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Go!

I whizzed out from behind our bushes, sprinting as fast as I could towards the creaky gate. Palms slamming against the wood, I cringed, then crouched into the small shadow of the house, panting. The front door was still hanging slightly ajar, and I waited, my heart beating like African drums. Nothing happened. I waited; and I waited. Still nothing happened. Squinting, I craned my neck slightly outwards, wondering if I was wrong, when suddenly Father (or so my guardian insisted I call him) strode out slowly, a briefcase clenched tightly in his hand. He walked slowly to the shiny black car parked on the curb, and I held my breath, waiting for him to walk to the other side and open the door.

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Pushing off my toes, I made a beeline for the doorway, hoping that the shrubs shielding our front lawn were enough to block out my fleeting form. Squeezing in through the tiny crack, I staggered with a gasp into the house, frantically looking for a place to hide. I saw Fucker's (my variation of the name "Father") jacket thrown carelessly on top of the shoe shelf, and allowed myself a brief elation, knowing that I had been right. At the same time, I knew he was going to come back for his jacket, and I quickly sobered, remembering that there was no time to waste. Springing up the stairs two steps at a time, I entered the upstairs hall, shooting wild, crazed glances all around me. Terribly paranoid that he was going to come up and find me, I flattened myself against the wall, feeling like an idiot, but a tiny bit safer, nevertheless. But I couldn't stay here, of course. Heart booming, I took several deep breaths, trying to gather my thoughts.

Fawn's room?

No, not a good idea. Though I knew she wouldn't say anything if Father-- no, excuse me, Fucker-- came to find me, I hated how she always had the knowing look in her weird, bland eyes. Never mind that I didn't want to come in contact with anyone at the moment even someone as non-living as Fawn was. Sighing softly, I thought of her petite, delicate features. She was a pretty girl, but so dead.

But there was no time to think of such things at the moment. Focusing once more on the task at hand, I edged painfully towards the right, eyeing the shut bathroom door immediately by my hand. I could always go in there...

No, that was a bad idea too.

Before I noticed it, I was smack right in front of my guardian's door, and my hand-- stupid, over-enthusiastic thing that it was-- started to turn the knob. Kicking myself inwardly, I jumped away as if I was stung, eyes wide at what I'd almost done. Panting from excitement, I slapped a hand to my chest, desperately trying to quell the urges of terror that racked my being. I had almost opened Father's door. I had almost entered his room.

It was taboo to enter Father's room.

And very suddenly, I was tempted to do it. The very thing that he had absolutely forbidden us to do since the first day I entered this house-- now seemed awfully appealing. "Idiot!" my mind cried. But I didn't care.

Inching myself forward at a horribly slow pace, I placed a sweaty hand on the gleaming brass doorknob. I heard the first creak, then watched, in absolute horror, as the knob slowly turned. "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it... " my thoughts kept screaming.

There was a sudden clunk from downstairs. He was back.

"Shit!"

In the impulsive jolt of my surprise, my grasp slipped, and the door swung open, groaning. Hissing at it to be quiet, my heart started up like a marching army, and, no longer bothering with "silent stealth" I sprang up and ran, as quickly as I could, to the closed door of my room. Wrenching it open loudly (while swearing all the while) I rushed inside, shutting it as quietly behind me as I could in my haste. Click. I winced.

My horrible, dry gasps for air were too loud. Slamming my fingers over my mouth, I looked all around me, wondering where it was I could hide-- and not be caught. For a brief moment, I considered slipping underneath the covers and pretending I was asleep, but just as suddenly the thought disappeared and I realized how crazy the idea was. The whole point was so that he wouldn't know I was at home. That meant ducking under the table wouldn't work either.

"The closet!"

My eyes saw it just as I thought of the possibility. Running over with a strangled cry, I pulled open the sliding wooden door and proceeded to stuff myself, as well as I could, behind my hanging jackets and skirts. Kicking at the underwear and shirts thrown carelessly on the ground, I placed my feet onto the red carpet, frantically trying to squeeze myself into the flattest person I could be. All of a sudden I cursed the fact that I hadn't gone shopping more often, with all the money that Fucker left lying around. But then again, if I even took a cent of his money, he'd probably scream at me so hard I would go deaf.

I yawned. Running around for five hours made my bones ache, and my mind conjured up the idea of a nice, relaxing nap, here among the soft, warm clothes...

"Snap out of it!" I hissed to myself, forcibly digging my nails into my arm. Now wasn't the time to sleep. Part whimper, part growl emanated from my throat, and I sat bolt upright, willing my tired eyes to stare at the light seeping through the hinges. Stifling another yawn, I started to mutter softly to myself, hoping that would keep me awake.

"I've already slept," I protested to myself, even though I knew that closing one's eyes for a maximum of ten minutes was no nap. "I don't need any more sleep." That was a lie. Having nothing else to say, I resorted to criticizing myself.

"I'm such an idiot. I'm not even who I think I am. I'm Kagura. And Fucker is Naraku. That's insane. And if my guess is right, Fawn is probably that freakish Kanna." I paused, my pointless ramblings dying off. "I'm so fucked."

I yawned again. My eyes started watering. Rubbing at them hastily, I rolled up an old sweater and placed it against my lower back, leaning on the stiff pillow slightly. I opened my mouth, planning to say something, but nothing came out. A strange sort of music started playing in my head, and though I couldn't name it, it was annoying and familiar and it refused to go away...

---

I woke up with a gasp. A rush of relief filled me as my nose met the rough wood of my closet. Standing up with a barely repressed groan, I kicked at the crumpled jeans that had somehow made their way over my neck, and groped for the edge of the closet. I started to pull, softly at first, but when the door didn't budge, I tensed, and tugged harder. Nothing happened.

"What the hell... ?"

I had no idea what was going on. A familiar tightening was happening up in my chest, a horrible claustrophobic feeling, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Maybe I was still tired, and I wasn't pulling as hard as I thought. Or better yet, maybe I was dreaming. Cracking my knuckles, I decided to try again, and gripped my fingers against the edge. I dragged...

and heard a sickening crack.

My eyes widened in horror as I saw the split in the coarse wood, several sharp splinters poking out. Backing away slowly, my heart pounded wildly in my ears, and I clenched my hands together, praying that it wasn't what I thought. Just then, an eerily smiling face appeared in the space between the wall and the door.

He was saying something, but I couldn't hear it. All I could think about was getting out. I couldn't breathe.

I was going to suffocate.