UH YEA HERE YOU GO. TELL ME IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT OR HOW I COULD IMPROVE. OR NOT. I'M NOT THE GOVERNMENT.
Step one, wake up. Step two, roll out of bed onto the floor. Step three, groan in agony because, shit, that hurt. A human head, gravity, and wooden floors are never a good combination. Step four, get up from the floor because what are you? five? No, you're sixteen. You're practically an adult for gods sake! That was dumb even to say in your head. Adults hate getting up from bed too, not just teens. All the adults you know would have probably done the same thing you just did.
Cold, small feet shuffled on the freezing wooden floors from the bed to the door. You left your window open last night, which is never a good thing to do in such a horrible winter. The door squeaked open with your shaky hand pushing it. On the other side of the door was slightly warmer carpet. Your shoulders loosen up and you let out a breath into the crisp, dull, air.
Making your way into the bathroom, you splash water on your face and looked into the mirror. You stared into the reflection. Bags under your eyes from horrible sleeping habits and acne from your poor diet covered your damaged face.
Grey.
Boring and dull, washed out and tired. You felt grey. Your skin was dry and irritated from the harsh winter air. Maybe investing in moisturizer would be a good idea for your future. Work and school have drained you and its only January first. You didn't even bother with a new years resolution this year.
You continued your morning routine. Changing into 'school appropriate' clothing as well. You pick each leg up that felt like a thousand pounds until you reached the kitchen. A cup of tea will warm your soul, it always felt like it softened your bones. Your mom walks in while you fill and turn on the kettle.
"I have to go into work early, do you mind taking the bus?" She walked through the kitchen in a rush. Her face was tired and worn out as well. She still remained your beautiful mother though. Her hair brown hair was put up into a bun, a few grey curls framing her face. It was a messy style, not 'styled' enough to look fashionable. A woman that no one who didn't know her wouldn't call pretty. She, like many in your family, suffered from a permanent bitch face. She was skinny, but still had fat in places that younger people wouldn't. Sagging and thin skin and age spots covering her battered body.
You still complimented her everyday. She was beautiful in a way that isn't advertised on T.V. or magazines. "Yea. Have a good day at work. Love you." She was already out the door once you said 'yea'. You'll stop by her work later after school and make sure her day is going well, maybe bring her lunch, then you can actually compliment her. She knows you love her even if you didn't, but you wanted to make sure she loved her self.
The kettle screams. You grab a tea bag and put it into a to-go cup, pouring the steaming water along with it. Grabbing your backpack with one hand and your tea in the other, you leave your dated home. It hasn't been renovated since the eighties. At least, thats what your mom says.
The wind hits you in the face, it stings. Maybe you should have grabbed a jacket. Not a sweat jacket, you already have that, an actual jacket. You know, one ment for the winter? It doesn't matter, you never get colds anyways. Fuck you biology. This is how natural selection works. You go to the end of your street, two other students already await for the bus. You stand by them, sipping your tea. They looked friendly. But small talk was never your thing, there is always another day. You can talk to them another time. You still have two more years of highschool to get through, time is kind of on your side.
You hear your teacher talk, but you don't listen. Everything is like white noise. Your eyelids half-closed and your head resting in your hand like almost every other student. You never liked history class. Science and math, those where your strong points. You wanted to become an engineer. You didn't know why, but it seemed like a respectable thing to do. It would make your mom proud.
A student next to you passed you a note.
You raised an eyebrow and opened it underneath your desk.
Oh.
They want to go on a date with you.
You glance at the student from the corner of your eye and gave a small, kind, smile. They were cute. Short black afro, tall, brown eyes. But then again, you could never really call anyone ugly. You mouthed a 'sure'.
Their face lit up, you wrote on the paper your phone number and email. Lately, no one has been able to use their phones. They just... haven't been working. But you put your number down just in case. You scribbled, 'lets talk after class' and handed it to them. They threw you a wink, you can't believe it, but you blushed. You yourself had low self-esteem. Maybe it was your complexion or poor communication skills that cause most of the issues, but you try not to think about it. You were surprised to be asked out, but hanging out with an attractive person is something that is impossible to turn down. Your heart was racing even though you were trying to play it cool. It sank in after they turn their attention back to the teacher. You have a date. You felt fuzzy and giddy. But you always push those types of emotions down so they're not visible.
In school at least. You're a complete dork with somethings.
You thought or a moment.
They're name. What was it again? Hao? Hani? Shit. Shit. Think!
They're name was...Oh. It was Happy. You remember it now, you remember when they introduced themselves earlier last year. How adorable.
You looked down at the desk and smiled again slightly. This day isn't that bad. Back to reality, you need to try and focus on what the teacher is saying, you have a test next class.
Screaming.
People jumped from their desks, you looked side to side frantically, what the hell? What is everyone doing? You noticed what they where looking at. The window. In the far distance was an explosion. You didn't noticed the floor shaking at first, it was the adrenaline shooting through your body that caused a numb feeling.
"We're in a time of peace!" You think, sweat dropping from your forehead. The teacher is ushering everyone to calm down, to stop screaming. 'Everyone just stop fucking screaming! Just stop!' He was screaming.
The floor shook. Another bomb.
You were frozen, still sitting in your desk. You looked at Happy. Their hands were covering their face. You reached over and put your hand on their shoulder. You said, 'It's okay' right above the screaming. Just loud enough for them to hear. They didn't respond, they were probably in shock. You take off your jacket and put it over their shoulders and head.
Another explosion.
You wanted to stay with Happy. You didn't know anyone else in the class. But you wanted to help in anyway you could. You search through the sea of crying and screaming students and find your teacher. He stopped yelling at the students to stop screaming. He was young. A full head of blonde hair, perfect skin, bright blue eyes. He was the teacher that was known for always helping students. But in a time of panic, you guess anyone can be an asshole. You touch his shoulder. Your face trying to remain as cool and collected as possible. "Sir?" You try and talk above the screaming. "Are you okay? Can I help?"
He was surprised at the question from student, "I should be asking you that," He tried to smile, but panic was clear on his face. "Kinsley, I think we all should pray, even if you don't believe, just...humor me." He was close to sobbing. This is...sad. You looked up to him, he always seemed so confident and secure. You could trust him with anything. But you could never talk to him after class or ask any question, you were always too scared.
"Of course, sir." You bow your head as another two students come along. You all hold hands. You were iffy on religion. But if it could make others feel safe, then why not.
Another bomb dropped.
You'll admit it. You were scared.
You don't know where you are. You see grey. Not black, but grey. You feel nothing. You can't even feel nothing. The mere concept of nothing isn't there. Even nothing is there. This gives you a headache if you could feel.
You go to open you mouth, but you can't. You don't have a month. You don't have a body. Yet you're still existing. A noise comes through.
"Who is this one...-I hate names. I don't understand half of them." You feel something, a presence maybe. The voice comes through more and more clear with each word. "Okay, let's get this over with..."
You falling and an extreme speed.
You have a body.
The light is so bright.
You can feel the grass between you toes.
You look at your hands, no lead marks or pen marks. No scars or...anything. It's like they're brand new. Your vision is blurry, but you assume it's because of your new eyes.
A figure stands in front of you, no matter how much you looked at it, they couldn't describe it. You open your mouth, this time it exists. "What's going-"
"You're dead, friend." The creature says, "So many people are dead! My job is so hectic right now! You wouldnt believe it, you would think that beyond the grave paperwork wouldn't exist." It speaks so fast, you could barely keep up. You're...dead? No way. No way. No. This can't be happening.
"I mean, technically you're not dead yet, boss says I need to stop saying that. You're just going to be...idle for a while. I should slow down, shouldn't I? I've always hated the concept of time. How about you just...ask me questions and I answer them, then after that I'll tell you everything I haven't said yet."
A breeze passes through, your hair moving in front of your face. Your heart rate is slow, oddly you can't seem to panic. You take a breath. Just take things one step at a time. You can do that.
"...how am I dead?" You ask as calmly as possible.
"The roof of your school caved in, instantly killing you."
That isn't the answer you were looking for. To be honest, you don't know what kind of answer you were looking for. You wanted to frown, but you couldn't will yourself.
"Where am I?"
"Where aren't you?"
You roll your eyes, what an asshole. If someone asks you to asks them questions, at least answer them. You fold your arms and take another breath, something you somehow keep forgetting to do. But then again, it doesn't really matter if you stop breathing here, does it? You shake your head, thats not what you should be thinking about."What's going to happen to me?"
"You're going to be sent to another dimension, like many of people who died with you. You will take on a life of one of my place holders. Then live until the age you were supposed to die."
"Then what?"
"If I tell you, that would take away the point of you living."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Don't sass me."
"What am I, your kid? I'll sass who ever I want."
"No. Stop it right now."
"Can I punch you?"
"No!"
"I'm going to punch you."
"Don't you dare. I am a-" You take a step back with your fresh legs and jumped to the creature, one elbow back, ready to punch the creature where its head should be. Right before your fist collided with its face, it was gone. Your eyes widened and you topple over, the wind knocked out of you. "We're making no progress."
"Because you're being an asshole! Let me punch you!" You get back up immediately and turned around, aiming again for the creatures face.
You punch the air again, the creature appearing behind you. "Stop. Question time is done. Let me explain what you need to know."
What else do you need to know? You have to live again, without your mom and friends. Without your home and-don't think about that stuff. It will just bring you down. Think about the positives.
"One, You will remember everything, but you will never be able to talk about these current events." It says, you are forced to stare while it talks.
"Two, Your body will be the same as it was, but in a healthier state." You noticed this already. You want to complain, but you cannot open your mouth. You guess you pissed this thing off.
"Three, You cannot let events pass by you, or else they will be forced upon you. These are similar events that were supposed to happen in your first chance." You really don't like the sound of that. You feel like you're going to be a prisoner in your own life.
If anything, you're left with more questions. But you still cannot open your mouth.
Everything turns to a washed out grey and you begin to fall once again. The creatures stays where it was talking as you fall down through the dirt and rock, you feel each and every worm and bug and until it fades out. You begin to wonder if you actually felt anything or you just thought you should.
You're on a bed. You wonder if any of that actually happened for a moment. But then you look down at your hands. There's markings, almost looking like scars. But not what you had before you 'died' or when you were given a new body.
Your birthday and your death date.
07/01/1998 to 03/01/2015
It's on your inner left wrist and barely visible. Your fingers from your other hand ghosted over it. It was real. You died. You looked left and right. The room you were in was amazing. Fancy would be an understatement. There was a card on the night stand. You grabbed it while still sitting on 'your' bed.
"Happy birthday Rowan,
We're glad to welcome you to our family, me and your father had to go to America for a business trip. We can't believe we haven't even been able to spend a full day with you since we adopted you, but duty calls. We hope you feel right at home. The maids are down stairs, they will cook you anything and answer any of your questions.
Make us proud as our new heir.
Proudly bear the name Rowan Kurosawa.
04/04/2015"
You have a new first and last name. Weird. You feel...like you shouldn't be here. You run a hand through your hair. It was clean, like you took a shower last night or something. You hesitantly put your feet on the cold, oak floor. You guess somethings will never change. It was comforting.
Once you open the door you get a feel for how big this place really is. Its...way to much for one family. You walk down the hallway and down the stairs cautiously. The stairs are made of marble and a thin sheet a red carpet goes down the center, like the hallway. A maid catches you when you are in the middle of the stairway.
"Master Rowan, good morning! Would you like me to show you to the dining room?" You are taken back by being called master, thats something you only hear in porn-not that you watch that kind of stuff. Regardless, you answer.
"Uh, yea. Sure."
"Great, follow me please." She smiled while she talked. You do as you says and follow the maid. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Once you enter the archway into the dining room, you try and hold back a gasp. Why would anyone need this much room? "U-uh, just eggs and toast please."
"And to drink?"
"Any kind of tea."
She pulled a chair out and motion for you to sit. You do as such "Before I tell the chief, I have to ask what school uniform you would like me to order. A male uniform or a female? I'm sorry, but I dont, uh-"
"A male uniform please. When do I start school?" You can get used to to this type of treatment.
"Tomorrow, at eight a.m."
Wow, your really being thrown right into it. Well, what can you do.
"After I eat, can I leave the house?"
"Of course young master, you don't need to ask. Do you want me to get a limo and clothing prepared?"
"Just the clothing please."
"Of course. Please remember to bring your phone."
Then she left. You guess phones work here. You're assuming you're in Japan. After-oh gosh. You can speak Japanese now. You didn't even realise it. You said, 'Holy fuck' out loud but in English. You're trilingual now. Congratulations.
You scarfed down your food immediately when it was placed on the table. You try and not to think about anything to avoid a mental break down. Then you went upstairs and changed. You brush your teeth and wash your face again, at least you have your basic routine still. Well, slightly.
With the rest of the day to spare, you just want to be alone. You don't want anyone to talk to you. You just want to breath fresh air, you don't want to take it for granted again.
SHOULD I CHANGE THE POINT OF VIEW OR ARE YOU NERDS CHILL WITH 2ND PERSON
