The white capsules looked so drastically pale compared to my olive fingers—a detail that didn`t really matter or have any meaning.
I just wanted to wipe myself out of this world and slip into another. It didn`t matter where, just anywhere but the present state I was born into.
The water was getting cold in the bathtub as I stared intently at the palm of my hand. I could feel the goose bumps on my naked skin as the temperature continued to drop in the already lukewarm water.
This is miserable. I thought, just end it.
On the side of the bathtub sat a small, rectangular razor blade—a plan B to assure me that if the pills took too long I could just tear into my forearms.
I listened to the silence, still and quiet with the rhythmic dripping from the faucet into the water. I held my breath for a moment, wondering how long I could stand sitting in a cold bathtub.
I didn`t trust myself. I knew there would be some hesitation at the eleventh hour, so I made myself some insurance. I knew it was a pretty petty thing to do, but I slipped a letter into a classmate`s locker that afternoon after everyone had gone home from their activities. In the letter was a brief message on what I had planned for the evening and an apology for the inconvenience.
As to whom the locker belonged to—I hadn`t realized... I just needed to know that if I didn`t go through with it, that if someone knew then I would be too embarrassed to show myself.
Maybe everyone will get a day off school.
I couldn`t even laugh silently at my own joke. I wasn`t funny.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hand to my mouth and parted my lips, and poured the pills into my mouth like a dump truck into a landfill.
It took me a moment, but I managed to choke down all of the capsules without too much hassle. Each one landed in my stomach like a rocket, silently awaiting departure into oblivion.
I sunk further into the water, waiting. For the longest time, I felt nothing and the water only continued to grow colder as I felt like my body heat was rising. I could feel blood rushing to my face.
It had been a few minutes, but I felt my heart beating hard and fast in my chest. Gravity took hold of me, and I couldn`t tell if I had slipped or willingly let go of the sides of the tub and allowed myself to collapse into the water as my heart started to ache in my chest. Every beat came faster than the last one, the tempo increasing rapidly and more painfully as the seconds passed.
I was gasping in the shallow water, panicking as the pain in my chest only increased and the blood rushed through my veins. I felt dizzy, nausea taking over. I wanted to climb out of the tub and vomit, but I wouldn`t make it. I could only thrash my arms, which were losing feeling. I felt scared, and began to feel regret as I realized what I had done.
I wanted to be held, more than anything by my father. I wanted my Dad.
But I still wanted to end my life. I wanted the shit to stop.
But I wanted my Dad.
I was being pulled into the center of the Earth, the sound of the water moving around in the tub as I struggled growing farther away. My stomach pain growing fuzzy and numbing steadily as I began to black out.
I began to care less, throwing in the towel and relaxing into the water, which was beginning to feel warm as my body overheated.
This was what I wanted. Sweet peace, relief from the shit hole life I had been placed in. My talentless, worthless body was going to decay and my soul would part this world and all the horrible things in it.
I let the warmth lull me to a peaceful slumber.
RENEGADE
My bones will bleach, my flesh will flee—so help my lifeless frame to breathe.
And God knows I`m not dying, but I bleed now.
THREE HOURS PRIOR TO DEATH
Clack.
What was probably the most horrid noise in the entire world filled my ears above all the other hustle and bustle of the shoppers who were partaking in winter feel-good shopping sprees. Business always picked up this time of year.
Clack.
I lifted my eyes from my sales per hour sheet and looked over across the walkway where the business manager for the Shiseido counter was tapping her long, debutant acrylics on the glass. My upper lip curled in disgust as I withdrew around the corner of the Lancôme counter so that I could start calling customers for our upcoming promotion.
I was always harassing customers from my clientele book for a promotion every other week. There was always something. A ten percent off all purchases, a free lash primer with mascara purchase, maybe even a full gift set depending on how much was spent at the counter.
I dialed nine and the first number under where I had left off from my calls the day before. I waited as the phone rang for what seemed to be forever before jumping to the machine, where I left an almost robotic message,
"Hello Tochigi-san. This is Fujikage, Masami, your Lancôme BA calling from your local Mitsukoshi department store. I`m leaving you a brief message to inform you about the upcoming event we`re having in cosmetics next Saturday. We`re taking a ten percent off of all our products for our preferred customers. This would be a great time to replenish your moisturizer and night serum. We also have a wonderful purchase with purchase right now including a full size eye-makeup remover and lash primer…"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Shiseido`s business manager round the corner of my counter and lean against the inner cabinets lining the counter I was seated at with my phone, a smug look plastered on her face. She was tall, skinny with a hardened stare—beady, black eyes that could not be softened despite how much eyeliner she rimmed her eyes with.
"…I look forward to seeing you at the event and wish you a Happy Holiday season."
I hung the phone up, clearing my throat as the old hag parted her lips, wrinkled from years of sucking on cigarettes, and started in on her critic of my touch base phone call.
"Did you mention that all cardholders will receive another ten percent at the event if they spend over sixteen hundred yen?"
I punched my associate number into the register to glance at my quota card, an attempt to distract the woman from my obvious hatred for her as it had been radiating from my face as she spoke.
"No, I didn`t." Was my reply as I glanced at my quota—my numbers were down.
"Well I suggest knowing all of your facts before you call clients. Haruka and I were talking yesterday about your numbers and we noticed that when you make your calls you always talk in this tone of voice…"
Haruka was the counter manager for Lancôme cosmetics. Although she was not nearly as bad as the business manager for Shiseida, she too could prove to be rather annoying at times when it came to my unreachable numbers. No one met their sales goal in the department. It just wasn`t realistic in the slightest.
The Hag opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped as she noticed a movement from around the counter. I watched her beady pupils observe the customer hovering over the lipstick display with curiosity in her eyes.
"You have a customer." Was all she uttered before taking the rectangular glasses from her eyes and letting them hand from the beaded chain around her neck as she turned and walked back to her counter. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the woman, and turned from my work station to address the woman interested in the lipsticks.
"Here I am! What can I help you with this evening?" I asked, reaching for the black vest draped over the consultation chair. I slipped it on over my dress clothes, zipping it up as I walked over to the display.
"I`ve been really into plum shades for the winter." She mused as she reached for a shimmery cranberry tone.
"Those are our long last formulas," I informed her, "Would you like to try some on?"
She looked over at me, dull brown eyes already accusing me of trying to con her into buying something. Most younger women gave me that look, as if I was personally out to get their money.
I was just trying to do my job; Which was to make the customer look beautiful by using the products at hand while providing friendly service.
Which was a lot to ask from a person like myself.
"Why don`t you take a seat?" I gestured to the counter`s chair—a bar stool looking type of chair with grey cushioning—the company name marked on the back rest with a tiny, rose emblem.
The woman seated herself as I reached for the skincare line first-specifically for the makeup remover so that I could start from the beginning. I preached about how important it is to take your makeup off before going to bed and et cetera. It was common knowledge that one shouldn`t wear a product for over twelve hours and not expect it to cause a break out.
Accompanied by a cotton round from the supply caddy, I removed the woman`s slightly worn makeup with tightly pursed lips, afraid to speak with Shiseido`s Business Manager standing over behind her counter, eavesdropping on my sale—ready to step in and show me how its done.
"I`m not planning on buying any foundation or skincare—I just wanted to try the lipstick." She countered as I reached for another brush to apply some blush to her cheekbones—which were high, her large brown eyes set atop of them filled with the suspicion that I would get my hopes up.
"Oh-No, that`s alright!" I laughed nervously, automatically feeling guilty for going through the selling procedures that I had been taught for every consultation. Skin care first and then makeup.
"I just figured I`d give you a little refresh, in case you were going out tonight or something." I lied, looking at her business casual attire. Her outfit was well put together, a black turtleneck tucked into a high-waisted, beige poodle skirt with a pair of red pumps. I noticed the lipstick she had chosen had resembled the wine red color of her shoes.
"Ha," She laughed at these words in a sardonic tone, bitterness enveloping her facial features. I cocked my head to the side, feigning concern. I didn`t really care. So maybe she was having guy trouble.
I was having life trouble. I would exchange life trouble for guy trouble any day.
"The last thing I`m thinking about is a man."
"Well, either way you`ll look good." I joked, forcing a smile on my face as I reached for the hygienic spray-which was really just pure alcohol-and doused the tester tube of lipstick with it before cleaning it off with a tissue. I then took the step of a q-tip and scraped the sanitized lip color onto it before using a clean brush to apply it to her lips.
She popped her jaw so that I could easily reach into the corners of her mouth with my brush, shading in her nude lips with a deep rouge color. I noticed that her eyes focused on the nametag attached to my vest.
"Your name is Fujikage?" She waited to ask until I had finished, laying the brush down so that I could clean it after the sale.
I nodded curtly as I placed the lipstick back onto the tray and turning to skip behind the counter and look for the same color in our inventory.
"My little brother is in your class. Kuwabara, Kazuma."
My fingers froze over the box labeled, "721 Cranberry Crush". Kuwabara. Kuwabara.
Memory recalled an incident where a young man in our class predicted the earthquake a couple months back. He had been hailed an every day hero in the hallways. Kuwabara, yeah, Kuwabara. He was a lot different than most of the other boys in our grade.
But there was another reason in particular that had made my heart stop altogether when she`d mentioned that. The lockers. Little cubby holes we were supposed to place our belongings and shoes in to change at the beginning and end of each school day. Little lockers labeled nice and neat with our names and numbers.
I had just realized who`s locker I had slipped my note into.
"Ah, yes, I know Kuwabara." I lied. I didn`t know Kuwabara, I knew of him—two completely different concepts.
You see, when I look at the people around me—I don`t think that I know them. And they do not know me either. We know of each other. To creatures living in the same territory. They know nothing about me and I know nothing about them.
Of course, I never bothered to know anything about them.
But for some reason people thought it was okay to make up stories about me, pretend they knew me. Everyone had a story.
No one had ever asked me for mine.
"How much for the lipstick, Fujikage?" She asked, admiring herself in the hand mirror set on the counter. The wine red color was very flattering on the older Kuwabara, but I was focusing on something else that seemed to be miles away from the makeup counter.
"Twenty-six hundred." I said slowly, coming out of the trance as I locked eyes with that of the beady eyed hag at the Shiseido counter. I broke eye contact, smiling back at Kuwabara hard enough to form new crinkles by my eyes.
"What is it made out of, gold?" She snorted, reaching into her purse and pulling out her wallet regardless of the price,
"Oh well, here," She handed me the money to make change for her and I stopped short, taking a minute for my brain to realize she was going to actually buy the lipstick.
Why is she buying it if it`s so expensive, I thought, could it be because she`s trying to butter me up for something?
"Is something wrong?" She asked, when I didn`t take the money from her open hand. I shook my head, gathering my thoughts. I smiled politely and made my way to my register with her payment. I made the change, printed her receipt and rounded the counter to talk to her about being added to my clientele book. I stopped on the way back to the front of the counter to grab a couple of freebies; sample sizes of our eye makeup-remover, a mini mascara. I placed them in the bag while I was standing in front of her, handing her the change and receipt afterwards.
"Thank you," I said out of habit before turning to my clipboard with my new client slips that were blank and waiting to be filled. Every time we added a new client to our books we received gratis points-not that it would really matter for me. I wouldn`t be using any of my stock-piled gratis this year-which was almost over anyway.
I wasn`t planning on being alive to see the year of nineteen ninety four, let alone the rest of December.
"Would you mind it I added you to the books, so we can remember what color you picked and call you for any discounts available?" I was so tired of speaking these words. I kept reminding myself that it would be the last time I would hear them coming out of my own mouth. Or anyone`s mouth, actually. Were there makeup counters in the af terlife? Did they care about keeping in touch with their clients, and would I even work at a makeup counter in the afterlife…?
"Sure."
"I`ll need you to write your name and phone number. I can fill out everything else for you." I handed her the board along with the pen, glancing at the business manager for Shiseido who was organizing the lipstick display. Their eye shadows glimmered under the lights of the store. Shiseido`s shadows were the best in the department and I couldn`t help but admire them every so often.
"There you are." She handed my clipboard back to me, "Just ask for Shizuru when you call. It`s just my brother and I at home right now, so it shouldn`t be a hassle."
"Alright," I caught myself before I made an ass out of myself by adding something stupid like, "Say hello to your brother for me!" Out of mock-politeness.
Yeah, Masami, why don`t you ask them to dinner while you`re at it, or invite them over to watch you kill yourself in your bathtub later? Sounds like a great time!
The board didn`t budge from her hand, and I looked up to meet her eyes staring down at me, narrowed as if she was suspicious of something. Maybe she thought I was trying to scam her for something.
"When should I expect to hear from you?" She asked, her voice noticeably quieter than it was. I could barely hear her words over the other customers and the music playing through the speakers in the store. I stared up with wide eyes at the girl, eyes darting back and forth over the bridge of her nose to focus in on one pupil at a time.
"Two days." I lied, looking past her as I lied. She knew I wasn`t going to be calling. She could read every secret in me, like a mother when a child lies about breaking an antique. I would not be alive to call her in two days for a follow up on the lipstick.
She stepped back, breaking the stare-down with me as she did so and adjusted her blouse.
"Two days, then." She nodded, tucking her wallet into her purse and carrying on out of the store as if the awkward moment hadn`t even happened.
I stood watching her retreating figure, wondering how she could tell.
Had I been radiating my loathing of life within the five minutes we`d exchanged words?
I looked over to the Shiseido counter and found the manager working with a client of her own. No one else had seen the exchange either.
I let the curiosity of the moment die, and turned back to retreat behind the counter, client add in hand.
…MINUTES AFTER THE MATTER
"Well, it looks like someone got a little lost on their way back to their body!"
The voice thundered from overhead. Though they were heavy, I lifted my eyelids and winced at the sudden colors and light as my eyes adjusted after what seemed to be months of darkness. I took in the image of a young girl. Bright, violet eyes stared back.
"Am I dead?" I asked, completely disoriented. It was strange what a few handfuls upon handfuls of pain killers could do to you. I took in the appearance of a girl in a bright pink kimono, floating in mid air on what appeared to be an oar.
The female laughed, her cotton candy ponytail bouncing up and down as she threw her head back to howl in delight.
"No, sweetie, well only for a moment. You really did a number on yourself—lucky for you the doctors will have you fixed up in a jiffy and you`ll be well on your way!"
...God damnit.
I shot up, sitting straight on what seemed to be… thin air.
"What-no! No, you have to stop them!" I screeched, staring down at the city below us, an orange sunrise in the distance. I thrashed my limbs, trying to get somewhere with the absence of a sturdy landing. I was too distracted to hear the gasp of breath from behind me.
"What are you saying? Don`t you know suicide is considered an offence in the Spirit World?"
I looked down to my hands, transparent and pale. I could see the city below through my fingers, street lights flickering out with the sudden natural light, workers returning to office buildings. The dull and unadventurous life I had tried to pry myself from.
If I were breathing, my breath would have been caught in my throat.
"Masami, shame on you!" She scolded, "Life is supposed to be a gift—"
I threw my transparent hands over my ears, but they did nothing to muffle the chirping of the woman behind me. Confrontation, though I hated it, seemed like a good idea for some reason.
"Yeah, well it didn`t feel like a gift!" I snapped, turning on her, "Who are you supposed to be anyway? Why is it any of your business, huh?"
The woman grinned from ear to ear,
"I thought you would never ask!"
She reached for my wrist, pulling me slowly down with her towards the building below us, chattering the whole while,
"My name is Botan and I am a messenger of the River Styx!"
"So I`m really dead. I really did it." I breathed, a real smile catching for a fleeting moment before Death itself shot me down.
"No, no you aren`t dead. You`ve just had a quick encounter with it. You`ll be back to feeling yourself in no time." Botan patted my hand in what I was sure she figured was a reassuring manner.
"Can`t you stop them?" I asked, yanking my arm from her. She looked up at me from the air below, as if I had punched her in the face.
"Oh my, you really did want to do it." The look of concern on her was nauseating. Yes, I had really wanted to kill myself. Who accidently intends on killing themselves and who accidently goes through with it?
A small book appeared in her hands as she floated upwards, to my level. She stuck her nose so far in the book that I began to become curious, peering over her shoulder. Words blurred as she rapidly flipped to a blank page, pulling a pen from thin air as well.
"I`m afraid I`m going to have to document this as an actual offense. It`s a warning really, since you aren`t completely dead yet, but it is going on your record."
"Would you mind telling me why the hell I`m not dead?" I snapped on her, raising my voice—which is rare in my case. I was used to staying quiet, unnoticed.
I watched Botan`s face contort in a strange expression. Her eyebrows knit together and she bit down on her lip momentarily before spewing the beans on me,
"You were found."
"How? My parents should still be at work now!" I argued, as if that would make a difference in the events that had already passed.
"You weren`t found by your parents," Botan reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to a hospital window. Her arm extended—I looked to the glass pane and stared back at the woman from the counter I had seen earlier that day.
Shizuru Kuwabara stood on the opposite side of the glass, staring at me as if she could see me. Her arms crossed, face contorted into a look of disappointment and relief at the same time.
"Come on, we need to get you back to your body."
I let Botan push me through the wall of the building, my eyes locked with my client from earlier that day as if we were old rivals in middle school meeting on the street for the first time in years but too estranged to speak to each other.
"It`s time, Masami," Botan beckoned me from behind the doors of the ER where my body was lying on a cot, surrounded by the hospital staff.
I looked at myself through the small windows on the double doors. I was pale, the olive color in my skin had disappeared. The doctors were trying to pump my stomach, waiting for me to awaken and spit out the remaining pills. My eyes were not closed, more so rolled into the back of my head in a trance.
Hands pressed against my shoulder blades, and I lost my footing though I was still floating mid-air. I was pulled forward by a force, flung into the body that was lying on the stretcher.
The light came to me as if I had traveled through a long tunnel. Light and then unbearable pain, I was gasping for air and spewing into a bag before I knew what was going on. Sighs of relief echoed through the emergency room.
And on the other side of those double doors was Shizuru Kuwabara`s retreating image for the second time that day.