The Bitter One
Two
Another ditch in the road
keep moving
another stop sign
you keep moving on
and the years go by so fast
silent fortress built to last
wonder how I ever made it…
So I won't sugar coat it, I'll skip ahead a few weeks, to where it gets interesting in my life.
For one, I had a lot more nights where I ate out. Kentucky fried, McDonalds, Burger King and Starbucks. You name it, I ate there. Thanks to my amazing metabolism, I managed to stay the scrawny stick that I had always been. Not even a bit of meat. Great, huh? If I was a stick insect it would be great.
I was walking through the main park; Toto Park, eating the chicken that I had just bought with my minimal savings when I noticed ruffling in the nearby rubbish bin.
I sat at a table, nibbling on chips when something clawed at my school skirt. Without thinking I pushed it off, hearing a horrible 'mew' from the side. I looked around and moaned inwardly. I had even hurt a cat.
It was probably no older than four weeks and was scrawny, skinny and an ugly grey colour. It looked up at me with its amazing blue eyes, and, upon making sure no-one was around, I slipped it the skin of my chicken. It downed it quickly and started to purr madly.
I gave it my finished chicken bone and knew I would be its friend forever. I knew this when it rubbed up against me and followed me as I tried to go home. As it turned out, I dropped a chip and ran for my life. I had decided already to call him Lou.
Mother was out as I got home and I had a shower and went to bed quickly. The moon was high in the sky, and I knew it was close to midnight as I fell asleep.
I didn't dream. I don't do dreams.
They are a vision of what you want in your subconscious, really. Well, mine are anyway. I always hate them, and I have to admit, they always tell me what I want.
I dreamt of my father once, us as a happy family, how we had used to be. Sometimes I dreamt of living without mum and the pleasures that came with that. It would be no more screaming, no more ignorance and I would be free.
I hated my dreams because they told me, and I would always secretly admit it, about the things I really wanted. Oh, and get this, really. You'll love it.
I never dreamt of Haku. I haven't for years.
I got up the next morning quickly, slipping on my clothes before heading down to see if I could scrounge up a breakfast. Perhaps there were some Cheerios left.
What I didn't expect to see was a man.
He stood at the counter, the steaming kettle in his hands, pouring two cups of coffee out. Obviously, one was for him and the other for my mother. He looked up and smiled at me, his lips stretching across his face. I scowled in reply.
"Who the hell are you?" My voice was raspy and my throat was sore.
"Nam," He replied quickly. I stayed at the doorway, sending him daggers. He never faltered, however, and continued to speak. "I'm your mother's boyfriend."
I always thought she was much too frigid to have a boyfriend, and I must admit, the thought that she could possibly marry again scared me. I hoped, by that time, I was a million miles away from her. It was bad enough having one father and one mother, I couldn't handle another one. And what if he had children?
I hated children. I decided that I never wanted any. Sniveling brats, whining toddlers, I hated all of them with a passion.
I decided that the sooner that this 'relationship' ended, the better it would be for me. Yes, I was thinking of myself, but when was the last time that my mother thought of me. And, I am not being dramatic, as you can see. And I knew when my mother pushed past me to go into the kitchen, ramming me into a wall and kissed Nam on the cheek.
I got out of there quickly and jumped on the tram to school. It jumped off and headed into the large surrounding gates.
As usual, I was snubbed as I walked through the school, straight to English, my first class.
And, as usual, I was sent out. This time it was before I even entered the class room. I went straight to the English head teacher, who gave me a lecture about being in year ten and performing to my highest. Oh, yes, how would I ever get anywhere if the stupid English teacher didn't have any patience with 'cases' like mine?
I was a case, a sickness in the head. My head worked perfectly. I could think and move. Last math lesson, I knew the answer to the square root of minus one. It was an imaginary number. It was a surd, an irrational number, like pi. Nothing hard; but, with 'cases' like mine I'm not even asked.
From the English staff room I was sent to the principal's office. He wasn't there, as usual and the lady at the office handed me five dollars to run up the street and get her a can of cola.
Though you could get cola from the canteen just down the hall, I knew what she meant by 'up the street', so, I took the bus up, showing my consent to the driver.
I spent first and second period down the street, sipping on a milkshake, showing my written consent to anyone that questioned me.
I looked over the real estate, wondering if there were any places that were empty in my budget. Considering I could only afford a few dollars a day, there wasn't much. I pondered getting a job, but the prices of the flats would leave me no choice but to leave school. Then what? What could I do without that? I would be cleaning the floors of the department stores for the rest of my life. It didn't seem worth it.
I jumped back onto the bus and got off on the last stop- the stop for school.
The rest of the day progressed smoothly, only that I realized that I had little for lunch. I was hungry by the end and stopped at Burger King on the way home. I hope the heart-attack-waiting-to-happen that I ordered would help be pack on a little more weight. I was sorely mistaken and was still the stick that I had always been the next morning.
I slinked past my mother and took the keys to our letter box. It was Wednesday and everyday we got the mail. Today was my turn to check it.
I got into the lift and could only hear the agitating lift music that constantly played, not only in the lift, but in my head, hours later.
And so, I got down to the letter box, near the lobby office, where Rei, the assistant smiled at me. She was one of my few acquaintances. She smiled and I managed one back, slipping the key into the hole and turning it slightly.
I gathered the few letters that were in the mail into my arms and walked back to the lift, which, was miraculously still waiting for me. I went through the mail when the doors closed, leaving only me in the small room.
There was three for mum, bills, subscriptions she had to magazines and so on. Then, I widened my eyes. For once, out of all the times I had gotten mail, there was actually one addressed to me. I didn't even scowl when I heard the horrible ring to my name in my head.
I ripped it open, so quickly however, that I didn't really bother about the paper inside. It small, thin, glossy and smooth paper that changed my life forever.
There, in my now shaking hands lay a cheque. Addressed to me, of all people. My eyes traveled down to the amount.
To: Chihiro Ogino
To the amount of: ten thousand and ninety three dollars exactly.
$10,093
Account number: 6792-998
Ch. Number: 13455
From: Larsten Overall
Bank Branch: Green Tree United Banks
I almost fainted in the lift.
I'm going to try and update this once every one or two weeks, just to let you all know. I have to set myself a precedent otherwise it may never get done.
One or two weeks, one or two weeks!
Disclaimer- I do not Own Spirited Away. I also don't own the song 'Two Beds and A Coffee Machine" By Savage Garden. All rights go to respective owners.
Regards to the reviewers:
XxGaaraxXxLovexX: Thanks for your support, hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Mizaka: Hope no more!
Amerius: Thanks for your review. Yes, those girls are rather mean, but Heidi is a good character. The others, not so much.
Review please.