{A NicePrincess Fanfiction} A Love That Couldnt Last

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(If you can, play the music while reading the italics.)

Nicey immediately tensed up. How had Mickey found out? Did Ozzy know? She knew about his wife, would she bring up bad memories if he did? She tugged at her jeans, gripping it as if she could drag all thoughts of her... Illness from the fabric like during off crumbs.

"I-i-i..... I-its.... "

Her voice cracked. Thinking about it was something she hated, because she already had to experience it, she didn't like having it on her mind, EVER. She fought back tears, not wanting to cry over such a simple question. Oswald took note of the way she was acting. Ortensia didn't enjoy being asked about it either.

"M-mick, I don't think that she should have to ans-"

Mickey held up his hand. He wanted his question answered, and he wasn't gonna be talked out of it.

"Nice, I only want an answer. It's a simple question. "

At those words, something triggered Inside Nicey. A simple question?! The ink could kill her any day, and this was a simple question to him?!

"A s-simple question, to you."

She had mumbled the sentence, but it was loud enough for each of them to hear. Mickey wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"What was that? "

"It's a simple question to you! "

The rise if her voice was sudden, unexpected. Mickey jumped back a bit, Oswald took a step toward her, only to stop for a second, hoping she'd regain her composer on her own.

She didn't.

"Do you understand how hard it is to think about it?! As if its bad enough it could KILL SOMEONE AT ANY MOMENT, now you say being asked about it, is 'simple'?! I'll tell you what's, 'simple'. Asking a question that could trigger bad memories for someone else, but thinking it's okay because hey, at least it isn't you right?"

By now, the tears were an endless waterfall on her face. She had realised she had snapped, folding her hands together and turning to the two.

"I-im sorry... I-i-i should really get going. "

As she turned to walk away, a hand placed itself on her wrist. She froze, waiting for them to let go. She was suddenly spun around, Oswald pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's okay, you're okay. Please... Don't leave. "

Nice hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, apologizing again. Mickey was still frozen, leaning against the table. Oswald pulled away, moving a piece of hair from her face, generally gripping her arms. He treated her like a small child, giving her a calming, sympathetic look, and a smile so gentle it was almost father like.

"We both know you have it, we just want to know how long you've had it."

Nice nodded a little, realising she wasn't getting out of this anyways.

"Well, its a long story. "

___

I had a happy childhood. I had amazing friends, a great family. Everything was perfect. We lived in a secluded part of town so nothing violent seemed to happen there. My parents were very happy together, and I had two best friends who had promised to stay by my side till the end.

But.......

It all ended around 8 years ago. I was sitting in class when I suddenly felt... Dizzy. Nausea was twisting and tugging my head and stomach. Heat began to build up, and soon I was sweating. I noticed... Ink, dripping onto my paper. Then, a wave of pain seemed to crash on top of me. It felt like I'd been stabbed, then ripped apart. All while I was alive and conscious. I remember screams, tearing from my throat, they sounded horrifying, and were so loud, teachers all down the halls of the school same rushing to the classroom. I collapsed onto the floor. A doctor was called I think, cause the next thing I knew, I was being examined by doctors left and right. My mom was pacing outside the door. She was crying senselessly, and I didn't know why. I didn't understand what was happening to me. I'd blacked out moments later, pain still tearing through my body. When I woke up, my mom was right next to me, the doctor talking with my other mother. Yes I had two moms, deal with it. Anyways, they both looked terrified, as if I could die any moment. I felt a whole lot better, and assumed it to be a nightmare...

That is until the next day.

I was sitting at home, glad school was out. I was watching cartoons with my parents when, it happened again. The hot, radiating pain began. Ink was dripping onto the floor, the furniture. I can even remember the first time I threw up ink. The taste was disgusting. Again, another blackout from pain... Only I woke up in a glass cage. It smelled like chemicals. My mom was frantically pounding on it, screaming.

"Please! Please don't take her there, she won't be able to survive! I promise this is a one time thing, please I swear it won't happen again please!"

Doctors grabbed her, dragging her away. I was thrown into the back if a truck, still in just a glass box. I screamed and cried for hours on end, only wanting to see My family, to go home.

. . .

Everything after that is.... To horrible to describe. I was pulled into a lab full of, children, looking no older then 5 to 13 with wings, melting body parts, some had scales, or were snarling at me like rabid dogs. All of them were in cages meant for large or small animals. They looked... Miserable. Terrified, yet at the same time, calm. Me however, I was frantic. I was banging on the glass of my container until I was dragged out of it. I was strapped to a cold, metal table, screaming, struggling. I was... Scared. That's all I can explain it to be. I felt nothing but pure fear.

The rest is mostly a blur of being forced to do horrible experiments. I was forced to run for at most 12 hours at a time once, forced to test out a new deadly medication another time. I wouldn't be able to resist without getting someone killed... Each one was a child who I'd seen in the cages. I soon learned to cooperate. Each time I was strapped onto a table and poked and prodded either needles and tubes, forced to drink disgusting chemicals that were supposed to.... 'Fix' me. Supposed to make me 'normal'. That's what they all told me.

The daily attacks didn't stop, or get any less painful. No, they did the exact opposite. The ink was made excruciatingly painful, I could feel it, dripping and forcing its way through my skin. I would be brutally kicked and beaten until I either passed out or vomited, either way I wound up with bruises and cuts every time. They'd do this everyday, until my attack ended. They wanted a sample of the ink I would throw up, to do experiments on others with. They'd, disgustingly, inject it into others. They'd watch and laugh or take notes as they screamed and struggled, screaming things like

"God have mercy."

Or something similar to it, before they died. The worst part, they made me watch. Made me watch what I could do to people if I didn't learn to hide my attacks, if someone were to catch the disease. I was moved to constant location after location, each place treating me the same way. I didn't have a choice. Eventually, while being transported to a 'research facilty' somewhere in the middle of a Korean desert I think, I managed to break out. I escaped, taking a few winged kids I knew as Max, Fang, Angle, Iggy and who they called 'Gasman' with me. They are experiments those... Demons were testing on because theyd managed to grow wings at younger ages. I loved Angle.... But I felt bad for her. She was only 6 or 7 last I saw her...

Anyways, I escaped and managed to learn to live a normal life, somehow hiding my disease. Eventually, I found this place. I'd moved here, because of the nice community. Everyone was nice to each other, and I loved it. Such a nice change from those Demon Scientists.
___

"So, there you have it. My story... I got the illness randomly,no one could figure out why I'd had it and if there was some reason I'd had it, no one ever told me."

The color and smile on Nice's face seemed to be long gone by now. The memories of her past chased away any trace of happiness she'd had over the last 3 years, and The colors in her eyes had gone dull.

Oswald arms wrapped around her, along with Mickey's. They smothered her with hugs, the color returning to her eyes. As soon as it did, tears began to stream her face. Oswald whispered softly, trying to calm her down.
Mickey only said one sentence, that she wished heard others say to her before who had asked about her illness. The few people that knew about it never felt bad for her, only called her a freak, a demon. Mickey was only one to say something kind after her story.

"In so sorry I made you talk about it.... No one should have to remember that... "