Chapter one: Sorrow in the heart
'The sorrow in my heart is so great that it almost crushes me.' Mark 14: 34
The girl walked along the streets of Tokyo, her dangerously thin frame hidden under a baggy coat, making her look almost… normal…
If it weren't for her eyes…
Her once ruby eyes were a dull, almost maroon, colour…
Eyes that were once filled with determination, excitement and confidence now held the total opposite to those emotions… sadness… despair…
Her self-esteem had fallen deeper than the bowels of the earth and it had melted in the intense heat.
But this girl hadn't given up. Why, you ask? No one knows… not even the girl herself… she wanders like a lost soul in the fields of Asphodel (1).
But this day, she has a destination. She was going to see her friends… the ones she had shouted at only a day ago… she wanted to apologise for shouting, since it was the normal and civilised thing to do. And she was both, according to her.
And to me, she was both. To others, she was both. But to you, I am not sure. Some cannot accept others for their disabilities, race, desires, nationality and disorders, so how am I to be sure that you accept this lost soul?
As she neared the house of one of her friends, a small flicker of a smile was etched onto her face; but as soon as it came, it was gone. The lights of the house shone through the dankness of the approaching night like a beacon shines through the fog of an approaching ship… warning the girl to stay away…
But she did not…
She stepped onto the walkway carefully and made her way quietly to the main sliding door… but she stopped… for inside, she heard voices…
"… don't know, Max." One voice said. "She may be… I dunno to be sure."
She saw a shadow hug another through the thin, paper-like material.
"But I'm worried about her, Ray." The one called Max replied. "She's never acted or looked like this before. Hilary would never do this!"
"And how would you know?" Another voice interrogated; the girl, whom they called Hilary, flinched at their angry tone.
"Calm down, Tyson!"
"No. I don't know why you're so worried. She's probably gone on one of those diets that girls go on and went a bit crazy."
"I think it's far worse than that, Tyson." Another voice joined the conversation. "She doesn't look…"
"Look what?"
"…healthy, to be frank."
Hilary's eyes watered and she pulled the coat tighter round her body for some form of comfort; she tried to imagine it to be him hugging her…
"Like I said, it's one of those diet crazes." Tyson retorted, not knowing what he was causing outside. "She just lost a little too much and got annoyed yesterday cos we pushed her a lil' too much."
"You mean 'you pushed her a lil too much'." A voice mimicked; a cold, icy and husky voice. A voice that melted Hilary even with its iciness. "Listen, Tyson. You may not think that what's happening is important or worrying, but there are others that wish to worry about people."
"Even you?" Tyson countered.
"…even me."
Silence. It seemed that everyone, including Hilary, was in shock; for a reason I'm sure you can guess. She replayed his words in her mind. Revelling in the hope that radiated off every syllable…
"This isn't something to joke about, Kai!"
Though the hope still lingered in Hilary's almost-broken soul, doubt flooded in like a river bursting its banks; could the boy named Kai be joking…?
(1) The fields of Asphodel is an Ancient Greek belief. They say that normal people wandered this place as shadows of their former beings; it was neither Tartarus (hell) nor the Elysian Fields (heaven).
Please review, and I apologise for the shortness. This is a hard subject to write about, as you can tell. Thank you to all reviews for the previous chapter; they made me feel better.
Note: the little quotes at the beginning of each chapter, I want you to read please. These are either from songs, books or great sayings whichI picked up during the timeI was Anorexic; they helped me to get over it and get help, so they are precious to me. Yes, this is a rather odd request, but they might help youto undertsand what I was going through...
