The Nakahara Volumes

Locomotive: Part 1- Coals

Truly, Sunako after many years of trained vigilance would be able to watch a short length slasher marathon? But after slowly chugging down the chocolate delicacies she had made earlier this night, she found even the gory screams of Jason's victims couldn't whisk her from the glorious temptations of dreamland.

The delicious cackles of laughter summoned her to rest; the slasher film? The slasher film was forgotten, discarded into the black abyss of the recesses of her mind. No, only the sound of bone grating filled up her slipping conscious, the supposed sound of Josephine's laughter as Sunako had distinguished long ago when she was regularly conversing with the old western anatomical skeleton and her other likes of friends.

Even from far off, between the dank walls of the vintage store the chorus reached her waiting ears, their creature of the dark. The laughter only lasted for moments, moments of Sunako's eternity, but only moments. Their faces came to mind filling her inner sole with bubbling joy, she had missed her lifeless friends so very much, she ached for them looking wistfully through the glass, the transparent obstacle to her loved ones. But still they joined her in the hollows of her mind.

"Sunako, darling, what fine visual treachery have you been basking in now?" said the motherly tone of said brimmed hat skeleton.

"Jason always Jason, forever Jason," the chibified fan said kneeling before her interpretation of Aphrodite.

"What of bodily dissections?" Came the male counterpart named George, who's voice she had rarely heard thus prior.

"No time, these creatures of the light- the flies, will not share the fun,only tell me i can't due to some five year degree or other MD watcha-ma-callit,"

"How dreadful," cried the high pitched croak and groan of the couple, spinning around their foster child.

"Come take a walk?" said Josephine, offering her boney phalanges.

Sunako's own fleshy hand fell softly into the coarse grit of her mother-skeleton, never fearing the texture or the clutch bestowed, "Where is Jason?" shied the little girl between her beloved friends.

"Off massacring in some poor soles night terror," George answered looking at ghostly flower fields they passed, seeming like an old folks-men by the love bestowed on the wilting flowers he touched.

"I wonder if he'll bring back a trophy, a fine specimen of his knife's," she giggled, "hand."

"We'll have to see darling," cooed Georgie giving a look only recognisable when you put flesh and eyes on his face. Be sure it was a look of eternal love.

"Where is Hiroshi?" Sunako interrupted feeling the unusual pang of hurt at intimate affairs.

"Oh dear, we left him behind," Josephine gasped, hand to her mouth in disappointment.

"Not very far he can get without legs!" George laughed and soon they were all laughing. A mix of crackling bone grates and childish evil laughter fit for nightmares, very sad indeed.

As they walked back, many more bright flowers had wilted and they could see the harm of this unique existence of theirs.

"Everything has a meaning, Sunako." Josephine said quietly leading the girl forwards so as to avoid conflicted gazes from their walking partner.

"Everything? Not everything." Sunako said in disbelief. Nothing her skeletal friend said should be taken lightly.

"Name something that isn't." the voice challenged in its flowery elegance.

"The flowers." said Sunako noting how disheveled the earth they trod on became.

"They symbolise the hands of death," said Josephine in her same tone.

The word had a certain ring behind it she had not felt before. Death. So very condemning.

"Once the hands of the dead touch the living they begin to wilt out forever dead from hence forth, they are already dying, short life depleting." She singsonged.

"What about your hat?" said normal size Sunako reaching at the older day features adoring the pretty head covering.

Josephine blushed before saying. "To identify me in your memories, as a female, but formerly due to how it connected us at first."

She stopped dead between red poppies which lulled Sunako with their bewitched scent.

"Everything has a meaning, the reason you cast us away, nurtured your memories, good and bad, love your enemies and hate your friends." she began reciting what Sunako believed to be a long rehearsed anecdote. "However, you do not have to succumb to the products of those meanings you have choice Sunako, because you are alive, and live with the live." She said stepping back and into the waiting ribcage of George.

The poppies challenged her dreamful state wrecking her clear view of skeletal couple

"We remain in the recess of your mind to teach you, what we are, Sunako, is a long, dreadful lesson, many lessons. All we can do is teach you." said the low resonating sound.

Just like the climax of the movie things began to slip and slide followed by an avalanche of emotional wreckage as her friends faded into the darkness she no longer wanted. No she wanted her beautiful friends, under the goddamned blood red sky with blood sucking poppies.

"What about Hiroshi?" she called into the aimless dark.

"Hiroshi, has resigned, he is no longer your teacher.." called the echoing voice of tearful Josephine.

"Please do not burn on our memories."