APOV:
Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
Breathe Me, Sia
Books have taught me many things, as they do. As such, books are so curious, so perceptive. Some portray another lifestyle; others tell you how to do things. A few are incredibly useless but to others it may be the exact thing they need. That's the thing about books – they can wait. Wait to be rediscovered, staying to be found.
Humans on the other hand, we cannot wait. We must have, must possess what we desire as fast as possible. Humans are weak, greedy, and are driven by the want factor. If they want money, they go to work. If they want an item of clothing, they buy it. If they want something exactly the way they want it to be, they will make it so. If we don't get what we want, we will find a way to do so. Why? Simply because we want it.
As human as I am, I am also driven by want. I wanted to wake up. But here's the thing – I couldn't. To say this was odd was an understatement. It was ridiculous and bordering on the edge of impossible. I knew that I had woken up earlier, so I couldn't be dead. I wanted to have full control over my body but I didn't have it. What had happened that had made me lose the will of my own body – my own vessel to reality?
I didn't know much, but I had a hunch.
Tsukasa Amakawa – the curse of my life.
He may have given me the doorway to reality, and I respected him for that. He may have been my best friend for most of my life, and I remember that. But when you give someone a gift such as freedom and then try to take it away from them with an unhealthy amount of stubbornness and determination...that's when I draw the line. In fact, I should have drawn the line a long time ago. He had crossed it, destroyed it, obliterated the line into little dead-line-dust. And it was all his fault.
The first time I saw him in the world was in New York. I was busking on a street corner with an old guitar, releasing my magic into the busy streets when I caught a glimpse of his platinum blonde hair and a navy blue suit. I packed up and greeted him with a smile, that wasn't returned. It was strained and false, pasted all over his face like plaster.
"I'm taking you back to your Life House."
The second those forsaken words fell from his mouth, I had to jump back to avoid his left hand from grabbing my wrist in a death grip. Ducking and dodging through the busy streets of New York, filled with people who couldn't care less about an abduction being performed in front of their very eyes. That day I escaped, realising that even though I had escaped my own prison, making my own life wasn't the right thing to do. Making a name for myself was impossible. Even though the world was mine to walk freely, I couldn't afford to let the world see me as I am. I had to change my image, corrupt the person that I was to hide myself from the world that was so new to me. I couldn't risk an education, I couldn't risk telling someone who I really was. Not when I could lose it all.
I was only twelve – in need of parental supervision and a home. Social Services were a pain in the ass, always saying that I was in 'denial' and that 'I needed an adult role model.' I call bullshit – I know more than any adult, been through more than any adult. The one time I was caught was in Mexico. I had to leave immediately since they told Tsukasa where I was. I hadn't even eaten a taco yet. Or a burrito. I wasn't picky, but damn I wanted one.
If he wanted to help me, he should have just left me to die in my Life House. As much as I loved my freedom, if he was going to tear it away from me once I had it, I would rather die never knowing how it felt. That's how freedom is – once you have it, you're broken without it.
And now look what Tsukasa has done to me. Before I met him, I was isolated in a house with anything I wanted. A proverbial paradise, laced with innocence. Now I had the bitter taste of defeat churning in my stomach, broken bones, lacking the knowledge of how to control my own body and a dead father.
After all that, who wouldn't be thankful?
x.x.x.x.x
The darkness began to shift, spin and splinter into many different pieces – the same in every single way imaginable but so different that I would slap anyone that said that they were identical. I stared, dazed at the shifting pieces until I realised that I had control over my vision. I blinked and a smile crept over my face.
Tsukasa Amakawa, you haven't won yet...
The room was a mess. Literally. It was almost like a typhoon had smashed into a variety of OP Shop's and variety stores and dumped them in seemingly casual places. After observing my surroundings, I realised that the whole room was quite old – apart from all the machines by my side. I reached my hand out and pulled a magic carpet off a television screen to see my heartbeat monitored. Surely enough, there was a monitoring clip on my index finger. The bed I had been sleeping on was from a hospital – the metal bars and stench of chemicals proved it. I yanked off the finger clip and threw it across the room, hearing it drag several other objects down to the ground.
But even though I should've felt overwhelmed by my surroundings, I wasn't. It felt like I had missed something important, vital. I heard a small ding from another room, but shrugged it off. My blanket... something had changed. My bandaged chest was cold, freezing to the touch from the icy stale air.
But, despite all that, I had butterflies in my chest. Fluttering around, spreading like wildfire, and scorching my insides.
A noise to my left snapped me out of my stupor, and I swear that a freaking Cinderella reincarnate sat up from another hospital bed and stared at me. Her doe-like eyes met my plain yellow ones. I expected her to smile or something, but instead she just raised an eyebrow.
"How do you feel?" she asked in her soft voice. I expected her to sound generally concerned for me, the recently conscious human in the room, but her voice gave away that she really didn't give a shit. She probably wanted to be watching television or something – not speak to a runaway. Shit, she would probably think I was some type of peasant!
"Like shit." I replied, peering down under the blankets. I even looked like shit – well more like a bloody carcass that even a starving lion wouldn't dare to eat, fearing infection and death. So I guess I looked more like dead shit. I almost smirked, Just one of my many charms...
The side of her lip twitched upwards, before she forced it down again. "That tends to happen when you have been in a medically induced comatose for over a month."
"W-what?"
She looked at me funny, like I had some food on my face. "Yeah, a forced coma. Basically you were in a forced sleep for ages while a dripping bag fed you food and painkillers through an IV."
I was shocked. He might have actually won. To prevent a silence from falling down upon us, I said the first thing that came to my mind: "Did it taste like chicken?"
She was silent for a few seconds until a small tinkly laugh erupted from her mouth. She clamped her hand over her small mouth and calmed down before she continued. "I haven't tried it myself, but since most things do so I guess that's a safe assumption. It's more of a nutrition chemical."
"Nutrition chemicals taste like chicken? Who would have guessed..." I mused aloud. I chuckled once to myself before a razor blade of pain sliced through my chest. I gasped aloud, and was about to clutch my stomach when she slapped my hands away, suddenly at my side.
"Your wound opened. It was time for a bandage change anyway. Hands off, let the pro do her job..." she muttered, swatting my interfering hands far away from my chest. She gently forced me into an upright position. "Now do me a favour and look at the unicorn on the roof. It was taken from a Merry-Go-Round seven years ago."
I looked up. Surely there it was, just like she had said but hornless. It was a dark violet with a bright white saddle with black lining– most people would call the violet a dark blue but I knew better. "That's a horse. Unicorns have a hor-" I began, but was unable to continue. I could feel some sort of wet liquid on my chest, lightly warming me up. Then I felt a soft peeling sensation, like a layer of skin was being removed similarly to butter on a knife. Shortly after that, my chest was being bound again. I couldn't help but think about it. Layers and layers of bandage, holding my body together. I was so fragile at this present moment, so weak.
"There." she muttered, announcing the completion of my temporary skin. She was smirking, taking pride in her work. It was done really neatly, almost artistically. I would be proud too, if I had done it so well. "If you weren't drugged up on painkillers now, it would have felt like I just skinned you, then decided against it and forced the skin back on you."
"Huh. Thanks...um..."
"Mashiro. Rima Mashiro" she said, sitting cross-legged on the end of my bed. I moved my feet to give her more space.
"Amu Hinamori." I replied, feeling strange saying my own name out loud. I hadn't said those two words in over five years. It didn't even feel like my own anymore – for such a long time I had just thought of cool names and made fake ID's for them. I owned over seventy, with vastly different faces for each. It was amazing what a little bit of makeup and hair dye could do.
"Amu...that's a really original name. I like it." Rima said, smiling at me. From not caring a bit, she had grown almost like a friend to me in a matter of minutes. It was strange how human nature was like that, but somehow instead of critising it, I...liked it. It was strange, not hating my humanity.
"Rhymes, poetry, antelope. Your name can mean many things, and each one is beautiful. I have no idea what mine is supposed to mean but I bet its something weird like 'I am you' or something." I murmured, shyly returning the smile.
She laughed again, her cheeks tinting red from laughing too much. "Yeah, and I bet Mashiro means something along the lines of marshmallow." Rima looked at me for a second, before smiling sadly. "You don't know why you're here, do you?"
I paused, before thinking my answer through. "I have an idea." That idea being a deluded ex-friend took me here after catapulting me into a missile-proof wall. Its these type of things that I never forget.
"But you don't have the knowledge. Just an idea, nothing more." Rima began to look at her nails without interest – almost as if she was shy. "You're in Seiyo Academy, Amu. The most prestigious school in all of Japan, and debatably, all of Asia. In a critical state, Tsukasa Amakawa took you to Takumi Yamashima – an illegal doctor that owed him a favour. He lived in Canberra, and – long story short – he illegally patched you up, induced you into a coma and illegally transferred you to Japan." she paused to catch her breath, before continuing. "Oh yeah, you broke your rib and it punctured your chest, ripping a large-ass hole in it. Good times, huh?"
"Highlight of my life." I joked, trying to keep the mood light. I should have been afraid, shocked, terrified, but something kept me from going insane and crying my eyes out. At least I didn't need to fake my visa again. "So, who's Takumi?"
"My father." she said, without hesitation. "Tsukasa is the principal of Seiyo, and Takumi sometimes does a favour for him in trade for cash and other things. In trade for something, Tsukasa gave me a position in Seiyo – there are only thirty available, so its top shit for me to actually get in. I was pulled out of classes to keep you, as Tsukasa put it, 'alive'. Which is fair enough, since you looked like you got hit by a truck or something."
"Getting hit by a truck might have been the better option." I mumbled, more to myself. Rima looked at me with concern in her eyes, but I brushed her gaze away. "What do I get to look forward to once I'm better?"
She grinned. By all means it should have looked angelic, but it looked purely evil. "When that happens, you need to haul your ass back to class."
"E-Excuse me?"
"That's right." Rima pulled a note out of her pocket, unfolding it and smoothing the crinkles out before turning my bedside lamp on. Only then did she give the note to me.
"These have been transferred through the school. It's on every wall, every tree and every post in the school." Rima chuckled. "You're going to piss a lot of people off – and you haven't even begun."
I, Tsukasa Amakawa, hereby declare Rule #665 invalid, and will be changed.
A new student has been enrolled into Class Nine: Euphoria.
This student is the only exception to this rule.
I apologise for any unpleasant emotions that I have caused.
Any students that try to physically/emotionally hurt will face severe consequences, and possibly expulsion.
For all questions, see me at my office on Tuesday at 7pm.
I will be holding a meeting specifically concerning Rule #665.
Au Revoir.
Tsukasa Amakawa
Rima stared at me with intense orbs. I cleared my throat uncomfortably and slightly shifted my sitting position. "So...Seiyo has a lot of rules, huh."
She snorted and ran her fingers through her thick golden mane. "You don't know half of it. Rule #665 is the last one in the book, so chances are that he's going to make new rules to maintain your safety in the school."
"I don't need safety. I'm perfectly fine on my own." I shot back. In Germany, I was almost mugged in an alley by seven thugs – each one armed with a pipe. During the day I was busking, so they must have seen how much money had been put in my guitar case and wanted some of the cash for themselves. That was when I discovered that I could fight; I could prevail even in the darkest of scenarios. I would survive no matter what, because a Hinamori never gives up.
"Not in that condition." Rima stared down my determined eyes with flaming topazes. I almost felt afraid. "Any sudden movements with that big-ass hole in your chest would rip it further. Injured people can't go around being all macho."
"Its not that bad..." I feebly protested, but I knew that I had been beaten. I changed the subject to other things. "Why would people want to hurt me? I'm just some girl who rocked up to the party late."
"You have no idea how prestigious Seiyo really is, do you?" Rima said, not to anyone in particular.
I chuckled to myself. "It's world-widely famous. So what?"
"Yeah, but what it's famous for is the big part. Seiyo is basically renowned for being the most messed up, strict school that has ever been invented. It's like Alice in Wonderland – that's how much sense some things make." Rima breathed out and then began in a choppy tone, as if she had talked about it so many times before, but no one had listened to her.
"There are dormitories, even though it's technically not a boarding school, Rule #78 states that each student and teacher has to live on campus. For your whole schooling, you are not allowed out unless your parents take you on the holidays – which almost everyone does. Apart from then, don't expect to see outer life. Each year level must have exactly thirty students – fifteen of each gender and all born in the same year. You can only become a student at the start of year seven. Any other time and its technically illegal. Your application will be denied. Each year level is given a word that they're called. For example, I'm in Euphoria – Year Nine. Tsukasa says that each person in your year level is your family. There are no punishments, so that if there is a quarrel you will get over it as a family – even though counselling is an option, no one takes it due to the fact that for two hours a week you would be seeing more sock puppets than you would in that session than your entire life.
"Then there are the stupid rules, like how you must eat burritos on Wednesday. We have a scheduled food plan, every one eats the same thing – teachers and Tsukasa included. You have the option to drop base subjects, but the rules state that you must attend all base subjects until the end of your schooling. I've forgotten a few important things and some stupid ones, but I guess you'll eventually figure them all out. The only cool thing is that Rule #36 states that you must make your own uniform."
"Own...uniform...?" I mumbled, head spinning from the information overload. Like hell I was going to remember all that. I always knew that Tsukasa was fucked up in the head, but this school, this supposedly famous creation of his was disgusting. It was like he had total control over the petty, the crucial and everything in between – and who the hell makes over six hundred and sixty rules anyway?
"I hope you're creative. You must design your own uniform for Summer – you can do the winter one when it's closer. The rules are that it must be something that you won't regret later in schooling, but looks like a school uniform. Also, it has to incorporate the colour black – our chosen year level colour." Rima gave me a notepad and a whole bunch of coloured pencils. "Now hurry up and draw – Maria's coming down here in an hour to make whatever you come up with."
I didn't want to draw my uniform, no matter how fun the activity sounded. I wanted to leave this famous prison of a school. Rima had basically said that this place was a living cage for students and I wanted no part of it. But I was injured and she looked so persuasive and I wanted to be her friend so I drew the first thing that came to my head.
x.x.x.x.x
The girl in my drawing was awesome. No, I'm lying. She was fucking epic, and slightly resembled me, which I liked quite a lot more than I should have.
Chibi-Me wore a white shirt with a red tie with a black V-neck jumper over it, and had pulled out the tie out loosely like the awesome rebel she was. The short red plaid skirt had chains hanging from one side, and she wore matching leg warmers to the skirt. A red armband had been loosely pinned to the right arm of her jumper and she wore fingerless black gloves with black painted nails. She wore black runners that looked a lot like Converse sneakers – I hadn't decided yet since the leg warmers covered them quite a bit. Chibi-Me was also holding a pair of drum sticks, but I guess I would just have to acquire those myself.
Rima was spending her time reading a Gag-Manga when the door opened to reveal a small girl. She had raven black hair and watery violet eyes. I just wanted to hug her and give her anything in the world – she was just so freaking cute!
Raven-haired-girl walked over to my bed, stood on a chair and looked at my awesome sketch. She then nodded to herself even though my drawing of amazing deserved more than a brief nod. Rima cleared her throat to catch my attention.
"Amu, this is Maria. She would introduce herself but is much too shy to attempt the task, let alone think about trying. She's in Euphoria and is a complete professional at making clothes." Rima stated before diving back into her book.
Maria studied me with watchful eyes and then spoke so softly I was almost unaware that she had spoken at all. "Someone visited here today. Not myself, her or you, but someone else. A fourth party. This place isn't safe."
Rima shot up, mouth gaping. "No way. It must have happened while I was sleeping, as humans do. Shit, if someone finds her..." she trailed off, precaution lacing every word.
"Hide her in my dorm." Maria resolved. "No one ever visits me and it's in plain sight – no one would suspect it."
"In the closet?"
"My thoughts exactly."
"And this way we can make her uniform faster, right?"
"That is correct."
Rima blew out a huge breath and jumped up. "Alrighty. Let's take a risk and move her tonight – Tsukasa's flyer says that there's a meeting on at his office about Amu, so everyone in school should be there - knowing how prejudiced they can be. Its the perfect moment to strike, right under their noses too!"
Maria nodded, raven hair swaying. "I do like striking..."
"Hey! Do I even get a choice in this decision?" I piped up, being silent for too long.
Both girls glared at me with no mercy. Malice was only present in their eyes. "No." Rima growled. "It's my job to keep you safe, so too bad. Besides...I have a feeling things are just starting to get interesting."
Even though I hated to admit it, Rima was right. I had the same feeling and until my stomach healed, I wasn't going anywhere. I just had to go with the flow and hope for the best, because up there, above ground, there was a very fancy school full of enraged students, all hating me for unwillingly entering their silly little world where they could only eat burritos on Wednesday and school counsellors have an unhealthy obsession with sock puppets.
They can have their silly little world all to their spoilt little selves, because all I wanted to do was walk freely in the world, accompanied by life's greatest gift – the gift I didn't possess at this current time.
Freedom.
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