#dark pasts

“Her words torched my insides, squeezing my heart so tight that I had trouble breathing. My heart perforated. I had to stop her before she killed me.”

Don't forget to get your copy of Lightness in my Dark before it returns to its normal price.

Male: Aghadi or Caspian

Everyone says that they have to dark of a past for others to understand. Others say the past scars them from moving forward but here to all those who think that:a butterfly the most beautiful and delicate thing you can imagine can still fly with 70% of it's wings gone. No matter the kind of past you have had you can still fly and still be beautiful and stronger.

10 Cities You Probably Didn't Know Were Built on Slavery

Our newest Top 10 List can be found here: http://www.toptenz.net/10-cities-probably-didnt-know-built-slavery.php - written by Morris M

“Mom?” he knocked softly on her door, peeking right behind the door frame to hide his puffy, red face.

“Yes, dear, tell me” she pushed herself away from her desk and turned to face the door. She was wrapping up  her work already apparently, otherwise she wouldn’t have turned so fast. Or maybe she realized he was crying.

He made himself visible. Eyebrows furrowed together, and front bangs damp from trying to wash his teary face away, he breathed in and said in a broken tone: “I’m-- I’m not straight.”

His mother raised her eyebrows and her mouth formed a soft ‘o’. He had wanted it to be quick, so that he could go cry in the safe place that provided his room. He didn’t want to look weak. His face distorted as he tried to contain himself.

“It’s okay, darling. I’m sorry you were scared” she stood up and held his hands away from his face. She looked deeply into his silver eyes and smiled softly. “It’s okay. It’s okay...”

He looked right back into her reassuring brown eyes, and couldn’t help but start sobbing again. “I’m sorry--”

His mother uncovered his face once more. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She kneeled beside him, hands still holding his small ones. “So tell me, do you like boys?”

He didn’t know. He did not know. “I-- I don’t know! I just--” he started shaking again, in spite of his mother’s shushing sounds. 

“So, maybe boys, maybe girls...? Is that what you mean?” she asked once again, in a really soft voice, almost cautiously. He blinked back at her, processing this idea. It seemed close enough, so he nodded softly. 

Everything was so confusing.

“Mr. Laskaris. Mr. Laskaris! Someone snap him back to reality again, please...” the voice hammered him inside his own mind and he blinked as a couple of fingers snapped repeatedly in front of his face.

“Stop that shit” he hissed at his attorney.

“Mr. Laskaris, I am going to repeat the question one last time... Can you describe, with utmost detail, your relationship with your older brother Junko?”

“Now, now,” his mother said again with a cautious, yet sweet voice.

“I... I never really liked him.” he started off.

“There’s no need to cry, Tori sweetheart, you are definitely the most complex case I’ve ever seen in a kid, I grant you that. But that doesn’t give you a reason to cry, there is never a reason to cry like this.” she wrapped her arms around him and walked him to the kitchen. He felt safe.

“I thought...”

“Tears are precious, Psyhi mou, don’t let the water of your golden garden of a soul spill away for such trivial things like this. You are not the standard kid who enjoys throwing mud at each other’s faces, so what? You don’t entirely like girls, so what? It doesn’t change anything regarding how much of a sweethearted person you are.”

He sobbed one last time, and touched his chest, concerned. “Golden hearts must weigh a lot.”

His mother laughed, “Well, they are indeed a heavy burden,” she said lovingly as she used warm water from the kitchen’s sink to wash his tears.

“Is there anything more precious than gold?” he asked with eyes tightly closed.

“I don’t think there is, Tori, why?” she smiled.

“I just wanted to know what your soul was made of.”

The tired face of the Judge irked him. Just a little, but it was enough to make him lose his words as soon as he had formed a coherent sentence in his mind. Coming clean. Coming clean, that was the whole point of this. He shook his head and looked at the Judge again.

“He started off at the Dome just training during summers, and I tagged along because my parents thought it was a good idea that I... that I learned to defend myself. So... training with someone I knew... like my brother, would somehow provide some mental safety when I got hit... and I wouldn’t immediately slip into panic.”

“When did you learn you had agliophobia?” the Judge asked, in a flat tone. Tori felt his jaw heavy.

“Two years prior to the first training.”

“Was it ever linked to a panic disorder?” he Judge asked again. Tori’s eyes widened, and he looked sideways to his attorney.

“Not that I know of.”

His love for his mother skyrocketed. It’s not like he didn’t love her or trusted her before... It’s just, this time, he took special note of everything that made his mother happy. He wanted her to be happy. 

He asked continuously about the food she made, and dedicated himself to cook with her during the weekends. He learned little quirks she had, like brushing her eyebrows for no reason whatsoever, or holding a finger to her mouth when she tasted a dish.

He also figured he would take interest in the rest of the things that made her happy. He asked several times how his parents wedding had been, and how his dad had proposed. She laughed as she explained to him she had turned him down three times, but he was very persistent. 

“Persistence, Tori. That’s the key to success.”

He asked his mother what her favorite animal was, and when he learned she liked birds, he would paint several canvas of different sizes for her to choose. He learned that this was the origin of his name, too. When his mother had been working at a japanese restaurant, she had picked up various japanese words she found appealing, and came across that word. She decided she’d keep that name, and use it to name her second son as soon as he was born. 

He figured he would also take interest in his own brother, since it was also a reason for his mother’s happiness. He tried hanging with Junko, and soon after realized they were incompatible. Junko liked to wrestle, despised mixing colors, and enjoyed mostly playing outside. Even so, he didn’t stop trying. He learned to respect him, and keep quiet and try to understand when Junko was explaining some game. 

Junko did not share the same respect or patience towards his brother’s activities. He snorted  loudly, and over and over when Tori tried speaking about art during dinner. When he spiraled down into a panic attack because of some unexpected pain input, Junko would outright call him names... which of course the little kid did not understand, but given his mother’s disapproval, he learned they were bad words.

“Why did you collaborate with your brother’s illicit substance trafficking job?”

Tori’s nose wrinkled up. “Sir, with utmost respect, I was not collaborating.”

“Keeping quiet, granting an alibi for his absence, and making special efforts into making the money laundering doable is called collaboration.”

He huffed, and heard his attorney say in a low voice, ‘easy, boy’ as if he was some dog. “I was fucking threatened into it.”

“You’re telling me, you didn’t enjoy one single moment of fame you had?”

Tori’s jaw clenched. He remembered the day he walked in on the dirty business. They were not vitamins, were they? Vitamins to keep him going in spite of the panic state when he was hit inside the ring? How much of an idiot could he be to believe those were vitamins?

“I enjoyed having respect from my brother for once in my motherfucking life. I enjoyed winning. I did not enjoy, however, being the fucking puppet of money laundering, being used as probe, and having to conceal the truth to keep myself alive, or my mother safe.”

The Judge leaned in slightly. “Junko explicitly threatened to hurt your mother?” 

“For shit’s sake! Did you even ask anyone else about Junko’s drug web?!” he slammed his fist down and the attorney immediately touched his arm to restrain him. Tori slapped him away.

“He said, if he didn’t wash all the money as promised weekly, there would be consequences to us all. He said they knew where we lived, and he couldn’t grant safety to all of us. He said it was my responsibility. He said he needed my help.”

His attorney rubbed his eyes tiredly.