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Whimpering echoed throughout the dark room -- hiccups and sobbing could also be heard. In the centre of this room lie a young, small framed girl. She was curled up on her bed, her eyes bloodshot from all of the crying that she had been doing lately. Her fingers were entangled in her long braids, gripping the strands like she was going to lose herself if she let go.
This pathetic soul's name was Fukawa Touko. She had kept herself locked away in her soundproof bedroom to hide from her classmates, on whom she was sure would make fun of her for how much of a crybaby she was. She couldn't help it though.
At this moment in time, since she had been trapped in this school and framed by Togami Byakuya, the murderous side of her had been on a rampage. Because her other self would consume her very being for hours, sometimes even days at a time, she was losing her sense of self and her ability to grasp what time and reality really were.
The only reason she was crying this time was because that serial killer had scarred up her wrists once again, rendering her unable to bathe or even change into something more sleepwear worthy for a while. She also got to listen to the murderer go on the entire day about how she was nothing but a whore for liking Togami and that she needed to be beaten and impounding like the bitch she was. The maniac had managed to beat Fukawa down so far that the writer contemplated suicide. Normally, she wrote such an action off because she believe she deserved every ounce of hate, insults, and bullying that she was forced to submit to. But at this point, Genocider Syo's voice was the only voice she heard and she sounded so much like Fukawa's own thoughts that she couldn't even differentiate if she was thinking these things herself or if the sociopath was speaking on her minds behalf. Either way, it was too much for her.
She continued to let out pathetic sobs, shaking so badly that her own coping method was out of the question. She felt like she was being held prisoner by the homicidal nuisance, almost like the girl was holding her tightly, not allowing her to be relinquished.
At this rate, she doubt that she would even fathom leaving her room during the day when she could run into any of the others. She didn't want Genocider to suddenly thrust her out of her thoughts and control and take over once more -- like she had done with every murder she had committed. She also didn't want them to see her puffy eyes.
She understood that she was upset over something that was inevitable, but she had every right to be upset that there was another personality inside of her who was currently given the freedom to do whatever she wanted, even if that meant killing another human being for her own personal gain.
Fukawa took in a deep breath, finally able to stop crying -- if only for a second. She sat up from her bed and a headache suddenly waved over her. She bit her lip but fought through it. She was sure that headache was due to her tearshed, but there was really not a lot that she could do about that. She let out a sigh as she looked over at her desk that was covered from one corner to the next with papers that had been filled with her writings; that were terrible and she was sure no one would read.
She didn't want to admit it, but Genocider Syo had created her writer's block and caused her to be the complete mess that she was. Normally she could at least write and get some of her stress out, but recently nothing was helping her suffering.
She stared at the ground, feeling another bout of tears whelming her eyes. She didn't want to cry again. She grabbed her wounded arm as tight as she could, rubbing the rough fabric of her uniform over the newly healing wounds. The pain caused her to wince, but helped her focus and feel a little bit less upset.
Fukawa tried her best not to cry again as she sat back down on her bed, staring at her feet. She had been begging a non-existent higher power to free her of the agony that she was forced to fight through; just like any other time, no one answered her plea. She knew that she was destined to suffer. That was all that she was ever going to go through -- agony and pain.
