Hiya! I'm back. First off, I want to thank everyone for sending me all those lovely E-mails and apologize for getting this out so late, but have been very busy and I worked very hard on this. I didn't realize when I started, this topic would take so much effort. Anyways, I love all this support your giving me. It helps me to keep it going. I'm still practically in shock that you all actually liked my story. *Wipes a tear from her eye* You make me feel so special. Also I would like to thank Cindy for being my editor. So many peoples e-mailed me about it. It was hard to choose. Anyways, on to the authors notes. Author Notes: OK, so you don't get confused, let me explain a few things. First of all it is all in first person, as you will soon see. Secondly, (here is the important part) the rest of the story is going to be told as if Usagi is explaining to you how she got to that drastic point (see chapter 1). Got it? If not, E-mail me with questions, complaints, compliments, comments, anything. Now on to the story! :) ************************************************************************** Title: Falling of an Angel Author: Dreamer Rating: PG, this chapter isn't that bad, just sad. Beware. E-mail: Dreamer3@optonline.net Disclaimer: If I owned Sailormoon do you think I would be writing fanfics? My name is Usagi and I would like to take up a piece of your time to tell you my story. I would like to tell you of how I was drawn into that situation I am in. I wasn't always the way you know me. I used to get good grades, I was at least a B+ student, and I was graceful and together in my motions. I wasn't always a "klutz", as they have called me. I remember a day in school when we were studying mythology. I was trying to pay attention fore I like that subject. Although, bigger problems ran through my head, as they had come to since I met my alter ego. These were thoughts that most high school students don't have to deal with, but that's probably because most high school students don't hold the knowledge that I do. I know too much things for my age, too many mature topics, too much of death and life. Anyway, I remember the teacher mentioning the name of a Goddess that would stick in my mind for a long time. Nemesis. I forget what she is the Goddess of, but I know that her job was to punish those who were too happy. The thought of that sent a chill down my spine. As the days went on my mind would grow so preoccupied that my grades would suffer greatly. Of course, that wasn't the only thing that suffered. One night stands out in my mind. This was the night that I believe truly began my downward fall. It was a Thursday night and I had come home late due to a senshei meeting. I sat alone is my room, trying to do my homework. Actually, the homework was only an excuse to be alone, and a diversion from my parent's all-to-loud fight. I slammed my pen down and pressed my eyes tightly shut as more brutal words flew into my ears. "Then why don't you talk to her!?" A female voice shouted. "Oh, and now this is all supposed to be my fault!" A male voice countered. They were fighting about me. Of course. Their fights had had a lot to do with me lately. It had to do with my grades, coming home late, and who was supposed to be responsible for my sudden horrible behavior. They always tried to point the blame on each other, but I know who was really responsible. I knew who was really to blame for all of this. I knew- Suddenly, my head jerked up as a rough word impaled my ear and a sharp ping flew through my chest. And that's when I heard it. The word I rarely if ever heard my father say to anyone; especially my mother. "Bitch" It came to me as a cold whisper. I never realized that one word could hold such an intense meaning and pain. After that things started to move quickly. The muffled slam of a door flew over to me. I moved quickly over to my window. There I saw the stiff form a man moving towards a blue car parked in our driveway. I watched the man entered the car and screeched away into the dark, lonely night. My eyes drifted to the doorway of our house, where a woman stood. She reminded me of a sad expressionistic painting. Standing so still, clutching her hands and staring with wet eyes at the rocks that made up our driveway. My father had left. Just walked out. Given up. "He's not coming back," I heard myself whisper. I tore my eyes from my mother's sullen form and let my body lean weakly against the wall below my window. "He's not coming back," I said again, as I stared blankly at my bunny clock across the room. It was smiling. I suddenly held a strong mixture of envy and hatred toward it. "He's not coming back," I said again. I remember just mindlessly repeating it. Tears weld in my eyes as the words drifted meaninglessly about my room. My mind and body felt weak. I brought my knees to my chest and held them tightly to me. I closed my eyes tighter. Securing in tears. I felt a sadness overwhelm me. My head fell face down on my knees. I, suddenly, felt immensely overrun with fatigue. A whimper escaped my lips as I sunk into the comforting darkness of sleep. I thanked God Luna wasn't there to see me like this. I have a strong feeling Nemesis was watching over me at that time. What did you think? Let me give you a late warning, depressing story ahead. Beware. I hope you liked it anyway. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE E-mail me, E-mail me, E-mail me, E-mail me! Do I sound too needy? Oh well, I really need comments and ideas are always welcomed.