7The rain fell in a light drizzle today. Smelled smoggy and polluted. Moments like these make me wish I could run through the forest, run so fast not even the wind could breeze by me but I knew, yes I knew, I'd never be that free. It had been raining for a few days now. Odd. Really odd. My gaze focused from its glazed state and watched as the bus arrived. The people around me shifted, anxious to be the first on the bus, first to a seat, first out the rain. The bus pulled in slowly and my eyes locked with the side mirror. Sometimes I'd just imagine the bus not slowing down, keep going, keep going until BAM the side mirror smashes my skull in. Sometimes I imagine it hitting my head so hard my head flies off. A fast death, painless, I'd like that. I join the small crowd to board the bus. Not forgetting my manners and letting the elderly go first, a boy cuts in front of me, probably 16-17. Rude. Is chivalry dead? I look at the time. 4:45. Four plus four is eight plus five is thirteen. I like that number. Prime. Very good number. ( its 10:07 pm. Ten plus seven is seventeen minus four is thirteen. My favorite number) The bus ride is full of a melancholy hum of heart beats, breaths, coughing and the sound of tires on road. Rain slides against the window and I wonder if rain could feel, is it scared? Does it hurt when it collides with the window and slide down, being pushed and merged with other droplets and stepped on absorbed and – the list could go on and on and on? I check the time.5:18. Five plus one is six plus eight is 14 minus seven is seven. Good number. Good number.
I get off the bus and walk home, rain meeting my skin and batting at my eyelashes. My eyes twitched and flicked with each drop. A drop hit me directly in the eye. As I opened my front door and stepped in I counted every step to my room, stairs included. 28 steps. Two plus eight is 10 plus three is thirteen. I love that number. I peeled off my coat and hung it on the closet door knob and dropped my book bag on the floor and escaped my shoes,socks, and clothes in general. Now only wearing my undergarments I searched for my pajamas and pulled them on. I heard the front door open and counted the steps it took for them to come up. 18 steps. I opened my door and watched my dad enter his room. He doesn't have a job right now sadly. We were only suppose to live in this house for half a year and then they'd buy a house. Instead my dad lost his job (his boss was just itching to fire him) and was job searching. My step-mother had to bring in the main income now. They'd have arguments every now and then, bad arguments, the last one was about how my dad stayed on his Xbox. I admit that I even thought he spent too much time on it. He was neglectful and tended to obsess with computers. I remember when I was little and my dad had a computer, he neglected me for days, three days, there's only so much a 6 year old can do and so I ate peanut butter, just peanut butter. Once I had choked and gagged on it for a couple of minutes before trying to wash it down with some water. After that my dad would at least make me meals. And as I watched him from my room as he boot up his computer and turned on his Xbox.
I sighed, the last argument, my step-mother almost left. I had locked myself in the bathroom and…and…
I shivered, red flashing in front of my eyes, and looked at the time. 5:28. Five plus two is seven plus eight is fifteen. Not a good number. My stomach churned, the acid unsettled. Five minus two is three. Ok. Three plus eight is eleven. My stomach settled and my oncoming headache eased. I laid on the bottom bunk. Me and my little sister shared room. Her constant wakening during the night keeps me up, that and the light from the tv. I'd turn it off but…im scared of the dark…
I needed to do my homework. But my feet won't listen to me. I don't usually start my homework until 6:00 pm. But I'll just be tired by then. I sat up, bumped my head on a support beam and laid back down groaning in agony.
" ugh. I. Hate. You." Of course I was talking to a currently absent sister of mine. I honestly didn't like her. She never listened to any of us and never gets punished for misbehaving or lying. Its like our parents wouldn't hesitate to punish us for misbehaving.
My fingers clenched and rubbed at my head, desperate to ease the pain. I counted and rubbed in circles, my eyes shut. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. The ache slowly ebbed away. My efforts of avoiding a headache are in vain. I knew I shouldn't have tried to do my homework before six. If I would have waited I wouldn't be in pain right now. Instead I settled on reading some Death Note fanfiction. I don't usually pair L and Light together, maybe L and B or L and an OC…..or B and an OC but it's a bit harder to find one of those that I like.
As I scrolled through I had the feeling something bad was going to happen. My stomach lurched and bubbled. I imagined the acid being black and thick like tar, slowly eating away at my insides. My mouth watered and I lunged from my bed and out my room and into the bathroom, my lunch and breakfast escaping through my mouth. I tried to breath and the acid burned my throat, crawling it way back up my esophagus and this time choking me and rushing into the toilet. Ringing resounded in my ears and I could feel it vibrating within my skull. I barely registered a creak from my parents room.
"you okay ?!" my dad hollered from his room.
Am I okay? Yes. I'm just fine. Just fine. Just got to get the numbers. Make them work. Line up and then lay down and then it would ease and I could do my homework then sleep.
" yeah, just the school lunch.'' My dad laughed and continued to chat with some online friends that he never met. Barely knew and yet told them everything and anything about what goes on in our house. But he's a liar. Just like everyone else. All stuck in our endless web of lies like flies trying to struggle out. One day I'll be the spider and eat their lies, all their lies and sorrow and pain it would fade and ….and….the numbers would lay down and line up and sleep. It would stop. Stop when I become the spider. My stomach lurched and I spewed more black acid into the toilet.
.
.
I awoke during the night. The support beam in my bed was digging in my hip and rubbed sorely at the bone. The television flickered, throwing blue dots in my vision and I clenched my eyes shut and rolled over and hit my head on something hard. I counted to seven and opened my eyes. There lying on my bed was a cardboard package. I grabbed my switch knife from under my pillow….my dad bought it for me…..
I opened the package and searched through the mountain of foam peanuts until my hand hit something solid. I grabbed it and pulled it out. It was the kuroshitsuji pocket watch I ordered a few weeks ago. I took it out the plastic wrapping and watched the metal dangle on its chain. I caressed it and clicked the trinket open. The time on it was stuck on twelve. I brought my phone from under the bed and checked the time. 2:22 am. My sister shifted on the top bunk. I sat up, my back hunched to hover over and compare the time. I set the pocket watch and waited till exactly 2:23 to let the watch start. Two plus three is five. Good. Five plus two is seven. Good. My stomach fluttered in satisfaction and the bed shifted before the television flicked to a new channel.
Sigh. My sister was awake and as the opening came on for her favorite show. I smothered myself in my pillow, pocket watch clutched in one hand. It was going to be a long night.
.
.
And yes it was a long night. I yawned as I walked to my first period, CADD, a.k.a Computer Aid Drafting and Design. Yeah I attended a trade school. Don't get me wrong its not that I didn't have the grades to get into a better high school I was just lazy and when I actually put forth the effort I could totally dominate grades. Well not dominate but give an above eighty average. If you don't believe me look at my report card or twice in a row honor roll. But as tired as I was right now, walking down the hall, I could have pulled a pillow out of thin air and slept in the middle of the hall and not care about the impending traffic jam I would cause in the halls. I pulled out my pocket watch and clicked it open. 7:59. School starts at 8:00 and class starts at 8:15 but I like to be early to class or at least on time.
As soon as it was 8:00 the bell rang and the footsteps could be heard two floors below, all coming from the cafeteria. I quickly walked in before it became 8:01. My teacher was having a chat with some upper classmen at the computer. I walked to my drafting desk. As a sophomore I wouldn't start working on computers until I finished this last building design. The last one was a duplex design, the entire design was on the quarter scale. I set my things under the desk and sat on the hard stool. I tapped my fingers on the desk until the first of my friends trickled in. First two taps then three taps on one hand then five on the other then eleven on the other and thirteen and seventeen and nineteen and- my friend taneisha walked in and I checked the time 8:12.
"You're late! Why are you late, huh ? Huh Mason?" I could pronounce her name right so I just called her by last name.
"Shut up Stephanie" my friend smiled and swatted at me. I giggled and eyed the door waiting for one more person. I checked the time 8:14. Eight plus one is nine minus four is five. Good. I watched Mason set her things down and pull out papers with scribbled measurements , right triangles, an Ames lettering guide, and her T-square and drafting pencil. I looked back at the door as the bell rang. 8:15. Sydni walked through the door, scarf on her neck and hair done in elegant braids that started at the part in the front and hallo'd her head. Masons hair was shaved all around except in the front where it was braided and track was sown in. It covered her forehead and shadowed her eyes, also hiding the scar on her upper forehead from when she got hit by a car last year( I thought it was cute). I know at least seven people who have been hit by a car. I myself have almost been hit three times since 2013 started. Some drivers are purposefully trying to hit us, at least that's what I think. So instead I look like a chicken with its head cut off trying to run across the street before I get pancaked by an SUV. As class continued more and more students trickled in. Our class didn't truly start fifteen minutes after 8:15 simply because nobody shows up on time.
As class wore on even more students showed up and slowly the volume of class increased. I went to sharpen my pencil and as I passed mason I kicked her in the back of her knee and laughed as her knees buckled and she braced herself on her desk. I turned and pranced away before she could hit me and sharpened my pencil before returning to my desk.
.
.
I watched my pocket watch, counting down until 9:50, the exact time when the bell rang. Nine plus five is fourteen minus seven is seven. Good. I suddenly felt sick, the crowded hall dimmed and whoots of laughter rang out, someone found the light switch. The crowd suddenly got tighter, more compressed and the floor cleared ahead. Screams and shouts vibrated and echoed in the hall, in my ears, and I was roughly elbowed in the ribs. My breath left me and I crumpled to the ground and looked through the legs of the teens around me. Ahead on the floor I could barely make out two girls grappling at each other, pulling hair and throwing punches. I could hear ripping and the scream and insults and noise and the sickness and my stomach lurched and bubbled, swaying in its place attached to my ribs which ached at its weight. I hated fights and violence; I hated close contact with people in the first place. The room spun faster as voices rose and the screaming and squawking and the sound of flapping wings and flying insects and…oh god I was going to be sick. I elbowed my way around the fight and hall monitors and police and ran toward the bathroom. Threw open the door and ran into a stall where I dislodged this morning's breakfast into the toilet. The room spun dizzyingly fast, I braced myself on the stall and did my best to stand on shaking legs. The room suddenly tilted to the left and I fell with it, hitting my head on the other side of the stall. Red cloaked my vision and my stomach twisted and knotted.
Numbers. The numbers. I had to make them line up and lie down. I pulled out my phone, forgoing the effort of making out the numbers on my pocket watch. 10:03. Ten plus 3 is thirteen. Wonderful. Ten times three is thirty minus seven is twenty-three. Good. Good. Okay. Breath.
It wasn't working, the room was slowly darkening until it was nothing but pitch black. Suddenly blinding light burst into the darkness, licking the air around me in orange and red wisps. The sound of crackling wood reverberated through my ears and suddenly all I can feel is intense heat. I looked around and finally the black receded until I could make out the burning room and then came the smell and the coughing. The air was choking and suffocating. Each lungful of ash made my lungs ache and burn. I looked around trying to find a way out. I was in the kitchen and quickly headed through the door to the living room. The sound of splintering woods was followed by a loud crack and the ceiling caved in. sending ashes and embers flying into my face. I coughed and choked, desperately gasping for air.
I moved my way around the fallen support beam and ran to the door. I ran out just in time as the whole building came down in nothing but burnt wood, fire, and lost memories. I gasped, desperate to bring in the oxygen my lungs yearned for. A paramedic ran up to me and yelled back at the firefighters. His words were nothing but buzzing in my ears. I searched my pockets for my phone. The paramedic was trying to drag me to the ambulance but I wanted right now were the numbers. As I searched my pockets I realized I was wearing my school uniform. I was wearing a simple t-shirt and pants. Inside my pockets was nothing but the pocket watch. I clicked it open and trembled at the time. My stomach gurgled and the acid became poisonous, my insides black and dissolving. It was 6:03. That's not right. That would mean nine hours of my life just disappeared.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Six plus three is nine minus four is five.
.
.
The paramedics now had me in the ambulance now and as I looked around and took their tests, answer questions and breathed nothing but oxygen through some strange tube. I noticed that both the paramedics looked Asian and were speaking in perfect English but the writing on their equipment I could only think was Japanese. And as I looked closely and concentrated, I realized I can fucking understand something that I never have been able to accurately remember. Well fuck. Shit. Damn it. Gosh !
" excuse me ? sir ?' I asked the paramedic who was checking on the oxygen level in a tank. The ambulance tipped and swerved, nauseatingly. He turned to me with his full attention.
"yes? Are you feeling unwell? Is there anything that hurts in particular ?" I rubbed nervously at the pocket watch in my hand, the chain attached to my pants.
"No its just that…where am I ?" he looked me in the eyes as if trying to find something wrong. Dark brown eyes and hair weren't exactly intimidating but he was getting pretty close to creeping me out.
"You're in Tokyo, Japan. Sound familiar ?" oh sweet merciful heaven please have mercy on my benevolent soul for I just might die here and now. Oh god my parents are going to kill me. My dad is going to be all " How the fuck did you get to Japan ?" and my step-mother is totally going to shit bricks.
.
.
So I had come to the hospital, they asked me questions, checked about my story, where I'm from, where I live, and then told me it was basically bullshit and my life is a lie. Excuse me while I go count my tears. So now , after being checked up and rudely violated by a tube up my nose for a few hours, I'm leaving, off to an orphanage somewhere in the Kanto region. And as I make my way there in this police car, with nothing but the clothes on my back and my stop watch, I can't help but line up the numbers and lay them down to try and resist going to sleep and knocking my head against the window.
.
.
The woman in charge of the orphanage welcomed me with open arms. She was very friendly and pretty if I might add, dark brown eyes and high lights on the lower end of her long hair. Despite the time of night and heavy rain she seemed wide awake. I on the other hand was almost dying on the inside. It was currently 8:47. Eight plus four is twelve plus seven is nineteen. It's prime but my least favorite, mainly because I'm supposed to be going to college during that year of my age. The lady ushered me in and even invited the officer, flustered and confused he denied and set off to a call on his walkie-talkie thing.
She brought me in and guided me up the stairs to the third floor and showed me my room.
"You'll get along so well with all the children! A couple of teens with nasty manners live here but they don't bother anyone really. Tell me um…"
"Stephanie" I supplied. She gave a look of confusion and sounded out the foreign name.
"ste-pho-nee" I winced at the choppy pronunciation and so did she.
" you can just call me Hanna" it was close to my middle name, Anna. She smiled and brought her hands together in a silent clap.
"ah! Well Hanna, I wanted to ask you if you're a foreigner ?"
"Yes. I'm from America. The policemen told me the place and information I provided doesn't match up and apparently I don't exist in the U.S files" I said this sadly while glancing at the time.
9:00. Nine plus four is thirteen.
.
.
I had thought it weird when one day after attending a Japanese school and having many curious teens ask to touch my hair and run their fingers through the slightly rough strands ( who asked me if I was half or black or white or pretty much any question about my ethnicity. Of which I answered half black, half white.) I walked by a manga shop, backed up, pulled my skirt down from its path of riding up my slightly wide ( their pretty wide ok. But not in an unattractive way, I say) and made my way in to look around.
I looked at some familiar manga and looked around for a favorite of mine. I went to ask the store clerk who looked me up and down in my tan school uniform.
"Do you have the Death Note manga ?" he shook his head and recommended a different manga. I declined and made my way out the store. Then immediately ran into something hard. Me being in such a hurry to leave the store ended up toppling over whatever I ran into. I rubbed my head with the hand that wasn't clutching my book bag and propping me up. I looked down and met with two startled brown eyes.
" E-Excuse me ! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" I bowed in an apology which felt weird and I had to hold in the urge to stand straight. I felt like bowing was showing that I was of lower status, not as good as someone else.
"its fine yukimura-san. Are you an otaku by any chance ?" he chuckled and stood to his full height , which wasn't as tall as I'm used to, I still can't understand how short many of the people here are. He was my exact height and I had to ask him who he was. He is wearing my school uniform and looks familiar if only slightly.
"Do I um…know you ?" I said then looked at my trusty pocket watch. 4:15. Id be in a hurry but I can stop for a chat and be home by 4:40.
" we have second period together, yukimura-san. I'm light Yagami" he chuckled, good naturedly. Immediately I could feel the world suddenly shrink and my stomach lurch.
Four plus four is eight minus five is three. Okay. Four times one is four times five is twenty. Not good. Not good. My stomach bubbled and expanded, poisonous gas unsettling and trying to make it way upward. My vision went red and I could hear the buzzing.
"are you feeling well, yukimura-san ?" No. NO I am NOT okay. Are you serious? Are you fucking kidding me ?! I started to count , had to get the numbers to line up, lie down.
Everything tilted to the side and suddenly all I could see was numbers. Numbers. Numbers. A hand braced me, my legs wobbly and a horrible liquid burned my tongue.
"Hanna-chan ?" my adopted mother's voice rang out.
"Mom?" I could hear a quick discussion before being urged down the sidewalk .
2,3,5,7,11,13,17,19,23,29,31,37,41,43,47. Line up. Lie down. Get eaten by the spider. Be the fly. Face your death. Be injected with my stomach acid and watch as I suck out all your lies, pain, and pain then ebb into nothing but a dull gray and slowly oh so slowly…
…Disapear…