I’d been working on this for a while. I had written in Syaoran’s point-of-view before (in my one-shot, “Strawberry”) but I wanted to write about his when he wasn’t so blinded by lust for Sakura. So I thought, Let’s give the guy a journal and torture him some more!
I know Syaoran does swear, but I probably overdid the swearing and words that wouldn’t be used in civilized conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever heard ten-year-old Syaoran say “whore.” O_o
Um… this is what I came up with. It takes place before he moves to Tomoeda and it follows the anime, not the manga.
And since I’m not certain if a disclaimer is needed, I’ll put one anyway. Cardcaptor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.
Forewarning: It’s very bad, in my opinion. This is why I detest writing in first person.
From the Journal of Li Syaoran
This is pointless. Journals are pointless. But I have to do this to clear my conscience. Hmm, where to start…
Meiling got this for me as a Christmas gift when I was nine. I thanked her and pretended to love it, then shoved it under my bed to gather dust for a year or so. I really, really, really DO NOT like the thought of confiding my problems to anyone/anything, especially a little book. I mean, I don’t really hate the journal itself. It’s bound in brown leather, which is tolerable, I guess. I just despise the idea of writing my deepest, darkest secrets into something that anyone (translation: a certain relative with long black hair and piercing red-brown eyes) can find and read. It doesn’t even come with a lock! So I had absolutely no intention of writing in it. Ever.
If Meiling weren’t so sensitive I’d have told her to return the journal to wherever she bought it. Or, I could have summoned fire and let it burn. I wasn’t ignorant enough to do that, though, for fear of her finding out and skinning me alive. She never could handle having her feelings hurt well. So I decided to shut it away and never look at it again.
But said cousin was crying today for some reason. I thought it was my fault — though I don’t know what I did wrong — so I went to apologize. I knocked on her door, and it took her practically five minutes to come out. I said I was sorry. When girls are mad at you, you’re supposed to tell her you’re sorry, right? That’s what I heard, at least. I expected Meiling to jump on me and drown me with her forgiveness, which is her usual response. Instead, she threw a cupcake at my face and slammed the door shut.
Didn’t she know how long it took for me to make those stupid mini cake things for her? She mentioned to me about craving some, and when I do make them for her, she chooses to use them as snowballs. Why the hell are women created with so many complications?
On the upside, she threw the cupcake at my mouth. And it tasted good. Mmmm.
I guess I was feeling guilty about making Meiling to upset. I was looking for a way to make her feel better when I see a tiny corner of this journal sticking out from under my bed. I picked it up and weighted it in my hands. To write or not to write – that is the question. No way, I decided, and set the book on my bed.
The image of Meiling crying through the night flashed through my head. Argh. Conscience is such a whore. So I groaned and gave the journal a chance. One chance.
Then I opened the damned thing and saw the pink floral-themed pages. And I immediately thought, Screw this. Back under the bed it went, where I planned for it to remain for all of eternity.
Meiling didn’t show up for dinner later on, and then I knew that I must have really screwed up, whatever I did. I could practically feel the journal beckoning me back upstairs. I’m guessing this is part of the guilt process.
It’s pretty obvious what happened after dinner, or else I wouldn’t be writing in this dumb thing.
But on the bright side, I never have to write in this damn journal again.
Well, I’m done with this. Not yet sure if I’m going to continue with it and extend it into a long fanfiction. Syaoran is such a complicated character, and it’s not easy to write in his point-of-view. Since I’m not a boy. I should probably go back and revise it. There are parts where I felt I had written it as if it were my journal, not Syaoran’s. (For example, would Syaoran really say, “Screw this”?)
Ehh, whatever. I’ll do that some other time. Too lazy.
Until next time,
~ Mimi ^_~