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I AM A GIRL WHO WANTS TO ESCAPE FROM THE DARKNESS. 

but i am also part of the darkness, so it is impossible. i can never escape from myself, no matter how fast i run.

this house is proof of that. even with its alabaster white walls, the walls are drenched in darkness and dark, dark memories. even though i tried to decorate my room once with fairy lights and polaroids of scenery that i wish to go to and all kinds of things that ordinary girls have in their room, a wall of the room cracked.

a big, black crack similar to lightning that still hasn't disappeared to this day. it was as if it was saying 'don't bother trying to change and hide yourself.'

mother and i didn't bother to try and fix it. to get rid of the warning. to get rid of yet another piece of darkness. because if we did try to fix it, we're both secretly scared that something more than the wall will crack.

but not ourselves though, because we already have cracked and shattered and fractured. and we are still cracking and shattering and fracturing so much, that it doesn't matter to us anymore.

but if it happened to someone other than us, someone that we loved, well, then that would be a different story.

but there is no such person who we love, because everyone knows what trouble we are. and so, we are isolated from society.

[sometimes i wonder what father was thinking when he signed that deal. then i remember that he wasn't thinking at all. he was just a hopeless human, acting out of the drive of love and desperation.]

putting aside the gloomy thoughts which i hated yet i was the creator of, i walk through my house to the living room. the house is silent; too silent, it always is. the house, with its elaborate and intricate décor, victorian style and beautiful outside, was always hollow and empty from life on the inside.

it is rather miserable and sad, but that is why this house fits my family well.

"mother, i'll be going now," i say quietly, kissing the woman on her head. mother is seated on the pristine couch and staring into empty space; she always is.

mother stirs from her daze slightly, her eyes void of emotion flickering up to glance at my face. repulse rippled across her face briefly before being disguised by a hint of curiosity. but it was too late; i had already seen the disgust on her face upon seeing me. and honestly, i don't blame her.

when she spoke her voice was hoarse and she paused in between words, as if she had forgotten how to speak fluently. "where...are you going?"

"school, mother," i reply, slinging a backpack over my shoulder. "it's the first day of my last year."

"but...i thought you were only a first year?"

"mother, that was two years ago."

not wanting to continue the awkward conversation, i leave the living room before seeing mother's reaction. i quickly slide my feet into the pair of school shoes before leaving the house that you could admire for years but never love, the house which i had lived in for years but i never called home.  

i pause for a moment to look at the scenery surrounding the house. i am not surprised by the drab and barren scenery, even though tokyo is in the middle of the spring and tsuyu (the rainy season). 

even with the rain and the fresh atmosphere that is associated with spring, flowers with supposedly bright colours are fading into a water-colour, fragile version of themselves, so dainty that the wind might pluck them from the earth and whisk them up to the heavens with its cotton candy clouds. 

[i wish to be whisked up to the heavens]. 

spring is supposed to smell nice and fragrant, but i think it smells like despair because i am reminded that even in spring, beauty can't seem to blossom and flourish around the house. 

i am sick of that reminder so i turn on my heel and walk. 

less than thirty seconds into my walk, i hear a choir singing and turn my head to see the local church. it is a place of brightness against the dreary neighbourhood, with hymns of alleluia praising the heavens and golden candles flickering along the entrance.

even though the church is shunned by majority of my generation and has earned a bad reputation, for some reason, i, i, the girl of darkness, incline my head in a mixture of curiosity and longing.

the people attending morning service are singing words that eulogize God with their hands clasped together.

i can't help but wish for someone to clasp hands with and feel their warmth.

[i am the independent girl, and that is a good thing, he tells me. but yet, i envy their dependence to rely on somebody, to have someone to rely on.]

[i want somebody to rely on.]

[will somebody want me to be that person?]

"would you like to come in for a quick prayer?"

i blink out of thoughts and i realize that the woman with a weathered face in front of me asked a question. i shake my head. "i'm not welcome here."

"everyone's welcome to church," and her smile spreads warmly.

"what if i'm lesbian?" i question her, and i instantly see disgust flicker over her face. slightly smirking to myself, i walk off, away from the holy place as i'm sure she would want me to despite her pretty words. 

[i am not lesbian, i just wanted to expose her bad side. for some reason i like exposing the horrible side of people. that disgusts me.]

i approach the busier side of my neighbourhood, with glamorous manors that house the popular and sophisticated girls of my school.

in this area, it is obvious that the season of natural beauty is present. colourful flowers line the pathways, evoking feelings of euphoria and childhood. but it stills smell like despair, because i am again reminded of how this beauty will never come to the house or my family. 

but then i see something that tears my attention away from the fruits of spring; the stares. 

i only have to walk for fifteen minutes before i arrive to school, but even though it's such a little time i seem to get a plethora of stares from this section of tokyo. today is no exception.

passersby who occupy the neighbourhood stare at me with oculars that seem so prepared to judge a stranger. even some of the children stop, sensing something wrong with both their parents and me. 

i'm sure the passersby are all recalling that night from four years ago. i'm sure they all vividly remember the screams from my mother and the yells from my father and the wails of both ambulance and police cars. 

i know they are.

i stuff earbuds into my ears even though there is no music playing in them and continue walking to school, eyes glued on the pavement.

i halt my steps when the pavement changes into smooth stone tiles that are perfectly lined to create an entrance to the local cemetery. slowly, i bring my gaze up to view the cemetery with stones erected from the ground that shine faintly in the morning sun.

the passersby are whispering now. 

"she's so weird..."

"why must she pause by the cemetery like that?"

"why must she disturb the deceased with her monstrous presence?"

"she almost looks like she's sorry."

"she's acting as if she didn't k-"

"don't say that! she'll hear you! and you never know what will happen next!"

whispers similar to the ones from mornings similar to this one continue to arise.

if you're going to insult me, at least come up with new ones. you've been saying this for four years now. 

despite what they say, i continue to stand and merely stare at the cemetery. partly because i want to continue to anger the passersby. but mostly because i want to check something.

and as expected, i hear the shrieks and howls of the people who have passed away here who have not gone to heaven. their voices are deafening, so loud that when i was eight and i first visited this cemetery i thought i was going to go deaf. 

they demand to be free, to be released from the chains of purgatory or the flames of hell, and they will not stop until i either go away from the cemetery or until i oblige to their requests.

but i do not oblige to their request because they earn their punishment and i am not responsible for it. but i also do not stop staring at the cemetery because, like i said before, i want to check something.

i crane my neck to see the aisle of tombstones that were made eight years ago until i find with my eyes the one of the only silent spirits of this cemetery. but unlike the other silent spirits, this one isn't in heaven. this spirit is rotting in one of the deepest parts of hell. 

the spirit that said nothing but was the loudest of all.

darkness began to cover each wall.

"m-mum, w-why is d-dad-"

rope, stained with blood.

"h-hiroyuki!"

life being sucked out.

"i-i'm sorry...katsumi..."

shrieks and screams and sobs.

"you're a monster!"

and then, silence.

i shake my head, urging to get rid of the painful flashbacks. the passersby are watching still. and suddenly, i become all too aware of their stares combined with the howls of the spirits and the silence of that spirit.

everybody is staring.

so i run.

[as if that will do anything to get rid of the darkness.]

 i do not stop until i reach the familiar gates of fukurodani academy, the high school which i despise full of people i also despise but the place where i had been educated for the past two years. 

several students are milling about into the school grounds in friendship groups, gossiping about the teachers or chatting about their summer holidays. 

i approach the wall where majority of students are gathered around. pieces of paper are plastered to the stone wall; lists and lists of whose in which class. i push past students crying as they aren't in the same class with their friends and students smiling as they are in the same class with all of their friends.

but i grow tired of trying to get to the front of the noisy crowd so i clear my throat and, even though it wasn't that loud, all eyes are on me. 

it is funny how teachers all say each student is special in their own way. the scene in front of me denies that. the reaction they have of me is all the same, nobody is special in their own way. recognition flashes in their eyes, followed by fear and soon enough, the crowd part to make a clear pathway for me. 

everybody is staring.

again.

and so i ignore them, something which is second nature to me now. i scan the lists of paper as the crowd behind me stays in their pathway formation, for another person is coming, this person with friends circling her.

this person, however, doesn't rule from fear like i do. she rules from love. and so she smiles and waves and greets before she stands next to me, also scanning the lists.

"kichona!" the person greets with a smile before going in for a quick, one-sided hug. her smile widens and she finds her name on the wall. "ooh, we're in the same class again! this is the, what, eleventh time?"

"twelfth," i correct her. her friends, which have been watching our exchange the whole time, widen their eyes in surprise and i don't blame them. 

nakamura gokana and i have an unexpected friendship. we have been to the same schools throughout our whole life and, miraculously, been in the same class for twelve straight years. 

however, we knew each other even before we started school, when we both attended the local preschool. and so, we became best friends.

that hasn't changed in the past years. although, sometimes i wonder if we met later on in life, would we be best friends like this? sometimes i don't wonder, because i know the answer; no.

the incident that occurred when we were nine changed me. and then when puberty hit us, our personalities contrasted greatly. gokana is popular, talkative, nosy, interested in boys and pretty. i am a loner, quiet, ignorant, interested in nothing and regal.

gokana is the classic, stereotypical popular girl with blonde hair and a face that attracts not only boys, but some girls. i am the far from the average loner girl with dark hair and a face that can be admired, but never loved. 

but we did meet before all the changes, so the only thing holding our friendship together is the fact that we are each other's oldest friends. we know each other's secrets. she knows about the incident and who i really am, the only person other than me to know. and we simply cannot imagine life without one another. 

[that thought does make me feel as though i belong somewhere. but then i remember that it's just a thought, my thought, and that i do not know if gokana feels the same why.]

[i think so.]

[i hope so.]

"you look gloomy. what's wrong, kichona?" gokana asks, linking arms with me as if we were three again and leading me to the school building, a slight bounce in her step. she leaves her other friends behind, and i think she does not notice. or she does not care. she smiles to me. "i know you don't like those girls."

"thanks," i smile slightly before referring to her question. "nothing's wrong; it's just the idea of going back to school. i don't know why you're so happy."

"of course i'm happy!" she laughs as we walk down the hallway. "i get to see all my friends again! and what's more is that i hear several of the boys had a glow-up over the holidays."

she says the last sentence with a wink and i merely sigh. "i don't understand why you're always obsessing over the boys."

"you'll understand one day, ona-chan," she says dreamily, calling me by my childhood nickname in her daze. 

"kana-chan!"

her childhood nickname is used next not by me, but rather by another popular girl with salmon pink hair. i made the childhood nickname, but somewhere along gokana's rise to popularity, it was taken to be used by someone else, not me. 

i haven't called her that in four years, but i heard it what seemed like every four minutes last year at school.

the call interrupts our conversation and awakens gokana from her quick daze. she smiles brightly as the popular girl approaches us. we stop outside our new classroom.

"i missed you so much!" gokana squeals and they hug quickly. "it's so good to see you again, mieko-chan!"

i can't help but notice that they are on a first name basis. i thought gokana was only on a first name basis with me.

"you too," mieko excitedly nods. then she catches sight of me and awkwardly bows formally. "o-oh, hey wakara-san."

"you don't have to bow, you know," i scoff. 

"r-right," mieko nods again, nervously this time. then she speaks to gokana and her whole demeanour changes. "kana-chan, let's go get our stuff sorted for this year. the others are waiting for us inside!"

mieko and gokana quickly enter the class, chatting animatedly. i am left alone at the corridor, and all of a sudden, i am aware of the many stares. they aren't staring at me in disgust like their parents do. they stare at me with some sort of fear that mieko reeked with when she talked with me.

everyone is staring.

again.

all because i am darkness. 

i also am a girl who wants to escape from the darkness.

but i am the darkness, so it is impossible. i can never escape from myself, no matter how fast i run.

so i straighten my posture, lift my chin high so that the crown shines, make eye-contact with the nearest starer and glare at him with a tremendous amount of force until he whimpers slightly. 

and i embrace the darkness. 

[even if i don't want to.]