———
BREAK THE SKIN
UNTIL IT HURTS.
———
The world is slowly pulling her back in. It fizzles in between the cracks of her dried skin, leaving her screaming and weeping as the pain finally situated itself in her brain. And it stings, like each and every bone in her body had gone through the gutter. Her bones are beating with anger, the pain was unnecessary but it would allow her to grow like a blossoming sprout in the midst of summer. She feels her feet sinking into the earth's mantel slowly, but surely. She screams as her legs catch on fire, flames licked at her skin like a hungry hell hound; whimpering and sobbing for remnants of flesh to feast on.
Her heart is pumping excitedly in the confines of her chest, adrenaline kissing her body until it marred her skin with blacks and blues. But she doesn't feel it - she doesn't feel anything. Not even the stinging pain that came with having her legs planted firmly into the ground, merging her flesh with the earthy soil, and becoming a ground for society to march on.
The faint whispers of her frightened heart and logical mind blended into the background like white-noise. Miyoshi Manami couldn't hear anything but the spirits of war.
Behind the returning sun, she walked away from the ocean with a smile of conviction. The cotton crafted shirt hung soggily on her fragile shoulders, and the framed curls of her wet hair piled up messily on her scalp made her shiver in disgust. The sun hums gently, serenading her as she emerged from the depths of the sea with jubilance dancing on her contented face.
The sky sings for the cracked image of this cold, shivering, tired girl. And they marvel and gag at her returning figure; the world does not know half of the things she can do, and neither does she. A cold, sullied corpse of a demon floating in the big-bodied water was what made unpredictability a terrifyingly exotic trump card.
It would be a hundred times easier if the water surrounding the rotten carcass wasn't stained with a dark carmine red, and soon enough the prying eyes of society will see, digest the importance of her existence. This alone, made her smile even larger, forcing her teeth to spit the self-loathing accumulated in her body out of her system.
She'd scoff if she could, but her lips are shaking from the intense raft of wind that came in unsuspectingly. Her mind is screaming to be wary of the people lurking around the closed-off beach. If she had done so, it wouldn't only tarnish the respect she spent years chasing after, but it would also ruin her brother's indisputable character.
Miyoshi Manami held the steering wheel tightly, gripping the textured leather between her fingers as she dug her nails into it. She poured anger and disappointment into the deafening shout so loud, that tore her throat apart, and it made her ears bleed.
Take the skin, take it all if you want. Break the skin, only until it hurts.
Tokyo's bright lights blinded her dead eyes, making her feverishly twitch her fingers as she desperately tried to compose her crumbling exterior. The desperation to become someone she was not made her sick to her stomach, and the deafening silence of the 10-minute car drive all the way to headquarters made her even more nauseated.
She couldn't fight the feeling of regret sinking into her bones. Her heart pounded unsteadily, the adrenaline far gone; the only resounding echo was of the loud cackles of the devil situated in her heart. Somewhere along the lines, perhaps she has mistaken adrenaline for pure ecstasy that came with death and many other calamities. The woman screeched longingly in the confines of her heart and she chanted even louder, the more Manami shed her burden onto the sullied corpses.
