]Warning: Includes depression, orphans, and abuse. Read at your own discretion.
Sirens. They pound over and over like a dull ache. I think I hear the word ‘vigilante’ repeated, like day and night. White light is floating around, changing into shapes; memories. Mother. Her face tan, wide brown eyes. Her cheekbones hollow. The jet black hair, floating behind her. I feel my face getting wet. I hear a screaming The sound feels close. Then, I realize it’s my own.
The damp smell of the car awaits me when I wake. I tilt my head to see that we have already left the parking lot. I was always told that when life throws you a curveball, you’ll be ready. This was the only thing Mother was wrong about. Well, second. The seats in the car were new and looked as if the car belonged to the president. Then, again, I have never ridden in a car before. In New York, you could walk practically everywhere.
I reach for my bag, stretched out across the seat. My hand rummaged through the junk and trash I had collected. Wrapping my hand around the case, I pulled out my phone. Trembling, I turned it on. Mother’s face, there, next to mine. If I had been any bit older, the public would have thought we were sisters. Our eyes looked brown, like the trunk of a pine. Mother and I’s hair looked as if the night sky reflected off of them creating an illusion of stars. We had both been born with hollow cheekbones. Our skin was tan, unusual for an Asian girl. My eyes notice the smiles on our faces, the smile I had lost years ago. This picture was displayed on a gift from people who pity people like me.
I shoved my phone back into the trench and glanced out the side window. Now, big glass buildings had transformed into pines, surrounded by big brick houses. I already found myself hating it.
The brakes screeched, causing marks, in front of a brightly lit house. The driver, Mrs. Miyake, gently twisted the wheel and sent us flying down the driveway.
“You excited!” Mrs. Miyake stated, leaving no time for me to respond. I don’t care I would have stayed in my silence anyway.
I kicked open the car door, my bag swinging around. A sign was nailed in the perfect lawn, ‘Go Hillary.’ Crazy people. I never cared for politics. Anyway, we’re in Japan. My eyes spotted the path, leading to the front door. Mrs. Miyake stood, waiting, like a lion ready to pounce. These people are not my life, they are just a nightmare.
Without knowing it, I am already at the door. Mrs. Miyake outstretched her finger and pressed the bell. Silence. Footsteps. The lock turning. The sparrow flies, carrying my heart, my mind, and my conscience away with it. Light pours on my eyes, lighting them a flame.
A lady, tall and slender, stands in the doorway. “Oh hi Mrs. Miyake. I didn’t expect you to arrive this early?” the lady exclaims. “This must be our package.” Her eyes land on me, waiting for me to take her outstretched hand. Of course, I didn’t take it. I already hated this woman. “I am Mrs. Hashimoto. Your new mother. You can call me ‘mom’.” Her hand still outstretched. “I’d rather not,” I responded, snapping my head in the process. The woman scrunched up her face. Good. This is exactly what I wanted, her to hate me. “Where’s her stuff?” Mrs. Hashimoto turning, directing her attention towards my current guardian, wanting no more to do with me. “She doesn’t have any.” Mrs. Miyake reported. Well, thanks for stating the obvious. Mrs. Hashimoto gestured me inside, leaving and Mrs. Miyake alone to talk.
The inside of the house was spacious. It seemed as if there was no mudroom, but merely a grand lobby, staircases stretching from each side. I keep my shoes on, not willing myself to feel welcome, and trod up the stairs. Velvet carpet lined the floorboards, creating a look of a musty, old castle. Paintings, stacked, up and down the walls with what seemed to be descended family members, each one staring, burning a hole in my head. Feeling my heart race, I started to sprint up the stairs, leading myself to a gorgeous yellow hall. Every single(Oakwood, I think.)door was open, emitting light onto the dusty floor. All except for the last door. A rope tugged at my chest toward the room, or whatever lay behind it. My legs began to move on their own, step by step until my feet grounded themselves. Sweat trickled down my neck, causing my hair to stick. My fingers reached out and took hold of the knob. Tight and stiff, my body was. The brass seemed to glow as my hand turned; a creaking sound followed. Surprisingly, the door eased open, revealing nothing special. Before I was a room, everything drowned in a disgusting colour of pink. No blue, green, or even brown. Carpets full of the nasty colour, covered every inch of the ground. The legs on the bed looked as if the carpet grew arms. Barf(That is what I will be calling this room from now on.) had to have belonged to a young child. Everything felt shrunken.
“This was mine once.” The voice reached my ears before I could turn around. A girl, no older than me, stood before my eyes, snapping her gum. She must be one of those girls you call ‘popular’. Blinding white, her hair was. Her face was puffy and pale. This girl was the complete opposite of me. He blue eyes locked to mine. “Get out of my house,” she scolded, “I will call the cops.” I was going to reject her command. This is my new house and all. The idea was at the tip of the tongue until I realized; she has, finally, given me an excuse to run. Let my feet pound on the pavement; having me transported home. I could see my mom. I could say hi. I snapped back to reality, and sprinted through the hallway, shoving the girl in my wake.
I am running again. I always run. Mother used to call me ‘the running man’ because I ran too much. I still do. My destiny is to be faster; I wasn’t fast enough before. Time. It hates me; wants to beat me. Time always wins. If only I was time itself I could…
My body jerks to a stop. “Darn, that stupid man. It’s all his fault.” I mutter. He is the one who caused my pain. In the distance, I hear the girl coming after me. I reach out to grab the door when Mrs. Hashimoto swings it open. My face smacks against the door, sending me to the ground. My eyes start to cry a swimming pool of salted crimes. I roll over onto my front, a familiar blinding white pain filling my head, my eyes, my soul. Bodies hover over me; hot breaths trickling down my neck. I try to focus on their words but it sounds as if they just swirl down, down, into a spiralling drain.
The girl approaches, her blurry figure eyeing me. She halts right before my face, her leg raised. My whole world goes black as she brings it upon my face.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Um...He’s not here.”
“Is he at work? He promised that he’d play checkers with me.”
“No...He is uh...busy.”
“Ok. When will he be home?”
“Not for a while sweetie. Not for a long while.”
I awake to find myself in the hospital, again. A pile of clothes lies in the chair closest to me, occupying it.
“Oh. Good. You’re up. Your parents are on their way here to pick you up.” the doctor says, lingering at the door, wielding his clipboard as if it was a shield. The doctor was Dr. Bloomberg. He hates me, along with all the other nurses. My first visit wasn’t the best. I kinda...yelled and clawed at those who tried to get near me.
I glanced down at my lap and noticed that I was fully clothed. Creepy. My torso twisted and I turned, shut my eyes, and drifted off again.
I was awakened by the rough hands of Mr. Hashimoto. My brain realized, Mr. Hashimoto looks just like Mrs. Hashimoto. That is scary. I would have suggested that they were related, twins even.
When my vision came into full focus, I saw her. The girl who struck me in the face. “Asako, say sorry to your sister.” Mrs. Hashimoto scolded her daughter. “She is not my sister,” Asako responded with such a tone that it almost seemed like she could cut out my heart and not give a care. Agreed. I am not this rotten brats’ sister.
We all stood there(Well I sat there.)in utter silence.
“Come on, let us go home,” Mr. Hashimoto charmed, ”We all know you’ve got school tomorrow.”
Dinner that night was silent. Not even a word. Above us, the chandelier glittered, illuminating stars all about the room. The table stretched far, creating enough room that if I stuck my elbows up, I would not even come in close contact with the next person. Before me, my steak and broccoli swirled round and round. They, Mrs. Hashimoto and her cook Saya, probably poisoned it, having the food create a feeling of joy. I won’t be happy. I can’t be happy. Me, I need to go home to my real home, New York. I want to go back to the dirty allies and the absent venders. I miss my little house, containing my collection of glass bottles. I miss the alley cat Tom; he brought me dead rats. But most of all I miss my mother.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Mr. and Mrs. Hashimoto shot out the question, their mouths perfectly in sync. I stood up, pushing my chair back against the wall. “I’m not hungry,” my hands running up and down the side of my perfectly pressed jeans, “I just wanna go to bed.”
I laid there in bed wishing I had eaten the food, even if it was poison. My stomach squeezed, twisted, and churned, making my throat burn. I vomited.
“How was your day, cat girl?”
“It was okay.”
“You sure? Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Nobody likes me, Mom. Nobody.”
“Oh, I love you, Blake.”
“No. Nobody likes to talk to me.”
“Sweetie, they’re just jelly.”
My mom stood before me, her work uniform still on. The image faded. Now, here she is, sick as a dove in the rain.
“Mom! Are you okay?”
“Mom! I’m going to get a doctor!”
“No, just stay here with me. Get medicine.”
I was stupid. I ran to the hospital.
“Please, she needs help!”
“Sorry other patients need me.”
“She’s gonna die!”
“No. Sorry. I’ll send Dr. Jason instead.”
I took too long. She left.
She is gone now, never to be seen by my eyes ever.
I awake. Tears flow down my face. I throw my blanket over and step out of bed. My hair stuck up, making me a perfect replica of Medusa. Lifting my hand; I checked my watch. School starts today. I sprinted over to the closet, swing open the door, and snatch the outfit laid out for myself. A blue shirt with dull words spelling out ‘New York Queen’ paired with a pair of dark blue ripped jeans. Quickly, I shimmed out of my night-wear. Snatching my brush, I started to part my hair, throwing my clothes on in the process. As soon as I am done; my feet stomp down the staircase. A bowl of cereal has been left on the counter for me. I taste a spoonful, my palate exploding. It was so bad. Milk comes flying out of my mouth. My throat is stained with the taste of lead; heavy and metallic.
I leave my bowl there, not willing to pick it up. My lunch bag rests on the counter. It’s covered with unicorns, so many it seems as if they starting an invasion. My eyes linger on the bag a little bit longer until I decide to toss it in my backpack. I, then, sprint over to the shoe bin and grab my high-tops. They easily slip on my feet.
“Have a great first day of school!” Mrs. Hashimoto shouts at me as I leave. I don’t respond, but instead hurry and slam the door behind me. Asako is already on the porch, snapping her gum and texting her friends like always.
“Hello Dork.” she says clearly acknowledging me.
“Hey, Sea Witch.” my new nickname for her. She cringes; suddenly straightening her back. A few minutes pass by with tense silence. This silence was shattered, though, by the low grumbling coming down the street. Metal chain clanked, along with the screeches of the brakes. A yellow school bus, with the black letters spelling out ‘Bus #13’ on the side, pulled up in front of the house(And yes, I do know how to read.). Swinging my bag over my arm, I approached the vehicle. I broke my stride three feet from the door. A lady, tall and dark with a pair of green spectacles, questions me, “What’s your name, hon?” I could tell her a fake name, but before I could think of one “Blake.” rolls off my tongue.
The doors swing open. I reach out, grab the railing, and hoist myself up. Asako is right behind me, not even lifting a glance from her phone.
Plastering a fake smile on my face, I turn and face the fellow children. Not many seats were empty. My body shuffles down the aisle and plops into the first empty seat I find. Tilting my head, I watch Asako retreat to the back to sit with the senior guys and her friends. A guy tall, with jet-black hair, leans over. His eyes, staring at me. The boy puts a hand up and whispers to Asako. She nods; a smile growing on her face. I snap my head back.
Unprepared, as I am, a paper ball hits my head. People really need to watch where they are throwing. I grab my bag, take out my phone and earbuds; Broadway time. I click my Hamilton playlist and start jamming.
About halfway through the first song, more paper balls hit my head. I know they trying to annoy me so I act unphased.
I keep my act up for ten whole minutes until we finally reached our destination. A tall brown building stands before me. In the top right corner are the words Kaibara High School. Those words stab into me, carving enough space for them to linger. My body goes stiff as my feet hit the asphalt. People are running everywhere. I feel them, the rush of the school. Some kids are standing outside in groups, forming...a zoo? One group was full of beautiful girls, another with athletic guys. Everyone seemed to belong to a group. My mind wanders, trying to find its rightful place. A particular group grasps my attention. There were six kids, all clothed in black, standing near the back of the school. Not one of them was makeup-free or colourful. My head drops and scans my body. Would I fit in? I start to scuttle over when a hand grabs my shirt collar.
“You may not want to talk to them.” a gentle voice flowed into my ears. A girl with dark brown hair, eyes like an almond, was smiling at me. She was small, with a tiny waist and tan skin.
I maybe stood there would hours, but the ringing of the bell snapped me out of my trance.
“Oh gosh I gotta go!” I told the kid.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” she questions me.
True. I didn’t know where in the heck I even was. Maybe in the courtyard. My eyes surveyed the grassy area. I turned and faced the girl.
“No. I may need some help. First, what’s your name?” I asked for help. I never do that.
“My name is Tohru Honda. I am a first-year, you?” Tohru Honda, huh? She sounds like a nice person.
“Really? I am a first-year, too! The name’s Blake Schnee.”
Her face changed to the strangest expression, happiness and surprise. It’s kinda cute.
Maybe I made a new friend. A truly good friend. Maybe.
The school wasn’t so bad after all. Well, so far.
After the 5th period, it was lunch. Lunch is, literally, where the stronger pick out the weak. It’s where you choose who you are for the rest of your life here. The choice is like life and death. Near the front of the cafeteria is the nerd’s table. Never sitting there. Next was the dorks. All of them decked out in square glasses and braces. I spot Tohru near the back. By instinct, I wave. She doesn’t see me. Clutching my sketchbook to my chest, I briskly walk down the aisle. I enter the lunch line, only purchasing a salad. Plopping down at the nearest empty table, I begin to draw.
I am interrupted by the rude voice of Asako Hashimoto. Her and her stupid friends surround me. A boy, very tall with brown hair and light skin, stands with them. My heart starts pounding.
“Hey, loser! This our table.” my sorta sister spits.
The girls start bumping my chair. The chalk clasped in my hand slips, leaving a dark streak on the paper. I feel my heart stop. My paper is...ruined.
I open my mouth to say something but am silenced by another voice.
“Leave her alone.” the boy standing with Sea Witch and her friend pipes up.
“What are you doing Juan?” Asako snaps, the muscles in her arms tensing.
She flips her hair and motions to her girls. They walk away leaving me alone with Juan or whatever the kid's name is. He approaches me and sits down right next to me. I feel my cheeks flush. He is definitely going on my crush list.
“You’re really good at drawing! Can you show me some of your others?” Juan asks me, putting on a silly face.
I open my sketchbook to the animated characters section. The first drawing was of a Japanese warrior. Then there was a comic of my favourite anime, Attack on Titan. Juan flipped the page; his eyes grew huge. A picture was taped on the page, a picture of me. I was in my favourite outfit, the one my mom bought me. In the photograph I was kneeling on a New York City sidewalk, my back pressed against a brick wall of an alley.
“You’re so...pretty.” Juan’s eyes laid upon me.
I kept my face straight; sorta shocked. Nobody, besides my mom, has ever said that to me. Sweat trickles down my neck and my face turns pink. The pink faded into the red until I realized he probably noticed. Snapping my head back to its original position, I reminded myself that boyfriends are not on the agenda list. My eyes glance up at the clock. 5 minutes til study hall or 6th period.
“Are you okay?” Juan noticed I was acting up.
“Thank you. For what you said earlier.” I responded.
“You’re welcome.” You wanna sit with me tomorrow?”
I pushed my chair back and stood up, waving goodbye to Juan. My brain replayed the past 15 minutes over and over again. What am I thinking? I can’t like this kid. He is friends with Asako. What if she is not that bad? I turn around to pick up my drawing materials. My thoughts drift and twist around and around. I am about to convince myself that Asako is great when Tohru scares me. A worried look crosses her face.
“I saw you sitting with Juan during lunch. He is a bad kid. I wouldn’t trust him. He has a horrible reputation for breaking girls hearts.” Tohru informs me, her eyes full of worry.
My mind started to swirl.
“But he stood up for me.” I voiced my thoughts aloud.
“How about you sit with me at lunch tomorrow? I’ll tell you more about him and his jockeys tomorrow,” Tohru smiles at me, “I will walk you to your locker.”
The bell charmed as we left the cafeteria, heading towards my locker.
My locker was located near the science room. Before lunch, everyone from class leaves when I get my stuff from my locker.
Nobody ever saw inside it though.
I had a picture of my mom and dad. Many pieces of my art decorated the rest of the blank space.
One fateful afternoon, I found out why my dad ran away. I tore the picture in half.
And burned his face.
Tohru was silent, walking next to me, or maybe it was me who was the silent one. The halls were brick, white and blue tile floor. Very few students still lingered in the hall. As we approached my locker, a thought crossed my mind. Why is Tohru walking me to my locker? I could have come up with different phenomenons, but I gave myself one answer, ‘Because she is my friend.’
“Aren’t you gonna open it?” Tohru reminded me.
My body jerked and I entered my code. Then, I pulled it open, cautiously. Pain landed a direct punch to my gut. Tohru kept at a straight face, but I could see in her eyes that this was something she didn’t want to see.
Inside the depths of despair was the most horrific thing that one could possibly she in a locker. There were pictures, burned and torn. There was the drawings of me, my heart in my hand, letting the red ooze drip through my fingers. The drawings of me burning the man who made me. Pencil sketches of my mother watching me burn.
The words, though, are what stun the most.
“It’s all your fault.”
I strung them across the, most of, the inside. It was the only way to remind me, to wrap the words around my soul, that I was the cause. The reason.
Tohru’s eyes scanned my locker, and then, began to do it all over again. She must have begun to realize that I was a lost cause. A rice ball in a basket of fruits. Except, I am a rice ball filled with the sins of the world, filled with the trash and garbage from the minds of psychopaths and criminals. I am the undead, roaming around in the presence of the living.
Trying to keep her calm, I could tell, she looked me in the eye. Her brown orbs glistened with sadness. Two glass orbs trying to hide the thoughts and images gnawing at her, oh so sweet, mind.
“Do y-you want to come o-over la-later today, after school?” Tohru asked, me hiding the shock.
“Sure,” I responded. I had no plans, well, only mostly wanting to avoid Asako. The only reason I would want to see her is if I would be sinking my knuckles into her swollen face, scaring her brain with the memories of it.
The rest of the day went according to my predictions. Walk into classroom, introduce myself, pretend to pay attention, and give everyone who laid there eyes on me the you-better-stop-looking-at-me-or-you-won’t-get-to-see-the-daylight-of-tomorrow look. Thank god I didn’t have homework, the voice in my head was telling me not to do it, if I had received any. When the final bell rang to announce the prison release, I cautiously made my way to my locker. I snatched my bag and set off on my mission through space to find Tohru.
The little voice rattling my brains told me she should be in the courtyard, the place where most people hang with each other. Only, I knew my so-called ‘sister’ would be there, so I saved it as a last resort. But soon, I changed my mind, after seeing the crowds of people fogging up the hallways, like the way my conscience does when I try to reach it. It was that way with my sister, I try to reach, try to hold her close, but she only ends up jumping. Jumping to the end. To the place where so many like myself have dreamed of going, but never had the courage to make the journey.
I spin on my heels and head towards the light, leaking through the doors. My feet began to move along with the rhythm of life, the rhythm of my heart. They go faster and faster, until I cannot tell the difference between of what I want and what I need. My palms push open the gates to Earth, the gates out of my mind. Away from my constant travels inside the thoughts raking my skull. The gates back to reality.
I use my forearm and shield my arms from the sudden change in lighting. A fuzzy figure of Tohru stands out to my right. I fight the light, burning through my head, and walk over to her. The girl who showed me the works ended up not being alone, as I supposed. Two boys, approximately a head taller than the little girl, stood in front of her, as if I was a danger to her health. Tohru gave a slight wave and a half smile. I smiled in return and was about to greet her, but was abruptly interrupted by a cocky voice.
“Who are you? We don’t need anyone from the Yucky Yuki fan club following us around or are you here to mess with Tohru because if damn are you’re going to have to go through me.” the boy with red eyes and orange hair, safeguarding Tohru, threatened.
Tohru began to freak out. She shot her hand out and grabbed the, now tensed, boy’s arm.
“Please excuse Kyo! He is like this all the time,” she explained, then directing her attention towards the ‘Kyo” she spoke of, “She is a friend of mine. She just moved here. Remember? She is in our homeroom class. I met her and invited her over.”
Kyo’s face seemed to relax, but scrunched right back up again as soon as the other boy started speaking.
“Well, hello Tohru’s friend. I am Yuki Sohma. What a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Tohru’s is a friend of mine. And what is your name?” the gray eyed, silvered haired boy named ‘Yuki’ said.
Yuki seemed like a nice kid. Like some person I could feel comfortable getting to know. I had heard earlier today that he was extremely smart. Maybe he could help me catch up to the educational level that was required for our age group. I had taken the entrance exam and, somehow, passed. I couldn’t help but keep thinking about me, about how much these two boys reminded me of my sister and I.
Just run! They want you to run! Blake, I demand you to run! The voice in my head. It had returned, just to attach me to strings and play me to do what it wanted. I tried to keep my face normal, but the difficulty was high.
“M-my name is…,” I began to grit my teeth halfway through my sentence, “BLAKE SCHNEE! I AM FROM…” I ended up screaming the rest of my sentence.
In my head, I am falling. Through darkness, I am falling. My hands reach out and try to grab the image of my sister hovering far above me. She looks at me and turns away. Her figure ignores me, leaves me behind. My father then appears next to me. He glares and kicks me, kicks me farther down into the abyss. His face curled up into a sneer. The world around me ripples and my mother, she is standing above me. Tears stream down her face as I try to tell he I am sorry. I try, but I can’t. The voice of her. Her voice, says to me, It’s all your fault. She fades away. I try to scream, but I have no voice. Nobody can save me now. I am alone, for my whole life I was destined to end up this way.
In the my anchor world, the three living souls looked at me. They stared at me and my dead soul, my eyes to them, black. The images in my head, not available to them. My struggle in the dark, unheard. The only thing that saved me from certain, endless, flight was the sharp pain that seemed to spread across my face.
A bright light made its way into my eyes. Spread out before me was the same world I had left, the same people. The breeze blew across my face and I felt a storm coming. A feeling began to creep over me that maybe if I wasn’t here than they would all be...safe. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling anyway.
“We should get going.” I say, shuffling my feet, trying to make my shadow move.
“Yeah! Let’s get going guys!” Tohru exclaimed, I could tell, trying to hard to sound happy.
Silence consumed me as we walked. Tohru and her bodyguards talked, while I took in my surroundings. Cherry blossoms blew in the breeze, creating a hurricane of flower petals. The color, the shade of pink, sparked a memory. A terrible one too.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“But she is going to be able to come home, right?! Answer me goddamn it!”
“She has a mental disorder, but if it gets worse tell us. We don’t want it getting loose. Your daughter, ma’am, is a monster. If anything goes wrong, if she hurts you, kill her.”
The color drained from my face. I...am a monster. My whole world broke. It broke into tiny shatters. My mother...would kill me. She would kill her own daughter. My aunt seemed to agree with this proposal.
“If she tries to kill anyone, I will kill her.”
“NO! You will not kill my baby!”
Mother grabbed my hand and we ran. Out of the ward, into the night. Just seven year old me and her mother, sprinting into the darkness. To somewhere, far from here. Far from Japan. The girl and her mother, me, into Japan’s shadow, America.
Everything results in darkness.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, followed by a voice.
“Hey, kid. We are here.” Kyo’s voice informed me of our location.
I looked around to see a residence hidden in the trees. Perfect place to live, if wanting to hide from humanity. Tohru and Yuki were already making their way to what seemed to be the entrance inside the household. My neck snapped and I took a good look at Kyo. A blush started to creep up my cheeks and I could feel my face start to heat up. Stop. I couldn’t be falling for another guy. Stick with the high school checklist, Schnee. Come on!
“I am sorry for being a weirdo earlier. It’s just hard when you want to control something you can’t. ‘Ya know, like holding back a monster inside of yourself or something like that. It has just been really hard, that’s all. I am not saying I don’t like you or Yuki or Tohru, it is just, friends weren’t my number one goal for school. But what the heck! I don’t care! I am happy Tohru let me come over! Wait one sec, do you live with her? Yuki too?” I spilled out to Kyo.
He turned to face me and gave me an expression between ‘what the heck’ and ‘I understand’. His red eyes softened and he inhaled as if he wasn’t going to breathe for the next ten minutes.
“Yeah. Me and Yuki both live with Tohru. Well, it’s more like she lives with us, ‘ya know? Her mother died about a month ago, so she lived in a tent until Yuki and Shigure found her in the forest. She asked to stay until her grandpa’s house was finished, so we said yes.” Kyo informed me.
My face turned to mush. Tohru’s mom died? How could she be so...happy? After my mom died, I ran away, blamed it all on myself. At least she would become one person I could talk to about my mother. About why I need to rid the world of this disease known as me. Mother Earth doesn’t need a monster roaming her surface, mixing in with all the humans.
I composed myself after a hand began frantically waving in front of my face.
“You okay? You, like, zoned out there for a second. But it is not like I care,” Kyo huffed. His hand wrapped around my forearm tugging me along, “Come on.”
The stupid tangerine head dragged to the front door, and, without even bothering to open it, shoved me inside. Kyo shoved me through the door! And I thought I was stupid. A handsome black-haired man stepped out from behind the wall. He palmed his forehead and gave Kyo a warning look. In his fuming anger, the boy next to me flew his arms out, catching my necklace. Ripping, tearing away my anchor. The last thing I have of my mother.
My humanity slowly began to slip away, as he had just torn me apart. I needed to get away from people and fast. From the tests I took, I knew it would only take a few minutes before I would become a danger. If they found out. They’ll come. Oh crap, they’ll come. And when they come, I won’t be able to see tomorrow.
My eyes scanned the floor and the metal of my security was not spotted. Switching to my emergency plan, I shoved Kyo out of the way and ran through the ‘once door’ way. My legs began to move faster, my blood began pumping rapidly. Darkness, little spots of it, found its way into the corners of my eyes, making it difficult to see where I was headed. My hearing was lost, for an eerie silence stretched around the trees and through the forest.
Keeping my mind focused to running, getting away, the foggy trained slowed. It wouldn’t matter if they saw me, I would just die anyway. Mother would want me to die. She knows that it should have been me who got sick. Me who asked for the medicine, and her to be the one to grab a doctor, leaving me to die alone. Father didn’t want me. My own sister jumped from me. She wanted to get away from me. They all did.
And they all still do.
- Title: A Bad Case of Rattus Faber
- Artist: homosexualanthony
A short story that I had written for my English class in seventh grade. I am still in love with the concept though and hope that I have a chance to finish it one day.
I replaced character names with names of characters from animes I have watched because I am still deciding on them.
- Date: 09/12/2019
- Tags: case rattus faber shortstory fiction
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