten sighs in relief as she places her bottle back in her locker.

I smile, as Sakura and Tenten leave the locker room. Perfect, it’ll be an easy victory now.

“I’m sorry,” Breeze whispers, tapping me on the shoulder.

I glance at Breeze, nodding. “It’s all right,” I smile. “No one is good at everything.”

“I can’t help but feel that I let you down.”

You did. I push the thought away as soon as it came. “You didn’t,” I say, trying to make it the truth. I clap Breeze on the shoulder.

I leave the locker room, taking my position as leader of my team.

“Let the finals of the competition commence!”

I watch stoically, as Sakura walks sluggishly to the mat. She squints at the uneven bars in front of her. She moves forward with lethargic efficiency, she starts to sweat as she jumps up, her fingers clasping the uneven bars.

She sways forward gently, struggling to lift herself before she releases the bars and plummets to the mattress below.

My lips curls into a small smile. One somewhat worthy competitor down, one to go.

I focus on Tenten who walks up to the mat with the same lethargic efficiency. She leaps up to the bar, managing to do one full flip before plummeting to the mat below.

I scrunch up my eyebrows in concern. “Are you all right?”

Tenten nods. “Fine,” she murmurs, her voice sounding weak, terribly weak.

I nod, resisting the urge to smile at her unfortunate routine. I walk up to the mat, glancing at the mat. It’s easy, I reassure myself, glancing at the bar in apprehension. I won’t fail, I can’t fail.

Your voice appears, reassuring me. Very good Azzy, failure must not be allowed. I leap upwards, trusting in your guidance.

My fingers clasp around the bar and I make one swing, grabbing the bar with my legs as I push upwards with my hands. I flip all the way around, releasing my arms allowing my legs to sustain my weight. I flip upwards one more time, releasing the bars with my legs as I stay suspended in midair for a brief second before grabbing onto the same bar with my hands, facing backwards.

I flip backwards, grabbing on the bar with my legs. I flip all the way around two times. I use the momentum to propel myself off the bar, flipping one more time in the air before landing on the mattress.

I hold my arms up as I smile, seeing my score go up by ten more points. I bow once, before rushing over to the bench, joining Sakura and Tenten who were both dazed.

I watch as competitor after competitor goes, most of them from Sakura and Tenten’s team getting eights or sevens to make up for their leaders’ blunder.

I plaster a warm smile, seething inwardly at my team’s poor performance. “You guys can do it,” I cheer, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hand, leaving tiny indentations.

My fake smile turns to a genuine one as they start to improve. From sevens and sixes to eight and sevens.

I glance at the scoreboard, frowning. We’re in third place still, and it’s all up to Breeze. I pray that Breeze could pull it off, that she could actually do it. Make me proud please.

I try to smile as Breeze looks at me, looking incredibly nervous.

I pull at the scab on my lip, allowing a small trickle of blood to seep into my mouth. I gnaw on my lips nervously as the metallic tang on blood, of iron fills my mouth. The taste of blood was relaxing.

She better not fail.

Breeze rushes up and tries to cling to the bar. She slips and plummets to the mattress below.

I freeze, trembling with rage. Hatred wells up inside of me and my darkness starts to leak out, filling my head with vengeful thoughts, whispers of you.

“The competition is now officially over. Team Haruno is the winner!” The spokesman smiles.

I force myself to calm down, battering your thoughts aside. Breeze is my friend, it’s okay. It has to be okay. I can’t believe that she failed, no she’s my friend.

You know what we do with failures Azzy you smile at me, approaching me.

I envision briefly about stabbing Breeze, your knife plunging down in three vicious strikes, beautiful red blossoming across the front of her uniform, staining it permanently.

It’s wrong, I shudder, forcing the fantasy out of my head. I start to curl up, rocking side to side, trying to ignore your beautiful yet deadly voice.

You rest your hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. Azzy, why is it wrong?

I glance at you, and your blue eyes stare back at me in warmth. Your translucent blue skin feels soft and warm, it’s another one of your facades.

“It’s wrong, of course it is,” I murmur. “It’s wrong because killing someone is bad, it’s evil. It’s murder.”

You press a finger across my lips, frowning. Is it wrong Azzy? What’s so bad about killing?

“You strip them from the life they deserve, it’s unfair.”

Life isn’t fair, you whisper wrapping your arms around me gently. It’s not fair that everyone I loved left me, that no one was ever there for me. But you’re there aren’t you Azzy? You’ll always be there for me.

I force myself to nod, trying my hardest not to be afraid of you. “I will,” I force myself to say, knowing that you always liked my voice, you thought it was beautiful.

Killing is not wrong, it’s justifiable. I call it justifiable homicide, it’s self defense actually, you smile wickedly leaning in and whispering everything you ever wanted to say.

Somehow your words twist your way into my mind until they make sense. You were always afraid of getting hurt, everyone has the potential to harm you after all. You strike first, always. You were defending yourself from the possibility that they can hurt you.

You told me once in our secret communication but somehow it seems different now, more real. “I think I’m ashamed of you.”

Why should you be ashamed of me? Is it because of the regulations society put in place? That killing was bad? What gives them the right to decide right from wrong? Why should they be allowed to control us? Do exactly what you want Azzy, ignore what everyone else said. Is it wrong to want to know your mother? Do exactly what you think is right,

I gulp nervously, inhaling your beautiful scent, the scent of sweet sickly blood, the permanent stain on your hands.

You were like a drug and I was the addict. I couldn’t get enough of you. Your kindness, your coldness. Your love, your hatred. They were all you, different aspects of you, different aspects of your personality clashing.

Kill Breeze you hiss, your eyes turning red, a demon, a wicked ghost.

“I can’t kill her I won’t,” I murmur. I remember how Breeze was always there for me, her arms warm, wrapping around my waist. She was there when no one else was, she never abandoned me when all my other friends left.

Do you think that she would actually accept you for who you are? You smile.

“She will, she has to.”

What about your other friends? Crimson, Scarlet and Midnight? Did they accept you when they found out? When they saw the way your mind works? They called you a monster, they rejected that part of you. Your darkness, our darkness coursing through your veins. They rejected you for who you were. Do you think Breeze would ever accept that? Your darkness?

I think back to my depraved fantasies, of slitting their throats, slitting Breeze’s throat. I imagine the disgusted look on Breeze’s face as I confess my fantasies. I imagine Breeze glaring at me, insulting me. “We’re no longer friends. Midnight was right, you are twisted, you are a monster,” Breeze sneers.

I want to tell myself that Breeze would accept me for who I was, for just being myself. But no one wants you to be yourself. Everyone wants you to be the version of you that they like. I want to tell myself that Breeze would accept me, but deep down I know, I think I know what she would say.

“She would never accept me if I was truly myself,” I whisper, my lips quivering. “What is wrong with me? Why do I always have these twisted fantasies? It’s just so wrong, it’s so wrong.”

It’s who you are Azzy, you shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are. Why shouldn’t you be proud of who you are? Why should you be so ashamed? Is it because of the constraints society has placed?

You lean in, wrapping your arms tightly around me. No matter what happens, no matter what you choose I’ll accept you, always and always.

A strange feeling settles in my chest, weighing me down heavily. I was happy, strangely. I’ve never felt this type of joy before. I felt accepted, I knew I would always be accepted by you no matter what anyone else ever thought. In a world of lies you would always reveal the truth. You would be my darkness in a world of light. I was an extension of you, part of you. Like mother like daughter.

I gaze deep into your warm blue eyes. Your eyes never waver, and I knew that no matter my choices you would be my only constant. It doesn’t matter if you used to beat me if you used to whip me. You love me, and I finally believe it now.

I lean into your hug, realizing only now how much I miss you. I once turned you in, wanted you away from me, I feared you. I still fear you, but it was a different kind of fear. I fear what you would do without me, and I can sense your fear too.

You didn’t want me to leave you, I would be your constant, your tie to this world, the only reason you live.

I feel my connection to you strengthen, the string that ties us together tightens. I breathe in, sensing a renewed sense of purpose.

What is the point of being good? Why shouldn’t I kill? Why shouldn’t it bring me pleasure? Why can’t I love it?

Very good Azzy you murmur, your voice burns deep within me, calling my darkness to the forefront of my mind, calling my darkness out of my heart. You are my daughter, accept it, remember it always. Accept your fate.

Your blood runs in my veins. I’m your daughter. I feel the darkness of you snaking around me like armor, wrapping tightly around my heart as I accept that simple fact. It was delicious, it was powerful. I didn’t need anyone else but you. The darkness spreads to every crevice of my body, tainting my insides like ink. No one else would enter my heart. Why should I be the one who gets hurt? Why should I be the one to suffer? Why should I be the one whose friends betray her?

Lingering Phantom Part 5

I could feel the light inside me waning, a candle flickering. There’s just one more person I need to take care of first to fully embrace your teachings.

Breeze’s face flashes in my head. Failure is unacceptable, victory must be attained at any cost. I steel myself for what I was about to do, your voice filling my head. I swallow, clenching and unclenching my hands. I have to do this, I have to do it to please you. My old urge returns, hammering itself into my mind. A desire to please you, to make you proud of me. I strike first now, always.

That’s right Azzy you coo.

I stand up, walking to the locker room. I plaster a smile on my face as I see Breeze. I tap her on the shoulder.

“Do you have a moment, I need to talk to you.”

Breeze glances at me, fidgeting. “Sure,” she mumbles. “Listen I’m really sorry about the competition. I won’t do that again.”

My smile turns more frigid. “No, you won’t,” I agree, glancing around the locker room. It was just us now.

I walk to my locker, changing out of my gym uniform. “Let’s find somewhere to talk,” I smile, trying to reassure Breeze.

I grab Breeze’s hand, walking out of the locker room. I walk up the nearest flight of stairs, my steps rhythmic, pounding on the cold marble. I walk monotonously, with a sense of finality up the next few flights, pausing outside a door.

I remember something you once said when I called you insane. Do you know the definition of insanity? I told you that you were mad, that something was seriously wrong with you. You look at me disappointed. How do you decide who is insane? Is it the so called sane people?

You leaned in and whispered to me. Insanity doesn’t exist, it’s a figment of your imagination. You don’t know if someone is insane. I could be the sane one and everyone else could be insane. Tear apart the constraints of society Azzy, and you will become so much more than one of their puppets.

I push open the door, leading us to the roof.

“Why are we here?” Breeze whispers timidly, almost afraid of me.

I glance at Breeze, finding myself softening slightly. Focus, I glance at the broken railing, already filling in the details of Breeze’s rather unfortunate accident.

She’s your friend, a voice whispers, the remaining light inside of me struggling to break your hold on me, to push through the layers of darkness and try to make me change my mind.

Your darkness pushes back, encapsulating the light. Do it Azzy, you murmur, your phantom showing up briefly, smiling warmly at me.

“I have to talk to you,” I drag Breeze closer to the center, taking a step backwards so that I was behind her.

I grasp the handle of your knife, taking it out slowly.

Breeze observes the roof, before turning around to face me. “I don’t see,” she falters as she sees the knife in my hand. “Why do you have a knife?”

I glance at your knife, caressing the metal slowly. “This?” I smile coldly. “Why do you think?” I take a step forward, knowing not to rush forward. That would be much too quick. I want to enjoy this. I want to invoke fear. Still a part of me reaches out to Breeze, wanting to wrap my arms around her and never let go. I want to apologize, say a thousand things I never could say. I love you so much. I push that part of me aside, envisioning Breeze as a blank slate, someone unimportant. She wasn’t a person, she was no one, she was a target.

Breeze takes a step backwards, raising her hands up in a gesture meant to placate me. “Azure?” She takes another step backwards.

“Yes?” I purr, taking another step forward. It was intoxicating the amount of control I had in this moment. I decide if Breeze lives or dies. I had power, I was in control this time. It took a huge amount of control to not rush over and comfort her.

“What are you doing?” Breeze shouts panicked.

I simply offer her a cold smile. “I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago.”

What are you doing? The voice shouts again, and strangely it sounds like my own. You can’t do this, she’s your friend.

You appear again, smiling encouragingly. That’s it Azzy, you murmur squashing the other voice with such ease.

I nod, listening to your voice. You would be my constant companion now. When everyone else leaves I knew I will always have you.

“Don’t take this too personal,” I shrug. “It’s just business,” my voice sounds clipped, anger and hatred evident but below that a layer of grief.

I slash at the air in front of Breeze Dancer causing her to tumble off the roof.

Somehow, miraculously she manages to hold on to the edge of the roof.

It doesn’t make a difference, she doesn’t have the strength to pull herself up.

“I thought we were friends,” Breeze whispers, her voice sounds painstakingly frail.

I force myself to look stoic, but some part of me wants to reassure her, to gather her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, to never let her go again. My best and only friend.

“We are,” I say, remaining stoic.

“Azure, please,” Breeze begs, she sounds confused, sadness evident. Strangely there was no anger, it was as if she still loves me.

No, you whisper, your voice harsh and cold. Only I can love you Azzy, don’t you remember?

“Azure,” Breeze whispers.

I try to not listen to her pleas of help, but still her voice starts to crack a little bit of my darkness surrounding my heart.

She’s your friend, the voice murmurs. You can’t let her fall, you can’t. Don’t you love her too?

I glance at Breeze as something warm trickles down my cheek. Do I?

Don’t listen to her Azzy you murmur, but your voice sounds so distant now. As if you were truly a phantom that had no control over me.

For a brief second, my light starts to eradicate your darkness. You push back, struggling to control me, to use me. A push and pull, Newton’s third law.

“Azure help!”

I lunge towards Breeze as her hand starts to slip. I grab Breeze’s hand, struggling.

“I got you,” I whisper.

“Don’t let me go,” Breeze sobs, looking down at the ground far below her.

Pull her up, the voice murmurs.

You appear now, looking livid, your gaze bores into mine. Your eyes cold and sharp. You were furious. No, your voice is calm, deadly calm. Azzy remember everything we have; do you really want to lose it all because of your insolent friend?

“She’s my friend though,” I murmur. “I can’t just kill her.”

You lean in, wrapping your arms around me. I’m trying to protect you, you murmur. She will only hurt you Azzy, aren’t you done with suffering? With being hurt?

I am, I don’t want to be hurt anymore.

If you love someone let her go you murmur.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “I love her too much.”

“Pull me up Azure, please,” Breeze murmurs.

That’s why you should let her go you whisper.

I gaze at Breeze, slipping into your mindset. A great well of hatred rises inside of me. We lost the competition because of her, she’s a fool.

Let her go, you smile at me.

I struggle, your darkness overpowering what little light I have left. The last lingering remnants of my light were vanishing, struggling to push through your darkness. Cold and suffocating, yet it guarantees protection, a type of protection I wish I had before.

I lean in, listening to her heart beat. The gentle lub dub sound, ventricles contracting.

I shake my head sadly at Breeze. “Midnight was right, he was so right.”

“No, he’s not, you’re better than this,” Breeze looks at me so earnestly that I shut my eyes, unable to bear the guilt welling up inside of me.

“No, I’m not.”

As I hold onto Breeze’s hand one last time I feel the pulse of our bond, our history, our love gushing out of this simple gesture like a torrent of water. It felt right, it felt of something meant to be. I love you so much Breeze, and therefore I must do this.

If you love someone let her go.

And I do. I’m so sorry. I release Breeze, watching as she plummets downward. She was utterly silent, gazing back at me with those warm blue eyes.

I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to see the moment of impact, her skull shattering, her heart beating one last time. That pause afterwards sounds loud and deafening, it holds a type of finality. I open them looking down at Breeze. Her hair stained a new color, her arms twisted at odd angles. She looks angelic, almost as if she was at peace.

I rest on the roof, as tears gush out of my eyes, a never-ending torrent of my grief, my misery, of everything I’ve ever suffered from. The dam has finally broke. I envision Breeze’s soft smile, the secrets we shared. Her warmth, her comfort, her arms wrapping around me gently, snuggling with me. The way her eyes would linger on me, softening. I remember the lingering glances we shared. Our bond is broken forever, the string snapped suddenly leaving me all alone, dangling on the side consumed with darkness. Breeze was my light. I start to cry, knowing that I would never ever see Breeze again. I would never feel her arms again, feel the warmth from her, the way her eyes would steady me. I will always love you Breeze, I won’t ever forget you.

You wrap your arms around me, allowing me to snuggle with you. It’s okay you whisper. You did the right thing Azzy.

I sob furiously, feeling the last remnants of my light fading away, sparkling like a dying star. Your darkness, cold and hungry, seeps in, filling every crack, every portion of my heart. It wraps around me like armor, a black armor.

I’ll protect you, you smile lovingly at me.

I nod, knowing that I will love no one else, my heart is sealed off forever. I will only have you. For the rest of my life you’ll be my only companion.

You murmur your condolences, soothing me, comforting me. You don’t need her, you’re better off without Breeze. She was just getting in your way.

I nod, finding solace in your words, a strange comfort in them. I scoot backwards until my back hits the wall. I wipe the tears from my cheeks, staring upwards. Family first, always.

I don’t need Breeze, I’m so much better then her. I don’t need her, I don’t need her.

I sit there and wait. I wait for the feeling of triumph, that feeling of victory to grasp me tightly. I wait, and wait, and wait.

But it doesn’t come.