The Person I Desired to Be (On Going)

1. Lost in my own reflections

"Compliments huh..." Carena, 16, gazed at her reflection in the dim bathroom mirror, which seemed hollow and almost strange. In her shaking palm, she clutched a razor blade, gently turning it over so that the edge caught the light.

"Should I?" She whisper, her voice was hardly heard.

Looking in the mirror, she tried to find the girl that everyone had commended, the one that her family and friends had faith in, and she questioned why she was unable to feel the same sense of pride in herself.

"'We're going to be in Britain,' they said." Carena whispered, her voice tinged with anger. She got out of the shower and walked across the peaceful apartment, her bare feet brushing against the tatami mat ground. Outside the window, morning sounds trickled in—a distant but lively murmur of voices as uniformed students raced past on their way to school, pausing at vending machines along the way. A delivery vehicle beeped gently as it negotiated the short street, its driver welcoming neighbors as they opened their shops for the day.

The repetitive clacking of a bicycle going below piqued her interest, as did the faint chime of a melody from a local shop's morning announcement.

With a detached face, Carena packed her things into her school bag. However, one item—a well-worn notebook—seemed to capture her attention for a minute longer. Her name, Carena Ahlquist, was beautifully written on the cover, but a line had been scratched through it. Neptune, she had written just above, in large, determined characters.

She headed to the door after putting the notebook in her purse and taking a quick look around the vacant apartment. Her gaze landed on the trash can beside the entrance as she was leaving, its contents revealing a different tale: test papers with flawless marks, one after another, each plainly marked with a 100%. Her look remained unchanged, and she turned away, silently shutting the door behind her. The corners of her mouth did not raise.

After plugging in her earbuds, Carena entered the bustling street with a gentle buzz of music filling her ears. She was surrounded by the normal commotion of morning routines: students in identical uniforms rushed by her, their voices indistinguishable from one another as they all hurried toward the school.

The soothing beat served as a momentary diversion from the cacophony in her head as she attempted to immerse herself in the music. Even with the music playing, she could still hear the faint noises of nearby conversations, brief bursts of laughter, and the acerbic remarks of pals organizing after-school activities. Everything seemed far away, as though she wasn't completely a part of the living.

She glanced briefly at a group of females giggling as she passed the row of vending machines. The music was too loud to drown out the old agony within Carena, so she only nodded when one of them glanced at her and waved.

Walking into the gates of her high school, Carena stood out like a light among the sea of Japanese pupils. She was hard to overlook due to her height, but others around her were drawn to her for more reasons than just that. She had nearly white hair that fell in gentle waves, a stark contrast to the crowd's black hair. Her eyes, a peculiar shade of mint-green that seemed to glitter in the morning light, were the next to catch the attention of anyone who ventured to glance in her direction.

She captivated her peers not just with her beauty but also with her presence. Among the uniformed kids, she was a vision, a figure of almost heavenlike. As she went by, a few kids cast eyes at her and mumbled, but Carena was unaware of the attention.

With the serene assurance of someone who had been given a scholarship to this esteemed high school—the type of opportunity that made others take notice—she strolled. However, she is not proud, she thinks the scholarship only forces her to go to school.