Summary: Kagome moved from Japan to America when she was in seventh grade. She stopped talking in eight grade, and no one knows why. Now, in eleventh grade, Kagome will undergo a series of events that will dramatically change her...Kagome's POV.
Rated M. Why? Because my mind has many bad things in it and I don't know what I might use...
Wow. I got way more than ten reviews and I haven't even gotten started with this chapter. I feel so ashamed. I will try to update quickly. Oh, italics are things that happened during the day or in the past...
Dates Written:
April 7th, 2006
April 9th, 2006
Yeah, I was being a lazy ass and taking my time in typing them up. Sorry about that... I was also having problems with my mom and my health. Greaaaat... What a wonderful Spring Break that is coming up.
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The Games We Play
Entry Two: Taunting
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Day Two:
Okay, now it just sounds like I'm counting down days until something occurs. Perhaps I am. Maybe I'm counting the days until something absolutely amazing happens...
I am insane... Or indecisive. You can choose which.
I have never believed in fate. Ever. I believe that, if fate is real, that it shouldn't be. I have gone through shit, and I would have to thank fate for it all. Gee.
Thanks, fate. I don't know what I would have done if it weren't for you to help me become defiled! I always wanted to have this happen to me! I am SO grateful that you helped me out in the process. The job that my grandfather had at the museum was the best thing that ever happened to me!
I don't think that I will ever thank fate. It has literally taunted me until I gave in.
There's a song. I don't know what it's called, but it says something along the lines of everything you say to me takes me one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to break! Well, fate was doing that to me. Only, fate didn't hear the song and didn't understand that there was a problem.
So, fate pushed me over the edge with the taunting.
I was in seventh grade. It happened in eighth grade.
Then, people kept pestering me. I stopped caring about what my hair looked like or what grades I got in my classes. I just gave up. Everyone noticed that I wasn't the same. Everyone started asking questions.
I would tell them that I wasn't going to talk about it. Every day, I repeated to them that I wasn't going to tell them anything. That their questions were worthless. They were wasting air in asking me what happened.
I even stopped showing so much. My skin had been rubbed raw. I showered so much after it happened that I took off a lot of my skin. It became so sensitive, that I flinched whenever someone touched me. Then, after my skin replaced itself, I continued to flinch.
I didn't want to be touched. A friendly hug was my nightmare. I didn't want anyone coming too close to me, for fear of them touching me. I became paranoid...
"Kagome, dear... Don't you want to take a shower?" My mother had asked me.
"No." I coldly responded.
"Why not? You haven't taken one in days..." She reached to touch my shoulder. I screamed and threw my body away from her.
"Don't touch me! Stop!" I cried out. I looked up at my confused mother and realized what I had done. I had screwed up. I bit my lip and, with teary eyes, went to take a shower.
I can't believe it. Everyone was able to see that I wasn't comfortable to be touched. Yet, that only spurred them to do it more. They only saw that as a reason to touch me more. To lay their hands on me.
But that's going into a different story. I have to go to school tomorrow. I don't look forward to that. I'm fairly new to the school. I just moved into this one at the end of last year. I don't remember a lot of people. I don't know how many of them are still there.
My first two years of high school were spent in a school made for smart people. I don't care about my grades at all. I did the first year average. B's are a bad thing to them. The second year, I was thrown out just before the end because I had a C. I don't know why they expect so much of me.
I have already had things stripped away from me. Do they want to take my feeling of stability, too?
At my last school, no one knew my voice. At this school, only a few people have had a chance to even see me speaking sign language. I don't use it much, since it would defeat my purpose for not even talking. If I told them what happened through sign language, then they would spread it through word of mouth.
I hate high school. With a burning passion. I want to be home schooled again. If it weren't for Inuyasha, Miroku, and Sango, I would do it right away. But, they're the only friends that I've managed to make and hold onto.
I don't know why, though. I haven't been able to talk to them and tell them how horrible I am. I'm sure that Inuyasha or Miroku has to know. Men always seem to know that something is wrong more than women.
That's a bad way of putting it. When guys want to care, they are the most sincere people in the world. When they don't want to be sincere or are just being asses, then girls are your best bet to turn to for sympathy. Of course, who wants sympathy from a girl? Whenever we get sad, we just relate it to some stupid story in our life.
That was negative. I'm trying to type up positive things. That way, if anyone ever has the guts to come in here and read my stupid computer entries, they'll think I'm a happy person!
Happy my ass.
Damn. I must have a part of me that is really negative. Oh well. I think I'm negative. Maybe it's just the true me showing through all the phony ideas...
There was a time when I was positive. There was a time when I would smile and sing in front of my entire class. There was a time when I was comfortable with telling everyone what was on my mind.
That was years ago, though. Things have changed. Events have happened, and those sparked a million and seven changes...
Hey, I just got an email from my brother! He's doing well. He moved to Arizona... Is that in the United States? I think it is. I remember reading about it briefly. Anyway, he moved to Arizona with a friend. I can visit him whenever I want.
He's not doing drugs. That was my only worry. I was scared that he would do drugs to escape the history that he shared with me. He says that he wants to help people who were in my situation. He wants to help prevent what happened to me.
Mybig brother is the most noble man I know. If I weren't related to him, I would marry him (he's a year older than I am). He wants to protect me. In fact, he nearly killed someone for my sake. I feel like he's the only person I can truly depend on.
I want to depend on my friends more. But... I just have a problem with believing that they won't run away on me. I mean, it's such a dirty thing... I'm officially contaminated. No chance that someone won't be disgusted by me. They'll know it and then throw up.
I have to wonder why it happened to me. My mother, before she slipped away from the world, used to tell me that good comes out of everything bad. Well, what good can come out of something this fucking bad!
I shouldn't cuss if people might be reading this. Heaven forbid that someone might wonder why Kagome Higurashi doesn't talk. Heaven forbid that they may read this and realize that something is terribly wrong.
Heaven should truly forbid anyone to read this, though... If they're smart enough to figure out that something is wrong with me, then they'll be smart enough to figure out what happened to me.
Well, there has to be a purpose to this diary entry, too. I guess I should get to it. Since only one thing happened today, I figured I should write about that…
I had to go see my therapist today. My grandpa insists that I go once a month just so I have the opportunity of telling someone what happened. So, I had to go earlier today.
The therapist taunted me. She looked at me in the eyes and patronized me. I remember every belittling word she said.
"Kagome, are you okay?" What was I? A five-year old? I was in her eyes. I didn't speak. I can't speak.
"Kagome, sweetie pie, you should really stop this nonsense. Lots of people want to hear your voice." First off, don't call me sweetie pie, and second off, no one wants to hear me talk. No one even remembers that I can talk.
"Why don't you talk, sweetie pie? What happened? Was someone weally, weally mean to you?" She asked. Oh my God. She used baby talk. That was it. I couldn't take the taunting. I couldn't take her constant misunderstanding.
I flipped her off. Just like that, I flipped my therapist off. She screamed and started yelling that a demon was in her room. The security guards came in and took me outside.
Even though I did something bad, I managed to get out early. Of course, today I had to clean each one of the shrine steps by hand. That was grandpa's punishment for treating her that way.
Since grandpa knows a little bit of sign language, I was able to tell him that I had a reason. I made sure that he knew that I didn't do it for nothing, that she preformed an action that needed a crude reaction.
Then, I got online. My fingers were so numb I could barely even type. We have a lot of stairs for the shrine. Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that we live at the shrine. I live in the house just beside the famous God Tree. I don't see what's so famous about it, though. It's old and big… Nothing else seems to be special.
Where was I?
Oh yes, I got on the computer. My messenger automatically signed on, and Sango instant messaged me. I told her, briefly, about my flipping the woman off. Sango started laughing and saying that she should try that.
Then I had to tell her of how much pain my fingers were in. Sango stopped talking to me, and I think she was assuming I didn't want to type. Well, since I couldn't talk to her, I started surfing the internet.
Of course, more emails from The Dark Side. They have been permanently named that. Miroku has heard about The Dark Side, but he has never been able to get me to tell him who they are or what they do.
That's the beauty of not talking! Since Miroku knows sign language, I talk to him through my hands. When he starts going towards something I don't want to talk about, I hold my wrists as if they're in pain.
Works all the time. He stops talking, and I will continue doing whatever I was doing.
Of course, there are a lot of disadvantages to not talking, too. People pick on me, and I can't do a thing about it. The only gesture I can make that they'll understand would only piss them off further.
I have come close to talking several times. Mainly when people are talking to me and saying that it's really sad how my laryngitis kept me from talking permanently. Laryngitis? I never told anyone that I had that. Hell, I don't even know what it is! But everyone is under the impression that it damaged my voice box and kept me from talking for the rest of my life.
I want to correct people so much. I want to tell people that I can talk, and to have them know that something is wrong. Of course, I won't do anything that would let them know something is wrong. If they found out that everything was not okay, then they would get my past from me.
And I stopped talking just to keep my past a secret. I can't start talking now to get people to leave me alone. That will only interest them more. I can't stay silent much longer, because people are picking on me. It's only a matter of time until I get a black eye or something.
When that happens, grandpa will home school me again. When I'm home schooled, I will have to help at the shrine, which requires talking. I can't talk. I refuse to talk for anyone.
I will not talk. That is my new year's resolution every damn year. I can not talk. I can not let people know what things I have gone through. I can not let anyone else know the secrets that I know.
I can't. It would kill me if someone were to actually pry these thoughts out of my head.
I've read fiction stories about people who can read minds. Those scare me. I am deathly afraid of having someone on this planet who can read minds.
If that happened, I think I'd be stupid enough to just kill myself. What better way to shut up than to go through eternal sleep? Okay, that was bad. I forgot that I'm trying to lay off the cynicism.
Here's the closing entry for my diary. This is the 'Food for Thought' if anyone manages to read this.
"Hey, Kimi!" That voice was me. Young, happy, and full of innocence. That phase of my life never lasted as long as it was supposed to.
"Hey, Kaggie! I am so surprised to see you here!" Kimi replied. Kimi was the typical Japanese girl. Then she got tired of blending in and dyed her hair bright red. I mean as crimson as you can get. Kimi flipped her short hair then gave me a grin.
"I didn't think that you were the party type." I plainly told her. Boy, I was way too innocent. I couldn't see KIMI as a party girl? Hmm. I must have been stupid.
"You serious? I come here all the time. Hey, I want you to meet my boyfriend. His name is—"
"Andrew. I'm from America." He butted in. I smiled at him as he hugged Kimi's body against his own.
"Wow, Kimi. It's not often that you get a boyfriend from America…Most of them are only visiting." I said. I guess I had forgotten that Andrew was even there.
"Yeah, I know… He moved here because of some stuff that happened back in America. I don't know what, and he's always reluctant to talk about it." Kimi said. I nodded my head then looked at Andrew.
"Well, would you tell me why you moved here?" I questioned politely. He gave it thought, and I knew he was going to say no. After all, if he wouldn't tell his girlfriend, why would he tell her best friend?
"Sure." He said.
I remember being shocked as he told the story in front of Kimi. I remember the anger that began to build up in her eyes. She took a step away from Andrew and stood beside me. Best friends would stick together, and I was glad she trusted me more than him.
After all, who would want to trust Andrew? He was the American, and we were the innocent Japanese girls. We had fallen into his hands, because he was different than the other boys that we had seen.
Like I said, he was American. At that point, when we were living in Japan still, I thought American were the worst breed of humanity. I couldn't stand the idea of America at all. Because, this guy seemed to be the model of all Americans.
He was famous. He was famous among the Americans for the reason he had given us. I couldn't stand it, and Kimi was crying about it.
I hated Americans until I was forced to become one. I hated them as long as I possibly could.
Then I got sick of hating and gave up on everything. Including my voice.
And that is where I shall leave my diary to be lost… Yes, my diary with human characteristics. I know they had a name for that in English class… personification! Wow. Long word. Yes, anyone who manages to find this and read it will know how pathetic my vocabulary is…
Why am I so paranoid about people reading this, anyway?
O o O o O o O o O oO
If you knew that everything was a lie, then you would know the worst of it all. Because I can't tell you, you have to get it on your own. Because my pain is the perfect delight used for my demise…
O o O o O o O o O o O
You know what? A lot of people figured out the message. I'm just going to leave it there because it looks cool. I gave up on trying to list everyone's name.
Rina Bebii- I'm sorry. I didn't intend to make you depressed.
Chidarake No Bara- You're very close, but just a bit off.
Rikaku- I am so glad you reviewed! You're one of my favorite reviewers (no offense to everyone else), becuase you write me insanely long emails! That's really sad that it's the only way I can remember that's who you are...
Next Chapter: Back to School
Reviews Needed: 20
- Lonely Bird
