I found myself suspended from school for three weeks, a period when I was adrift in a whirlwind of events so rapid and complex, they seemed almost beyond my capacity to comprehend. I disappeared from my part-time job, erecting barriers between myself and the world, creating an enclave of solitude, turning my home into a silent fortress, save for the persistent echoes of Hasegawa's anxious voice outside my door. As the days stretched on, his visits became almost predictable, a part of the rhythm of my seclusion. Yet, despite the familiarity of his visits, I was unprepared for the unforeseen turn of events that would leave an indelible mark on my psyche.
On one particular night, as I lay adrift in thoughts in my living room, pondering the mask I would don upon my return to school, I was jolted from my reverie by a knock at the door. It wasn't Hasegawa, as the knock was absent from his persistent call and was more reminiscent of a delivery man without a greeting. Curiosity piqued, I approached the door, only to be met with a face I had not anticipated – Papa.
My heart thundered in my chest, a tempest of emotions swirling within me. Part of me screamed to retreat, to maintain the distance I had so carefully established, while another part yearned for closure, for some semblance of understanding. In a moment of conflicted impulse, I opened the door, inviting Papa into my fortress.
Yielding to the latter, I let him in, unaware that this decision assumed to be a heart-to-heart talk would unfold into a grave error.
"The day when I got to know you're not my son, all I could think of was to kill that bitch! But when I saw you— yes, this is it! I'm gonna kill her through you!"
Papa's eyes, wide and unblinking, bore into me as he loomed over where I sat, trapped on the single-seater sofa. His smile twisted into a grotesque mimicry of amusement, more befitting a venomous spirit than a doting father. A sinister chuckle, dark and foreboding, slipped from his lips, his gaze alight with a disturbing blend of mirth and malevolence. It was a look that transported me back to that first moment when his fingers crossed a line they never should have, marking the beginning of our twisted journey.
A visceral terror gripped me, as my mind raced with the chilling thought that I was going to face the fate he once contemplated for Mama.
"Let me go!"
"Oh, no... what are you talking about? Don't you want to play with Papa again, hm?"
"Get away from me—!"
"Hah, cry as loud as you want. No one will listen to you, no one... is allowed to turn me down!"
The instinct to flee, to break free from his oppressive presence, surged within me. I struggled, summoning every ounce of my being to push him away, to reclaim my space and safety. But it was as if the nightmares that had haunted me, the sleepless nights and the relentless stress, had leached away my strength.
Overwhelmed by fear and suffused with regret, I found myself breaking, tears streaming down my face in a torrent of despair. My cries were pleas for forgiveness, for salvation, a desperate call for anyone to rescue me from this nightmare. Yet, as my energy ebbed away, my resistance faltered, leaving me defenceless and broken.
As I was swallowed by the relentless tide of nightmares, I found myself descending into an ever-deepening chasm of despair. In this descent, a haunting hallucination visited me – Mio, her hand reaching out to me from beyond, her voice a siren call, beckoning me to embrace the darkness that had consumed her.
Yeah, maybe this is the way to free myself...
I was teetering on the brink of surrender when a familiar voice pierced the fog of my despair. It was a voice I had often found irksome yet strangely comforting.
"Senpai...?"
That time, when I blinked open my eyes, I met the sight of Hasegawa, standing before me, soaked from the rain, his neatly groomed eyebrows knit together in worry. We were sheltered under the slide in a playground, a setting that felt both surreal and grounding. I recall pushing him away, somewhat a reflex born of annoyance and weariness, then fleeing into the rain with him in pursuit.
And in the summer rain, it was the first time I allowed myself to break down in front of someone, succumbing to Hasegawa's embrace as he whispered in my ears with his voice that was like refreshing summer rain, cooling the scorching pain within me.
"It's okay... cry as much as you want, senpai. I'm here with you..."
In my state of decay, I lacked the courage to meet Hasegawa's gaze and confess the traumas Papa had inflicted upon me. Instead, I chose solitude, vanishing from him and everyone's view for a week and then for the entirety of the summer break.
YOU ARE READING
FALSE
General FictionIn the tender years of his childhood, when he was merely three, Daichi's life took a harrowing turn under the guidance of Miura-san to a sinister, adult world far beyond his understanding. Oblivious to the gravity of his actions, Daichi spiralled fu...