By the Winds of Chance
Sunlight streamed through the thin cloth curtains hanging despondently in her window. Yawning, she stood up and slouched to the bathroom. She winced as she opened her numb hand. The blade of the knife gleamed dully in the dim light. Turning on the faucet, she carefully rinsed the blade free of plaster. She pulled a worn cotton shirt from the towel rack and wiped the blade clean. Striding back into her room, she slid the knife back into its hiding place beneath some old clothes and boxes.
* * *
"Did I do it again?"
She looked up slowly from her bowl of cereal. "What do you remember this time, Father?"
"Not too much...I only remember that we were in the kitchen." He trailed off uncertainly. A look of comprehension suddenly crossed his face. "Were you hungry or something?"
"Something like that." She pushed her bowl away. "I have to go. You can finish my breakfast."
"Wait! I know I haven't been sending you to good schools all these years, but Sao...someone advised me otherwise. You can stay here awhile longer. Someone is going to pick you up for your first day at Eitoku."
"I don't need a car to get me there. I'm leaving now." Rising from her chair, she slung her black bag over her shoulder.
He dropped his head into his hands. Why can't I do anything right? I try, I really do, but it just makes things worse. Why do I even bother?
The girl hesitated at the front door. In a soft voice, she said, "Thank you, Father." Then she left.
* * *
She ambled along the sidewalk, stopping once in awhile to look up at the slowly brightening sky. Rubbing gently at the hollow of her neck, she tried not to think of the green bag that usually hung there.
As she approached the heavy gates leading up the walkway to the main building, she paused. What would Eitoku be like? When the people at the last school had turned against her, it had been only days before she started to skip classes again. Would it be the same thing here too? Would Eitoku be just another name to add to the list of schools that she'd dropped out of? Or would it break the pattern that she'd lived all her life- entering schools, skipping classes, leaving schools. Were the kids at Eitoku exactly the same as all the other ones she'd met before, the rich, spoiled brats with fancy convertibles, lots of cash, and expensive clothes? Or would she meet someone who could change the stereotype her mind had set up?
* * *
"Takashi Minami."
A boy with slightly mussed brown hair raised his hand. "Yo, I'm here."
"Midori Aihara."
She didn't move. Continuing to sketch hands in her notebook, she ignored the mindless chatter of the students around her.
"Aihara? Is Midori Aihara here?" The teacher looked up from his class list. "I need to know if you're here or not."
No one's hand went up. A boy in the corner looked up from where he'd been talking with his friends. He leaned over to the girl next to him, noticing that she wasn't paying attention. He tapped her gently.
"Come on, are you Midori Aihara? You're the only one who hasn't been called yet." He looked over her shoulder, trying to see what she was doing. There was nothing on the desk.
He turned to listen to what someone was saying to him. Then he spun back around to try and catch a glimpse of what she'd hid when he leaned over to her desk. A black bag came flying up from nowhere, hitting him square in the face.
"Ow! What was that for?" He pressed gently on the red marks on his face. "I wasn't going to molest you or anything. Calm down!"
She froze. Turning in her seat so her body was facing his, she whispered, "You asshole. You're just like all the rest. You live your whole life not knowing what it's really like."
"Well, it's better than being poor, right? I mean, who wouldn't rather live in a mansion with people who do everything for you?" He joked.
She looked up and faced him defiantly. "I would rather kill myself than live your life."
He didn't hear her or flinch at her harsh words, like everyone else did. All he felt was a chill race up his back...She was the girl from the bar.
Sunlight streamed through the thin cloth curtains hanging despondently in her window. Yawning, she stood up and slouched to the bathroom. She winced as she opened her numb hand. The blade of the knife gleamed dully in the dim light. Turning on the faucet, she carefully rinsed the blade free of plaster. She pulled a worn cotton shirt from the towel rack and wiped the blade clean. Striding back into her room, she slid the knife back into its hiding place beneath some old clothes and boxes.
* * *
"Did I do it again?"
She looked up slowly from her bowl of cereal. "What do you remember this time, Father?"
"Not too much...I only remember that we were in the kitchen." He trailed off uncertainly. A look of comprehension suddenly crossed his face. "Were you hungry or something?"
"Something like that." She pushed her bowl away. "I have to go. You can finish my breakfast."
"Wait! I know I haven't been sending you to good schools all these years, but Sao...someone advised me otherwise. You can stay here awhile longer. Someone is going to pick you up for your first day at Eitoku."
"I don't need a car to get me there. I'm leaving now." Rising from her chair, she slung her black bag over her shoulder.
He dropped his head into his hands. Why can't I do anything right? I try, I really do, but it just makes things worse. Why do I even bother?
The girl hesitated at the front door. In a soft voice, she said, "Thank you, Father." Then she left.
* * *
She ambled along the sidewalk, stopping once in awhile to look up at the slowly brightening sky. Rubbing gently at the hollow of her neck, she tried not to think of the green bag that usually hung there.
As she approached the heavy gates leading up the walkway to the main building, she paused. What would Eitoku be like? When the people at the last school had turned against her, it had been only days before she started to skip classes again. Would it be the same thing here too? Would Eitoku be just another name to add to the list of schools that she'd dropped out of? Or would it break the pattern that she'd lived all her life- entering schools, skipping classes, leaving schools. Were the kids at Eitoku exactly the same as all the other ones she'd met before, the rich, spoiled brats with fancy convertibles, lots of cash, and expensive clothes? Or would she meet someone who could change the stereotype her mind had set up?
* * *
"Takashi Minami."
A boy with slightly mussed brown hair raised his hand. "Yo, I'm here."
"Midori Aihara."
She didn't move. Continuing to sketch hands in her notebook, she ignored the mindless chatter of the students around her.
"Aihara? Is Midori Aihara here?" The teacher looked up from his class list. "I need to know if you're here or not."
No one's hand went up. A boy in the corner looked up from where he'd been talking with his friends. He leaned over to the girl next to him, noticing that she wasn't paying attention. He tapped her gently.
"Come on, are you Midori Aihara? You're the only one who hasn't been called yet." He looked over her shoulder, trying to see what she was doing. There was nothing on the desk.
He turned to listen to what someone was saying to him. Then he spun back around to try and catch a glimpse of what she'd hid when he leaned over to her desk. A black bag came flying up from nowhere, hitting him square in the face.
"Ow! What was that for?" He pressed gently on the red marks on his face. "I wasn't going to molest you or anything. Calm down!"
She froze. Turning in her seat so her body was facing his, she whispered, "You asshole. You're just like all the rest. You live your whole life not knowing what it's really like."
"Well, it's better than being poor, right? I mean, who wouldn't rather live in a mansion with people who do everything for you?" He joked.
She looked up and faced him defiantly. "I would rather kill myself than live your life."
He didn't hear her or flinch at her harsh words, like everyone else did. All he felt was a chill race up his back...She was the girl from the bar.