|
|
|
My name is Aymie. I’m thirteen years old and I moved to Japan when I was eight years old. I still have my virginity as proven by my ears and tail. Even though we don’t know each other, I want to tell you my story. It started not too long ago, or I don’t think it did. Since I met Raphael everything seems to be happening to quickly. But that’s when it started, when I met Raphael.
It was a normal Sunday afternoon. I was sitting in front of the apartments eating my favorite mango-pudding Popsicle. I was wearing tan shorts and a blue tank top, my iPod blasting Perfect World by Simple Plan in my ears. My guardian, who was also my landlord, drove up.
“Aymie! Come here and help!”
My ears twitched at his voice as I stood up clipping my iPod to my shorts and jogged toward him and his small blue VW Beetle. “Yea?” I asked taking the cold treat from my mouth.
“Now go to the trunk and get some bags! I have to show the newcomer his apartment.”
I looked in the back seat. He looked around fifteen, gray hair and ears. His skin was pale unlike my slightly tanned skin. He was wearing really weird clothing, but it was white with a few shades of gray and some weird blue thing attached to his sleeve.
He opened his door and walked out; his tail was short while mine was long. He was carrying some weird guitar and a giant white box; it looked like a miniature house, or a small shrine to pay respects to a lost one. “Let me carry that for you.” I said reaching for it.
His arm moved away from mine as his ice cold eyes met with my cerulean ones. It was almost as if he was telling me no.
“Okay,” I said backing away. “You can carry it. Grampa’ll show you your apartment. I’ll just get your bags from the trunk.” I walked towards the back and opened the trunk finding a single white suitcase. Doesn’t have any boxes? I thought taking it out. It was light.
Closing the trunk I followed after him thumping up the stairs. The Popsicle was making my teeth cold and it ran into my gums hurting. I stopped realizing his door was only one away from mine. “So that kinda makes us neighbors, in some sense.” I mumbled. I walked in and looked around taking the popsicle from my mouth. “Where do you want me to place this?” I asked holding up the suitcase.
He looked at me again and I shuddered. “I’ll just place it here by the door.”
I hadn’t even realized he moved beside me as he took it from my hand. “Thanks.” He said and quickly I realized I was standing in front of a closed door.
That, was so incredibly rude. I mean, he said thanks, but he was just too damn quick! Once I got a boyfriend, if I ever got a boyfriend, I would make sure he wasn’t like this arrogant jerk. “Grampa! What’s his name?” I asked thumping back down the stairs to the lounge.
“Oh Aymie. His name is Raphael. He just moved here from China.”
“I don’t like him.” I stated.
“You don’t like anyone in the same hallway as you Aymie.”
“Hey they all have issues, especially the college students saying I’m small!”
“Aymie, you are rather short.”
“That’s not helping my self esteem.”
He merely smiled. “Did you do your homework?”
My ears perked up my tail stiffening. “I was going to do it later.”
“Aymie, if you don’t do it you’ll have to take remedial classes during your Sunday’s.”
“I know. I’ll work on it now.” I didn’t like working on my homework during the day, I always finished it, but sometimes they’d give me real hard stuff, like business work, and I’d do it in the morning or during lunch, because Grampa doesn’t understand much of what I do.
I walked up the stairs and to my own apartment opening the door. Before I walked in I stopped and turned. “Hey! You’re not supposed to paint on the doors!” I exclaimed at Raphael who had a paintbrush in his hand. But it wasn’t a normal paintbrush; it was an artist’s paintbrush. Slowly I walked forward and he watched me with those silent eyes of his. “Oh. That’s really beautiful.” He had painted flowers, but it was all white. “You still aren’t allowed to paint. You’re going to have to pay for a new door.”
His eyes turned back to the small bowl of paint in his hand as he dipped the brush in and made slow stroke on the tan wood. I would have grabbed his hand, but I was afraid he would ruin it. “You’re Popsicle’s melting.” He said and I looked down at my hand.
“Ack! Thanks for telling me!” I dashed into my apartment shoving whatever was left of the cold ice in my mouth and washing my hands. I had gotten some on my shirt. I grabbed a wet rag and ran back out looking on the ground in case I had dripped. “Some of it broke off!” I started to scrub the carpeted hallway and Raphael watched his ears twitching. “Dangit. Grampa’s gunna be so mad at me. “ I looked up at Raphael and slowed down my scrubbing. “Why are you just staring?” I asked.
I wasn’t sure whether I should be afraid that he was staring, but his eyes, they just held my own, they were locked.
At the time though, I didn’t know he was staring at my soul, my mind. Had I known then what I knew now I’d probably think of myself as insane. One thing just leads to another, a domino effect.
 Your Missing Period · Mon Apr 28, 2008 @ 04:33am · 3 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
