You are incredibly happy.
Your lazy smile rouses some strange looks from the students around you, as does your strange face makeup, but you don't care. You are happy and life is great and perfect and wonderful and you don't have to think about IT.
The rainbow lights that gather at the corners of your eyes are practically intoxicating. But as quickly as you can turn your head to try and catch one full on, it is always faster, always slips away. But that doesn't faze you. Because nothing could possibly break this mood. Nothing.
The girl in front of you has her hair twisted into a tight, beautiful braid. How does she even do that? you wonder slowly. The few hairs that have escaped the complex knots wave at you jovially. Your smile widens and you wave back before tentatively reaching out and cradling her braid in your hand. It's so beautiful, and when you squint the rainbow lights that were so evasive before slide up and down the braid. You can almost hear a faint laughter from them as they blink in and out of sight. You stroke the beautiful brunette hair and close your eyes, listening to the rainbows as they flutter by for what seems like an eternity.
You hear a shriek from somewhere far, far away and you wonder dully what they could possibly find wrong with this beautiful day. This rainbow, miracle day. The shriek is followed by a slight pain, but the pain is far away too. Your body is far away and your mind is flying and–
–the pain intensifies suddenly, present and horrible, a stinging on your cheek. Your eyes fly open, anger flashing up violently and wiping away your smile, dissolving the happiness that had obscured IT. But now IT reasserts itself, and you feel yourself spiraling down and down, irreversibly.
The braid is no longer in your hands, and the girl in front of you is facing you, protectively stroking it and screaming at you. Screaming, screaming, and none of the words matter because there is a roaring in your ears that drowns them out. A smile stretches your lips, but this one is not happy. It is not lazy or jovial. IT is menacing. IT speaks of unfathomable anger. And the light in your eyes speaks not of the rainbow lights that only you can see. IT speaks of a wild, terrifying desire to hurt
kill
and maim
kill
and injure until the screams of pain and fear
of death
rise to a dangerous frenzy and you laugh maniacally while hacking away and their screams are music to your ears.
She is shrieking again, but there aren't any words this time. Her eyes are filled with terror
beautiful terror
as she slowly seems to split into three of herself, each tinted a different color, three lovely, crying images of the same girl. Your hand curls slowly
feed on it
so slowly
give in
into a fist and
kill her
you strike out at her. The three images duck, and you stumble forward, a pain from miles away registers hours later as originating from your bruised knees as you fall.
don't let
You hear the sound of quick, pattery footsteps
her get
but you are too distracted to particularly notice it
away
as a bug crawls between your hands and the anger and IT slip away as quickly as they came, your eyes following the six legs' frantic movements with utter fascination.
You hear the sound of a footsteps coming to your right. You manage to tear your eyes away from the bug long enough to realize you are on the ceiling. You straighten up, raising your hands above your head and waving them back and forth slightly, letting them dangle. The menace in your smile is completely gone, replaced by the carefree happiness that had adorned your face previously.
A very small teacher appears from around the corner, out of breath, then proceeds toward you. They don't seem to get any closer, although their labored breathing does get louder. And two words. "Mr. Makara."
Mister Makara.
Mikter Masara
Kister Mamara
Mamakastamarazka.
Smile.
You wave at them from your upside-down world, laughing at their funny red face.
They grab your wrist, and suddenly you are no longer upside-down, only right-side-up and confined by the small, fat, red-faced teacher. They coax you to your feet as an immense and heavy veil of sadness creeps over your soul like a pestilence, a disease. Dragging you down and down. The teacher guides you forward, but you balk unpredictably as the floor in front of you crumbles away, leaving a gaping, whispering abyss. You whimper, but your smile remains, a strange disconnect of feelings consuming you as the happiness sneaks back in to live simultaneously with the despair.
The teacher grows impatient, dragging you down the hallway and impossibly over the black hole. A strange green liquid seems to boil and froth at the base of the chasm, and an overwhelming desire to leap into the pit and drown yourself in the substance causes your step to falter once more. The teacher does not stop, only gripping your wrist tighter. Irritation slips in between the cracks the barely separate the already clamoring happiness and despair, filling you up with too many feelings.
Time seems to skip and you stand in front of a door. The teacher is strangely slanted, seeming to melt and ooze. Your gaze focuses in on a point just to the left of his ear. A faint click is followed by a creaking and your hand is passed off. Your feet shuffle onward in a daze, your eyes following the elusive rainbow lights once more. Out of the corner of your eye you can vaguely see a mass of black and grey, tall and willowy. Black sparkling lights seem to dance around the thing, but you don't pay them any mind.
Your hand is gently pressed against a wall, and you sink down unquestioningly. The colors of the room smear together, olive top-smear and grey and red bottom-smear and two dark squares. And as a door opens in the corner, a strange off-white joins the puddle of colors.
You smile.