I walked up to the house, my new house, the house that I was going to be living in with my over-protective, stuck up bitch mom and my techno-geek brother. Carrying my black messenger bag, that held my black iBook, several manga books, my iPod touch, my cell phone, my glasses, needed for distance, a drawing pad, and pencils, I stepped through the doorway, into my new home, that reeked of mothballs, old-grandmother perfume, and old, dirty laundry. It was a wonder that there was still wallpaper on the walls, that wasn't peeling or wilting away.
I slowly made my way past all of the boxes and to the stairs, I wanted to choose the room with a view of the sunset and with an easy access to the roof. Every step creaked, almost as if it was a haunted house, when I stepped on it. Pulling the hood of my black sweatshirt over my head and my black baseball hat, I started up the stairs, sulking because I have to live in a place like this. Once I finished climbing the steps I looked left, right, ahead of me, and behind me.
There was a hole in the floor so when you looked down you could see everyone on the bottom floor and they could see you. In front of me there are two doors. Even though they were facing east, I looked inside of them. I found the source of the mothball smell and immediately removed myself from that bedroom. The room next to it was a pink bathroom. There was no way I was taking that. Turning to my right I was now facing south. There was only one door on this side. I walked towards it and opened it carefully, remembering what had happened before.
Once the door was completely opened and I had made sure that it didn't smell that horrible, I entered and figured that this was the master bedroom. I was definitely not going to take this room, it was too cheerful and pink for my now-usual mood. Walking out, I walked back around past the mothball room, holding my breath, and to the room on the north, saving the west for last.
Walking to the north side, I noticed that there are three doors on this side. Entering the first one, I saw that it held the air conditioning and heating units. The next room was the bedroom, which almost suited my personality, but there was no way I was going to sleep next to the air conditioning and heating units. The last room was the bathroom, but I just glanced in that room before moving on to the final room on the west side of the house.
Looking at the door, I slowly gripped the black handle that was attached to the ebony door, that I now noticed, had an interesting design carved into it. Twisting the handle I opened the door, relived to know that the handle didn't make any noise when it was being opened. I slowly walked into the room. At first there was an almost narrow hallway, with a door, the same as the first one on the right side of the hallway. Opening it, I stepped into the bathroom that was simple and semi-dark. Then stepping out of the bathroom, I turned and moved down the short hallway again, the light from the open door letting me see the path. I reached the end of the short hallway and stopped at the sight of another door in front of me. It was exactly the same as the other two, but this one seemed more interesting, as if the designs were more thought out. The petals on the wilting flower had more intricate edges and the outer design seemed more of a gothic design almost like one of the doors you would find on a door of a church in Spain. I guess that was to be expected.
My mom already had a lot of money, but then she got even more from the divorce, and before my dad could change his will, he was killed by a gang, even though they say it was in a car accident I know it was by a gang, but my mom made money off of his death. And then decided she wanted to move out of an apartment, put my brother and I in boarding school, and get a gigantic house that could probably be called a mansion, even though it only has two floors.
I put my hand on the handle and knew instantly that the room was for me. Don't ask me how or why, but it just felt perfect. The suspension was killing me, I have to know what it looks like. I entered the room and looked around, the room was gigantic, definitely bigger then the master bed room. Also this was the only room with furniture in it. There was a black bed right in the middle. The bed itself was a piece of art, or gothic art. The black metal of the bed was made into intricate designs that showed the amazing ness of the artwork. It was a canopy bed, but there weren't any curtains surrounding it, except they were attached to the side, but it fit the bed. Over the bed was a skylight, through which you could see the moon and stars. On either side of the bed there were windows that would shed light, except there were heavy black curtains hanging over them.
I decided then that it would be easier to see if I turned on the light. Reaching over, I found the light switch on the wall to my right. Flipping it on, I was surprised to see the light being shed from a black chandelier that hung at the top of the ceiling. I was surprised to look at the intensity of the design on it. Even from far away I could see the details quite well, even the ones that weren't that noticeable. To get a better look, I pulled out my plastic, black-rimmed glasses, pulling them over my eyes, I gasped at the technique that had to have been put into that. It looked as if it would take forever to draw, let alone, to totally create it.
Keeping my glasses on I looked around the rest of the room. There was a black desk off to the right that had another design on it, that drew my breath away. Finally peeling my eyes away from it, I looked to the right of the room and noticed a black couch that was right in the corner, also next to a window. Farther down I noticed a drawing and painting area set up. There were empty and full canvases on stands and off stands. There were paints capped and uncapped, paintbrushes clean and unclean, charcoal colorful and black, used and unused, and pencils colored and black, used and unused.
This was amazing. Was I dreaming this room was perfect for me. I don't know who lived in here before me, but they must have been a true-artist, although, most likely a gothic one, but that didn't bother me at all. I guess it was because I'm becoming more and more like a goth everyday. Then noticing the doors that must be the entrance to the closet, I walked to them and opened them. The clothes from the person that lived here before me were still there. They were amazing, some of the clothes that totally suited my new style. Shutting the doors, I took a deep breath and opened them again. The clothes were still there, that meant I wasn't dreaming or imagining anything. The only thing that bothered me was why it was still in this room. The last person who owned this house moved out and there was no one living with her at the time because her son died a while back.
Walking to the desk, I pulled out the black ebony chair and sat down. I pulled out my laptop and turned it on. While it was logging on and loading all of the programs, I started to search through the drawers. They were all empty, except some of them contained art supplies and some of the most expensive drawing paper. But in the last drawer I found a black book, with an intricate design of wilting flowers and falling raindrops or teardrops. Opening the book to the first page, it read: "The Diary of Kyo Franchise."
A diary, I slowly put the book down and shut it. Leaving it on the desk, while pulling my hands away I thought, I can't read a diary. No matter whose diary it is, although I would like to find our more about the person that stayed in this room. They have the same exact interests as me and we probably would've been friends. From the name I know that the person that once lived in this room was a guy. Oh, that' s right my mom said that the lady who used to live her had a son, but he killed himself, and that was why she moved. I wonder why she didn't tae any of his things.
I was thrown out of my world of thought when I heard my mom yelling my name from downstairs over and over again.
I walked out of the room and yelled, "What do you want, Mother?!"
"I have your things and I was hoping to show you your room." She said.
As I was walking down the steps, I heard my mom squeal as if she had just seen the newest designer dress in Nemain Marcus and it was in her size. "Darling, your uniforms are here and they are just adorable." She said holding up my new uniform, so that I could see it.
I winced. The uniform colors were okay. The colors weren't like pink or anything, so that was good. But the uniform itself was a little too girly, I guess you could say in that sort of sense. The uniform consisted of a black, pleated skirt, a white, long-sleeved shirt, a black, collared jacket that goes on top of the shirt, and knee-length, white socks that have a wavy, black line going across the top, around one millimeter away from the top of it.
"The Student Handbook says that you can wear any shoes you want with it." My mom said.
I gave her a look that, well, let's just say, if looks could kill she'd be dead right now. I snatched the uniform from her hands, grabbed the extra that she had gotten me, and grabbed my other two bags, that consist mostly of books, art instruments, and artwork that I've created over the last couple of months. Moving back up the steps, as quickly as possible, I remembered that my mom said that she wanted to show me my new room.
I yelled down to her, "Oh, and mother, I already found a room, so there's no need to show me mine anymore."
Reaching my room, I pulled open the door and entered, shutting and locking it behind me, I threw my new uniform on the ground outside my bathroom and walked past to the next door. Walking through the black cloth that was beyond the second door I put my bags on the ground carefully. Remembering the fact that I had forgotten the box that contained my weaponry collection downstairs, I almost ran back down the stairs, but stopped myself before my brother and mom saw me being to active. Slowing down to a casual walk, I grabbed the box and moved back up the steps, tantalizingly slow. So slow that my mom yelled at me to walk faster. Not replying to her yell, I continued to walk up the stairs at my usual pace.
Reaching the top of the steps, I shifted the box and heard some of the weapons clank together. Hurrying back to my room, I pushed the door shut behind me with my foot. Putting the box down on my bed, I opened it and started to pull out the different kunai and shuriken. One of the first ones that I pulled out was tainted with dried blood. It was my blood. I stared at it, feeling the temptation of feeling the almost sweet pain again. But I stopped myself. Looking at it and feeling the urge of temptation to cut myself, make myself bleed, to see the blood, and to taste it, was almost to much, you could practically hear the millions of thoughts running through my head.
No, don't do it, T don't have any reason too. Think about it, is it really worth it, what if my mom finds out? But she was the one who almost totally made me start doing it. Ugh, this is so hard. My thoughts were interrupted by my mom yelling at me from downstairs.
"Darlings, I'm going out tonight with some friends. I'll be home later. There's some food in the fridge and don't wait up. I don't know what time I'll be back." I heard the door slam behind her as she left.
With those words I sunk the blade into the skin of my arm, feeling the pain overwhelm me and take my mind off of everything else.