Phase One
I was trembling when I woke. I had a bad dream. But alas, I couldn’t even remember what happened in my nightmare. I know one thing though it was awful. I checked my phone; it was four in the morning. I went to the bathroom. Thinking that there’s no point in going back to sleep.
As I finished my bath, I felt my mom waking up. Or rather I heard her footsteps. After getting dressed I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes are still the same. They seem lifeless, perhaps they seem cold to other people.
I went downstairs to prepare breakfast, but I heard a ruffling sound. My mom was still asleep so whose footsteps did I hear? Then I saw the culprit. I went back to the kitchen and got a sturdy weapon. I went back to the study room and as soon as I had the chance, I knocked him unconscious.
“Mom, there’s an unconscious man in our study. Go fetch the police” I said while shaking her violently, trying to wake her up.
“Hmmm”
“Mom, wake up. Or I’m gonna kill the man in the study.” As soon as the words came out Mom was suddenly awake and alert. She went out of the room and I think went out to fetch the authorities while I prepared breakfast.
After leaving a note and tying the man in a window pane, I left the house and went to school. It’s the first day of school actually. And my school is weird. It was my mom’s choice. She thinks I have a special gift or something. But let me tell you now, I don’t. She believes I’m some kind of genius that can do anything and has everything.
[Mashiro Arts Academy]
It was quite early, actually too early for me to be here but I wasn’t going home that’s for sure. The guard looked at me but doesn’t seem to care as if seeing someone early in this school is already common. I passed the gate and went in to look around and look for my classroom.
The school itself is okay, it’s actually grand but classy in a way. There were a few students already so I understand why the guard didn’t look at me weirdly.
Everyone seems to be focused on their own business, some of them holding canvasses and painting while the others were holding different kinds of instruments. What am I doing here anyway? I’m not even good at anything about arts. In fact I hate arts, but I do love looking at them.
I went to the other direction and looked around hoping; maybe I’ll find something that suited my ambition. Then I came across a small door, it was really small compared to those doors I have passed. Out of curiosity, I opened it.
I didn’t expect that I would see a mirror room, the kind of room you see in dramas, where artists practice their dance steps and choreography. I went in, and looked around. It looked like it hasn’t been used in years, but still the aura of it being a practice room before emanates. I looked to my left where a player was located. I plugged my mp3 to it and played a song. It was one of my favorite songs to dance to, but I hadn’t got the chance to do so for the past two years.
The music stopped, I feel so light hearted and happy, that I started laughing and giggling. I went over to the stereo and saw my phone.
I’ve missed this. But I’m afraid I won’t be doing it again. Things like happiness, love, hatred are just word to me. I can't feel them, I'm not allowed to.
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