Riko got home from school, and closed the door.
"Hello?"
No answer. This made sense, as Keita had track until six, Ako wasn't getting home until seven due to student council issues, and Riko's parents were at work.
Riko glanced at the clock. 4:30.
Disappointing.
Riko set down her backpack and trudged into her room, locking the door behind her. She flopped down onto her bed and sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"I wish Keita were here."
But Keita was not, and Riko sobbed as she reached under her bed and pulled out a knife. She sat there for a couple minutes, silently sobbing as she gazed at her twisted reflection in the blade.
There I am. In all my nothingness.
Today had been an especially bad day for Riko, because of what had happened to Riko in the classroom. She had stayed there for the rest of the day, not bothering to eat lunch, not bothering to go to class, simply locking the door and wailing in an empty desk. And nobody came to disturb her, and she disturbed nobody. And now, she figured, she needed punishment, and she needed to forget. Punish heer disturbance of Keita, of the class, of her mind. Forget her worthlessness, her mistakes, her loss.
Punishment. Of course.
Riko's hand shook as she rolled up her sleeve, exposing the five parallel lines that were herpast incisions. As she stared at them, she got a frightening sense of nostalgia and sadness, crashing over her like a tidal wave.
I don't have anything.
Riko touched the knife to the edge of a scar. She slowly raked the knife across her wrist, peeling off the skin, drawing blood, relishing the pain.
I'm nothing.
She quickly attacked the next scar, crying and weeping in pain and sorrow, weeping for her fantasies of Keita that she knew were just that; fantasies.
Delusions of grandeur.
Beads of sweat popped up on her face as she sliced again. And again.
I'm worthless.
And again.
I don't mean anything.
And again.
I have nothing.
She sliced and cried, forming her own torture, her punishment for having nothing. She had forgotten about forgetting, realizing that cutting was her way of escape and that it was the only thing that mattered. Only the knife and her blood mattered, and she continued trying to make them matter more, tying to forget about how worthless she was.
Nothing.
A cut.
Nothing but my blood.
A cut.
She had made around twenty cuts by this point, most of them in the same spot, but still she sliced, her hand shaking so badly that sometimes she would slash air, frantically going back and forth in her journey to cause pain.
No.
Riko's eyes flashed as she suddenly plunged the knife into her palm, drawing a fresh spurt of blood that spilled onto her school uniform and caused her to clench her hand instinctively. Riko sobbed again, and forcefully opened her hand again, carving out a broken heart around the fountain of blood.
I can't have Keita.
The knife fell from Riko's hand as she relinquished it, curling up into the fetal position and screaming, screaming until her throat would surely erode from anguish, from depression.
Let it. I don't care.
For so long, Riko had been seeking Keita's love, hoping to marry him, to be his lover forever. What a grand illusion it had all been! If Keita loved her, he would have chosen her by now! But he had just skirted around her, choosing to be with that bimbo teacher instead of her.
And why shouldn't he? She has way more assets than I do.
Riko was rolling around her bed now, getting specks of blood all over the sheet, uncaring. She stopped, gazing at her body in the mirror she hung in her room. Her eyes instantly went to all the imperfections she knew Keita would hate: her small breasts, her freckled cheeks, her askew hair.
Her eyes of insanity.
No!
Riko screamed again as she picked up the knife and ran into the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wild, her uniform covered in blood.
Fuck the uniform.
"It was me! Wasn't it? Wasn't it?"
Riko stared into the mirror, expecting an answer from her weeping reflection. But her reflection had the same answer she had, and this just threw her father down the pit of insanity.
"No! It was! It was!"
Riko did even know what was her, but it must have been her fault. Her own worthlessness must have caused it. And therefore she knew it was her, but the mirror kept taunting her, not giving her an answer, leaving her to doubt her own answer, but it was her, it must have been, it must-
No!
In one fluid movement, Riko ripped off the band-aid on her cheek, ripping it into shreds and throwing them all into the sink. Her scar shone dully, finally seeing the light of day at last.
"I thought I could get Keita? I thought that with a band-aid I could get Keita? I'm a fucking idiot, aren't I?"
Riko cackled as she brought up the knife and slashed at the scar, reopening the cut and causing blood to cascade down her cheek.
"It was me! Wasn't it?"
Another slash, this one deeper than the last.
"Wasn't it?!"
Another slash.
"Wasn't it?!"
Riko almost collapsed, dropping the knife and steadying herself on the bathroom counter. Her hair was in her eyes, and she made no effort to brush it out.
I need to die.
It was obvious, Riko figured. The world needed to be rid of her worthlessness, and she was sure nobody would care. Her parents were never around, Keita had a girlfriend, and Ako wold just be happy that there was one less 'competitor' for Keita.
Riko bent down and picked up the knife. She set it gently onto the counter, and then took the top of her school uniform off, leaving her in her blue bra and bloody skirt.
I look ugly.
As she was taking her bra off, a door opened downstairs, and shut. "Riko? I'm home!"
Keita.
Riko hurriedly tossed her bra onto the counter, wanting to get her suicide done before Keita could stop it and preserve her uselessness. But she could hear him coming up the stairs even as she positioned the knife over her heart, below her breast.
"Keita, don't come in here! I'm in the bathroom."
Silence. Then, "Riko? Are you okay?"
Riko shut her eyes, and steeled herself. "Keita?"
She heard his pace quicken. "Riko? Don't move!"
"Keita, I love you. I always have."
Riko heard footsteps in the doorway, and spun to see Keita in the doorway, staring at her. She must have looked awful, blood everywhere, topless, her hair every which way.
Keita gasped, and leaped at her. "Riko! NO!"
Riko smiled, and closed her eyes. "I'm not worthless anymore."
And the blade plunged into her heart, sending a spray of blood and tears everywhere.
In her last moments, Riko stared at Keita, his eyes leaking emotion, his mouth moving soundlessly. He bent own beside her and picked her up, running out the door, but Riko knew that it was too late.
But she didn't mind.
I did it. I'm not worthless.
I did something right.
Keita was starting to fade, a sea of red and black crawling in from the corners of her vision.
Not a bad last sight.
Good luck, Keita.
Goodbye...
