CHAPTER 2
The Unsuspecting Victim
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Kagome yawned again, holding a hand up to her mouth.
She was exhausted. She did not get any sleep the night before.
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Sleep? Ha! After what happened… or I think what happened? Oh gawd,´ she moved her hand to her forehead.
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Maybe she should go speak to the psychologist about this?
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"Yeah, good idea, Higurashi," she complained,
"They'll lock you up for going insane,"
"Who's insane?" a sing-song voice behind her made her jump,
"Sango, stop doing that!" she scolded her friend, hugging her half-heartedly,
"Well look at you, Higurashi!" she looked her friend over,
"You look like death… I had to put some life back, didn't I?" Sango gave her a nudge; they both laughed and continued down the sidewalk.
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The two friends walked in silence as they normally did. Well, ever since the last two years or so.
Kagome remembered their endless conversations, jumping between about 10 topics in a single go. They had been friends since before they were born due to their mothers.
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Kagome allowed herself a glance at her friend. Sango was walking tall in her usual confidence. They looked a lot alike, except Sango's eyes were a little bit smaller than her own. Kagome had bangs cut into her fringe whereas Sango kept hers straight with two distinct bangs at the sides of her face. Sango was slightly taller than she was as well, and her body was fuller.
Kagome's gaze dropped from Sango's smiling face and down her body; her short Levis denim was hugging her hips, and her black long-sleeved camisole shirt was showing off her curves and shapely breasts. Her red backpack, matching her red converse sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that danced along to the rhythm of her hips. Sango was fearless and flawless and always looked like she just stepped out of a magazine… Even at 01:00 am in the morning she would look flawless.
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Groaning inwardly, Kagome stared down at herself. No one would say she was the daughter of one of the most successful business women in the country. Her jeans were torn and faded. They were too big for her; the belt making an uncomfortable bulge here and there. Her hair was loose, but not styled, quickly brushed with her fingers before she left.
Her hoody was pulled over her head and her own converse were black, but filthy. She absentmindedly pulled her fingers through the locks hanging free from the hoody and kicked a stone on the path and the echo of it hitting something made her look up.
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Kagome frowned at the gate of the old abandoned cemetery. Up, on a small hill, sat the remnants of a small stone church. The garden was overgrown and here and there, a long-forgotten tombstone stuck out.
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Kagome was entranced as she walked closer to the gate. Something, a memory she thought, was pulling her closer. She was remembering something. Something from one of her previous mental breakdown episodes, something…. or someone… glowing eyes… a husky, beast-like voice… and a silver halo all around the face she could not see-
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"Kagome!" a hard tugging at her shoulder spun her around and out of her daze,
"Huh?" she still felt very lost,
"What the hell is wrong with you? You know that place is way off limits!" Sango was continuing her safety rant, but Kagome zoned out again,
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What was it about this place? A memory? A dream? But she could not remember… Did she even want to remember?
With a groan, she shook her head at the now silent Sango.
"Honestly, Kagome!" Sango scolded, "No regards for the feelings of others,"
they continued to the café where they were supposed to have met; instead of the empty street.
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Hours had gone by in the bustle of the small, French inspired café.
Kagome was picking away at her third napkin under the table, covering the floor with a soft white fluff.
Miroku, Sango's soon to be fiancé was – as always – flirting with the waitress in the way too short, way too tight skirt. Whereas Sango, as always, was pinching him under the table.
"Honestly, one would think they could at least talk to her about dressing like that," Sango scowled at the girl's back,
"Oh, if looks could kill, my sweet Sango," he attempted turning her head toward him, but she slapped his hand away,
Kagome just stared across the table at them, her glass of water untouched, Miroku's second Hot Apple Cider was starting to cool to the temperature where he could practically down it.
Sango brought her hot chocolate back to her lips, blatantly ignoring him.
He sighed, leaning back into the chair. His bottom lip protruding slightly, like a child denied a toy. Kagome studied him for the first time in over a year.
Miroku was always a handsome boy; his black tussles pulled into a tiny excuse of a ponytail. He had big blue eyes on a boyish face, and one small golden hopped earring in each ear.
To Kagome, this was strange. She did not feel that men should wear earrings;
… But then again, she also felt on various occasions that she was dead inside and had on various occasions tried to take her own life, but hey, who was she to get technical…
He had grown very little in the last year, yes, one could see he was older, but he still had that boyish charm.
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She dropped her head, reaching for her glass, still watching them from under her bangs as the quarrelling finally settled down. Miroku would gently pick up Sango's hand, bring it to his lips, and kiss her knuckles softly, making Sango blush and retreat her hand.
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"Miroku, stop it," Sango would say with scarlet cheeks, still trying to sound angry,
"Never," he would whisper into her neck, making Sango squirm underneath him, a chuckle escaping him as he continued playing with her true feelings for him.
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No, Miroku was not a bad guy; a womanizer perhaps, but he loved Sango dearly.
Kagome was slightly jealous of the couple… Out of all the indirect arranged marriages their generation was facing, she knew that Miroku and Sango would be happy, as they genuinely cared for one another. But even though she was jealous, she was also immensely happy for them.
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Kagome herself, well, she was not so lucky though.
Again, she looked down at her jeans and dirty shoes. She dragged the toes across the tiles.
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Hojo would never approve of her current attire. Then again, he never really approved of anything she did.
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In the public eye, they were the perfect couple, soon to be engaged right after high school, expected to get married right away and taking the country by storm when both inherited their large companies and businesses. In the public eye he was such a gentle boy, always complimenting his 'clumsy' better half.
He was always showering her with gifts and attention; but behind the curtains of the stage of everyday life, he was very controlling, arrogant and often his bad temperament would lead to her being 'clumsy' and bruised once again.
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As if picking up on her mood, like only Sango could, she looked up at her friend with a worried smile. Kagome locked eyes briefly and took a sip of the water. Sango's brows furrowed slightly.
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"Hojo is back early," Miroku flipped his phone open,
"Yeah," she did not move the glass away from her mouth,
Sango's eyes trained on her as she struggled swallowing again,
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Very few people knew about what Hojo was really like. Or at least, they pretended not to know to stay in his family's favour. Sango and Miroku knew full well as they had both been friends with Kagome before everything started happening, but neither could do anything to someone who was virtually untouchable.
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"My mom is back early due to the-" she frowned down at her glass,
Her finger tracing the wet rim,
"-security system," she bit her lip,
"Uhuh?" Sango was scowling now,
"Well, I am glad she is safe," Miroku smiled, pulling Sango to him,
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Kagome just smiled when Sango visibly relaxed into Miroku's side. He murmured something into her ear, making her giggle softly. Kagome grew uncomfortable when his one hand slipped down her leg, and his lips ran down her neck. Sango protested half-heartedly.
She would have enjoyed a romantic counterpart, like the ones she was always reading about in her books, a man who would caress her cheek softly, whisper her name, focus on not harming her in anyway…
But still feverishly display his attraction and need for her in their private moments…
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The familiar twinge from the night before stirred between her legs. She pressed her thighs together. How could someone so crazed-looking, be so gentle? The way his voice sparked every dead nerve in her body; how his hot fingers worked her skin like a potter with clay. Her sudden urge to touch him back, just to feel his skin quiver under her touch like she felt it did – or did she just imagine it?
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Kagome suddenly realized the two friends across from her was quiet and staring – at her!
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"Kagome, are you alright?" Miroku's eyebrows furrowed together,
"You look… dare I say it, flushed?" he coaxed his head playfully to the side.
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Sango was anxiously staring at her friend again, the last time she reacted like this was when Hojo was courting her; back in the days before he started killing her soul slowly. Sango's concern was all too clear on her face now.
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Kagome's eyes found Sango's,
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"Guys, I am fine," she breathed, still feeling the touch tracing down her chest, she swallowed,
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"Uhuh?" they said in unison,
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They finished off their drinks and decided to call it a day.
"Let me drop you at home?" Miroku offered, Sango hooked into his arms,
"Nah, walking should do me good," Kagome did not want to be around people,
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Nowadays, the company of books was the only company she wanted. Besides from paper cuts, a book could not hurt you, like let's say a man who you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with. The man whom is the core reason why you would rather end your own life.
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"If you're sure," Miroku ushered Sango to the car,
"Call me, will you!" Sango called after Kagome, who had already turned and started down the street.
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Kagome kicked at another stone in the pathway as she continued walking. What an exhausting morning. She barely had any energy left from the lack of sleep.
Her head was down as she yawned again; she did not look when she stepped off the curb and into the street. The honking from a car startled her and she froze. A sharp pain shot up her back as the car raced past; the driver shouting absurdities at her but continued driving.
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She was on her ass… On the curb… But how the hell did she get on her ass on the curb? She was looking around frantically. Who grabbed her and pulled her back?
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Then she saw it: a flash of silver disappearing around a corner.
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"Wait!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet,
"Hey! Wait!" she took off after the flash.
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Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest; she was not used to moving let alone running. Her head was hurting; it felt like it was going to start spinning.
She could not run anymore. She stopped, putting her hands on her knees, panting hard.
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Then she heard it.
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The hard click of a heavy metal gate.
Looking up, she realized where she was: the block with the old abandoned graveyard and church.
She frowned down the street at the large, rusted gate, but did not have the energy to move yet.
She continued staring at it while she caught her breath; her frown a deep furrow in her forehead. Finally, she moved her heavy feet.
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Walking up to the gate, she put her hands in her pocket.
She studied it closely.
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The gate was rusted, antique and very beautiful. She always had a love for antique things. She could always see them in her mind when reading about them in her stories. She would sometimes dabble in trying to sketch them.
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´Sketching, ´ a slow smile spread on her face, she could not even remember the last time she held a 2B pencil for the purpose of recreational use.
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She had dropped out of Art as a subject a year and a half ago – when her life started going to hell. Her fingers traced the cold metal, a soft red powder sticking to her fingers.
She rubbed it between her fingers.
This would make such an amazing piece with grey pencil… maybe add some red to contrast the red rust.
She shook her head again… what was she saying? Her sketching again?
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'What a silly notion,'
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She turned on her heels and started towards her home when something caught her eye. There was no rust on the hinges. This old gate was being used…
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… often …
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But who or what would go into this creepy place, especially on a regular basis?
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