Tokyo Shadows

The Begining Of The End

Akiko:

"No, no, no! Please don't hurt him!" I used whatever breath was left in my lungs to scream out those words.

I could feel my chest deflate and inflate jerkily afterwards, my breaths as heavy as rocks. My face was facing downwards and my vision focused on the ghastly scene playing out on my own body. One of my hands was on my chest, perceiving the palpitations and the incessant contractions and expansions. The other hand was clasping onto a thin cloth that was wrapped tightly around my arm. No vestige of the original white of the cloth was visible as the deep red of my blood (which did not seem like it would stop flowing any time soon) tainted the initial colour. Sections of the damp and sticky cloth uncovered what was underneath – a gaping wound with parts of dead translucent skin flapping out. Evidently, my entire makeshift 'bandage' was rendered useless as almost my whole arm was caked with blood. Instead of feeling pain, I strangely felt feelings of desperation and apprehension. I allowed these surging emotions overpower me, yielding them to propel me forward towards a shrilling roar. The noise was so piercing that I could feel vibrations caused from the sound pounding on my body. It was like a howling gale that was restraining me from moving forward. I flinched from the high pitched cry, my eardrums upset. Still, I dragged my feet forward, my eyes riveting on the ground.

My mind was filled with a myriad of silent prayers (ironic, considering the fact that I have many qualms when it comes to religion) but all of them contained the same words. "Please, help him! Don't let him die!"

My eyelids fluttered open, flickering around my familiar surroundings. A bedroom, my bedroom. My brain finally registered where I was. In contrast, my vision seemed to have trouble adjusting to focus on the pale blue of my ceiling. I blinked and blinked again, only to realise the reason why my vision refused to uncloud. I touched the bottom of my eyelids. My fingers trailed down my cheeks and I started rubbing them slowly together. It's damp. I suddenly realised how unusually warm my cheeks had been feeling. I moved my arm to cover my eyes, a sigh escaping from my dry lips. Darn it, I cried again. 

That wasn't the first time it happened. It wasn't the first time I have dreamt such a dream. 

The worst part was that although the dream would be this vague mess of fragments, it still managed to stir so many emotions in me...and I still couldn't recognise the reason why.

I heaved myself up to sit on my bed. With a quick glance at my alarm clock, I made my way out of my bedroom. Even if I had dreamt of such a horrible nightmare, I still had to go to school.

It is very queer to say this but I feel as if there is something off about me. Not me as an entire being, not me as in what I do in my daily life. Just...me. 

I mean I have always lived a normal life. I had a normal family, normal friends and a normal daily routine. Everything about me screams normal . Trust me, I am not like those kind of people who boasts about their quirks to hide the actuality of their own blandness. I like normal so I embrace it.

However, this nagging feeling that tugs at me now and then makes me think otherwise. It is very hard to explain and my vocabulary is not wide enough to accurately explain this phenomenon. I forgot when was the time that I first had this thought but it is more than obvious something is amiss with me. I will explain in more detail later about what I mean but I feel as if...

I am missing something, I just know it.

After I left home today, I skipped on the asphalt and concrete tiles on my way to school. I certainly did not want to be late for school. I hate it when attention is being focused on me, and being late is one of the things people with that kind of thinking should not do unless I want a sea of students to stare curiously at me while I stand at the door huffing and puffing facing disapproving teachers because of my tardiness.