My first little picture story

I remember someday, I tried to forget who I was. A big part of myself tried to throw away his mean part, which wanted to stramp out the living, but another part of me, the other respectfull part wanted to spare this life and watch it for hours. Then, I saw her. Her eyes were fire, her hair... just fiction, while I was standing up there, her magnificent hair was flying in the wind, flight of poetry and grace.



After that, i can't remember what happened. I see details, I heard a scream.Then, nothing. The black out. I suddently was behind her. Her warm neck in front of my bloody mouth. I felt her heartbeat, her fear, her happiness, I felt everything as she.
Back to the dark closet next to her, while she was as living as dead, I tried to get up what happened. When I realised I've destroyed her either, the purrest fragrance and soul I could find, I've hated myself. So much that I couldn't talk no longer.

When she woke up, I was staring into emptiness. My hatred hindered my vision, obviously. Perhaps I didn't wanted to feel alone again, lonely in my despair. Make her know how it was good to seduce and to delight into someone's fears. I wanted her to be as sensitive and tormented as I was.
It was simply my obsession. Someone I could simply lead out of that.
I still do believe it in fact.


Maybe, it's maybe because I came close to her. I wanted to find someone like me in my opposite. I never did believe in fate. World is a lucky question. When you're clever enough to get it, you know how to play. But, playing involved to have strengh. I didn't have any.

I could feel her pain, or I perhaps just would. Trapped into a devil's circle. You have to kick before being kicked out.
In her eyes, sparks and lightnings. Suddently nothing more. Disappointed, I turn my back to her. I shall never see this spark again.



I'm not really sure of it. But I thought she cried.I couldn't know. I have to look at her, but I don't want to see her tears.
In despite of it, I did turn my back, and I saw her face, she was watching over children in the street.
Her sweet hand upon her chin, even if blood dried on her chest, she was clairly beautiful.
I believe, it is at this moment I see the sunlight and a futur.

She wanted to learn, bloodthirsty and lost, without a doubt. Perhaps, she shall teach me how to like living without remors, without regrets and nostalgia. Just a touch.

And now you know, how we are protecting ourselves.
She's watching over me as I'm watching over her.
And our life begins.



And this is our family portrait.

Satine & Kayako.