Broken Porcelain
folder
Gravitation › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,235
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gravitation › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,235
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gravitation, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Otedama
---
Broken Porcelain
---
The days came and went as though they were just seconds in time and the maids often saw the boy sitting in the middle of the room with a doll held closely to his chest. Having always known the child as reserved and quiet they didn't bother to speak or interact with him; only to come and leave a tray of food and to once again come back to pick it up. During this time his parents never once came to see him.
Like flashes in his mind the days quickly changed to weeks and with it, he began to feel more and more alone; and the sadness of his solitary confinement ate at him, slowly consumed his thoughts with each passing day.
He knew without the dolls that he kept littered throughout the room, he would certainly go insane. They stared lifelessly at him from all corners of the bare maple floors, their gazes glazed over and frozen. But when he imagined and pretended hard enough they would come to life and be his friends; they talked and played with him like no one else ever had.
He lifted a porcelain doll high up into the air, her glass eyes shining in the dim light of the room as he swung her around and around; no sound came from either of them except for the small thumps of his feet as he glided across his bedroom. The ethereal dolls' black hair flew everywhere as the wind played and tangled into it, its cold lips seemingly to kiss each and every silky strand. Finally the child stopped, still holding the doll high into the air and stared at it with an unblinking gaze.
"Maria?" he questioned, "You’ll never leave, will you?" He looked innocently at her, and waited for the stoic doll to reply but got no answer. Getting no response he considered that his question was too vague and so he reworded it.
"Will you leave me like mother and father had… like Mia-... No, like e-everyone had?" Still no sound was uttered from Maria’s glassy lips. He sighed before he sat on the floor and placed the toy gently in his lap.
"It's okay," he said after awhile, "I can wait."
Another day had passed and to his disappointment no one came; no one except for the maid who was always there to drop off his food and the one who came to pick up the empty tray but she never spoke to him.
He looked to his favorite doll, Alexandria, and for once he smiled. Running his hands through her fiery red hair, he gazed into her glassy green eyes he meekly uttered a small question, "Um, will you play with me today, Dria?" He closed his eyes and imagined she said yes and when he opened them back up he gave a sad sort of lop sided smile and nodded, knowing deep down that this fantasy he had created is not, and never could be, real.
"What would you like to play today?" He pretended to think for a moment, already knowing what game he had decided on but he wanted to prolong the end as much as he could. "How about; Otedama?"1
This was his favorite game. He grabbed three bean bags and sat crossed legged on the floor, putting the two smaller bags down. He threw the kini (larger bean bag) high up into the air and quickly reached down, grabbing a smaller bean bag, before catching the kini on in the same hand he threw it in. Then he threw the kini up into the air again, dropping the first bean bag and grabbing the second, catching the kini once more. Then he threw the kini back up and dropped the other bean bag and caught the kini once more.
Looking over at Dria he imagined her clapping and giving him praise for a job well done. Smiling he stood up and took a bow before sitting down, this time with his legs tucked under him and looked down to where the other two bags lay and frowned slightly. They had landed farther away from him than he had expected but he knew he could win the next round none the less. Throwing the kini up into the air he leaned over quickly and picked both of them up before catching the kini once again. Smiling in victory he threw the kini up and dropped both bean bags to the ground and caught the larger bag once more.
He licked his lips in concentration and extended his left hand out in front of him the palm facing to the side. Throwing the kini up into the air he reached down and grabbed the first bag and tapped it to his palm before letting it drop and caught the small bag. Grinning happily he repeated this process except this time with the other bag. Feeling particularly triumphant he jumped up and clapped his hands together but stopped suddenly as the door sung open to reveal one of the maids.
He looked up at her with slight curiosity and she looked at him as though he was someone who's father didn't sign her paychecks and faked a smile as she kneeled down beside him.
"Your parents have sent me to tell you to get ready. They'll be having a party tonight and you have to attend. I'll put some clothes out on the bed for you, OK? So you go take a bath.
But don't take too long." Her voice sounded strained, and high pitched, as though she had been talking like this all day. Or perhaps it pained her to talk to him but either way he mind, he just liked having someone talk to him.
As she left he got up from the floor and went to one of the many doors in his room; this one being the bathroom. He started the shower instead of the bath that the maid had oh so kindly suggested. He then stripped from his clothes and stepped into the warm heat. Soon after he washed up before he hurriedly got out, not wanting to be late and have his parents get mad at him.
When he walked out he saw that his bed had a set of clothes on it, left by the maid. He dried himself off and pulled the clothes on before he sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. The bruise that his father had given him still lingered on his skin. It had faded by now but if you looked hard enough you could see it was still there.
He touched it lightly, flinching as he did. Though it was almost gone it was still slightly tender and it hurt. After a few more moments of staring at the almost non-existent mark he looked down at his clothes and frowned.
He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a vanilla white undershirt with black shiny shoes. He shifted in the pants, and thought them uncomfortable since he usually wore shorts. But nevertheless this is what had been picked and not being one to upset anyone, this is what he would wear.
Moments after he looked in the mirror and deemed himself presentable a maid walked in, and with a shrill voice, something he thought all those maids possessed, told him to follow. He did as she said and walked closely behind her, head down and hands at his sides. As they walked closer to their desired destination sounds and voices filled his ears, but they weren't yells or screams but strangely that of laughter and music.
He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face; he knew full well what this meant. He was going to be able to interact with other people, though they were most likely older than him by a great number of years though at this moment he could care less.Walking into the room his face immediately fell, and with his faded smile, his hopes disappeared too.
---
Broken Porcelain
---
1 http:// en.wikipedia. org/wiki/ Otedama (Remove spaces) If you want to know more about it and how it's actually played. It does get quick hard as the game progresses. I tried it and it was difficult after the fourth round. Maybe I'm just uncoordinated.
I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter. Sorry for it short length but I thought, just as I had before, that this would be a wonderful place to end it. Thank you for reading.
Broken Porcelain
---
The days came and went as though they were just seconds in time and the maids often saw the boy sitting in the middle of the room with a doll held closely to his chest. Having always known the child as reserved and quiet they didn't bother to speak or interact with him; only to come and leave a tray of food and to once again come back to pick it up. During this time his parents never once came to see him.
Like flashes in his mind the days quickly changed to weeks and with it, he began to feel more and more alone; and the sadness of his solitary confinement ate at him, slowly consumed his thoughts with each passing day.
He knew without the dolls that he kept littered throughout the room, he would certainly go insane. They stared lifelessly at him from all corners of the bare maple floors, their gazes glazed over and frozen. But when he imagined and pretended hard enough they would come to life and be his friends; they talked and played with him like no one else ever had.
He lifted a porcelain doll high up into the air, her glass eyes shining in the dim light of the room as he swung her around and around; no sound came from either of them except for the small thumps of his feet as he glided across his bedroom. The ethereal dolls' black hair flew everywhere as the wind played and tangled into it, its cold lips seemingly to kiss each and every silky strand. Finally the child stopped, still holding the doll high into the air and stared at it with an unblinking gaze.
"Maria?" he questioned, "You’ll never leave, will you?" He looked innocently at her, and waited for the stoic doll to reply but got no answer. Getting no response he considered that his question was too vague and so he reworded it.
"Will you leave me like mother and father had… like Mia-... No, like e-everyone had?" Still no sound was uttered from Maria’s glassy lips. He sighed before he sat on the floor and placed the toy gently in his lap.
"It's okay," he said after awhile, "I can wait."
Another day had passed and to his disappointment no one came; no one except for the maid who was always there to drop off his food and the one who came to pick up the empty tray but she never spoke to him.
He looked to his favorite doll, Alexandria, and for once he smiled. Running his hands through her fiery red hair, he gazed into her glassy green eyes he meekly uttered a small question, "Um, will you play with me today, Dria?" He closed his eyes and imagined she said yes and when he opened them back up he gave a sad sort of lop sided smile and nodded, knowing deep down that this fantasy he had created is not, and never could be, real.
"What would you like to play today?" He pretended to think for a moment, already knowing what game he had decided on but he wanted to prolong the end as much as he could. "How about; Otedama?"1
This was his favorite game. He grabbed three bean bags and sat crossed legged on the floor, putting the two smaller bags down. He threw the kini (larger bean bag) high up into the air and quickly reached down, grabbing a smaller bean bag, before catching the kini on in the same hand he threw it in. Then he threw the kini up into the air again, dropping the first bean bag and grabbing the second, catching the kini once more. Then he threw the kini back up and dropped the other bean bag and caught the kini once more.
Looking over at Dria he imagined her clapping and giving him praise for a job well done. Smiling he stood up and took a bow before sitting down, this time with his legs tucked under him and looked down to where the other two bags lay and frowned slightly. They had landed farther away from him than he had expected but he knew he could win the next round none the less. Throwing the kini up into the air he leaned over quickly and picked both of them up before catching the kini once again. Smiling in victory he threw the kini up and dropped both bean bags to the ground and caught the larger bag once more.
He licked his lips in concentration and extended his left hand out in front of him the palm facing to the side. Throwing the kini up into the air he reached down and grabbed the first bag and tapped it to his palm before letting it drop and caught the small bag. Grinning happily he repeated this process except this time with the other bag. Feeling particularly triumphant he jumped up and clapped his hands together but stopped suddenly as the door sung open to reveal one of the maids.
He looked up at her with slight curiosity and she looked at him as though he was someone who's father didn't sign her paychecks and faked a smile as she kneeled down beside him.
"Your parents have sent me to tell you to get ready. They'll be having a party tonight and you have to attend. I'll put some clothes out on the bed for you, OK? So you go take a bath.
But don't take too long." Her voice sounded strained, and high pitched, as though she had been talking like this all day. Or perhaps it pained her to talk to him but either way he mind, he just liked having someone talk to him.
As she left he got up from the floor and went to one of the many doors in his room; this one being the bathroom. He started the shower instead of the bath that the maid had oh so kindly suggested. He then stripped from his clothes and stepped into the warm heat. Soon after he washed up before he hurriedly got out, not wanting to be late and have his parents get mad at him.
When he walked out he saw that his bed had a set of clothes on it, left by the maid. He dried himself off and pulled the clothes on before he sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. The bruise that his father had given him still lingered on his skin. It had faded by now but if you looked hard enough you could see it was still there.
He touched it lightly, flinching as he did. Though it was almost gone it was still slightly tender and it hurt. After a few more moments of staring at the almost non-existent mark he looked down at his clothes and frowned.
He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a vanilla white undershirt with black shiny shoes. He shifted in the pants, and thought them uncomfortable since he usually wore shorts. But nevertheless this is what had been picked and not being one to upset anyone, this is what he would wear.
Moments after he looked in the mirror and deemed himself presentable a maid walked in, and with a shrill voice, something he thought all those maids possessed, told him to follow. He did as she said and walked closely behind her, head down and hands at his sides. As they walked closer to their desired destination sounds and voices filled his ears, but they weren't yells or screams but strangely that of laughter and music.
He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face; he knew full well what this meant. He was going to be able to interact with other people, though they were most likely older than him by a great number of years though at this moment he could care less.Walking into the room his face immediately fell, and with his faded smile, his hopes disappeared too.
---
Broken Porcelain
---
1 http:// en.wikipedia. org/wiki/ Otedama (Remove spaces) If you want to know more about it and how it's actually played. It does get quick hard as the game progresses. I tried it and it was difficult after the fourth round. Maybe I'm just uncoordinated.
I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter. Sorry for it short length but I thought, just as I had before, that this would be a wonderful place to end it. Thank you for reading.