Chapter 13 - Flashback
He continued observing me until he noticed I’m uncomfortable and gazed away.
Awkward silence occurred until Mai spoke again. “Hey, I discovered a good recipe on a cake, could I –”
“No.” Pablo interrupted her, “we all know your cooking skills.”
Mai’s hazelnut eyes gave him a reproached look. Marshmallow whined, walking to Pablo and the door. “I guess he wants a walk. Would you mind if we continue?”
“Not at all.” I smiled.
A few seconds later, we strolled through streets featuring many neon signs advertising shops and restaurants. We stopped on a bridge, viewing people walking under them as the breeze ruffled our hair.
“It’s peaceful here.”
Pablo nodded. “It sure is.”
I remembered something that happened until I moved into this city.
I found myself on a bridge, leaning on the palms of my hands. Sun heated my back in the late afternoon, as I observed cute couples passing by, feeling sadness. I wiped my tears with the left hand, watching a ship leave.
Where do I even belong? Why does this keep happening to me? I’m just wondering... How would it be like holding hands with someone? Go on dates? Being with someone who loves you and you love him too?
My hair waved in the wind as I eyed upon the sky, and in some place, it was dark blue, it may storm.
I dislike storms. Why can’t I deal with these memories and stop feeling self-pity? Deal with it already, geez!
It doesn’t matter; they keep coming back! Throw the past behind and forget... forget everything. Start it all from the beginning. You don’t need anyone’s help, girl. You can make it on your own. They would only keep me somewhere and say I am crazy or hate me. I must deal with my problems and what happened in the past alone.
At this time, I used to have shorter hair, including cheek length forelock covering the left side of my face and left eye. I smiled bravely, feeling a bit gloomy. “I’ll deal with it on my own,” I said quietly and turned aside from the bridge with a smile.
[Flashback - A Couple of days later]:
I couldn’t sleep the whole night, being very awake and staring at the ceiling, checking social media most of the time. I thought I’ve returned to my usual self suddenly – the person who couldn’t sleep, motivated, knowing she can do anything in the world. Nothing could stop her, and she refused to let anyone stop her, making a ton of reckless decisions.
This night was very long; I wished for the night to be over. I already exercised, cooked, played a game on my phone, took a bath, and ran around the room in the night. I sighed. Am I returning to my usual self again? I don’t feel that sad as I did before, something’s strange.
I woke up at four o’clock and sauntered to the cooked curry on the kitchen counter. I’m not hungry, but maybe I could take a spoon.
I found myself very depressed before, after what has happened to her. Nothing helped; today is another day, though.
I took the curry and sat on a sofa, placing the spoon in my mouth. It tasted terrible, and I spat it. “Eww! I screwed this up.”
I threw the rest of the curry from the plate in the trashbin and began washing the dishes. What should I do today? I’m full of ideas! I could change my clothes.
And the clothing style. Go shopping, change all the furniture. Move away and to a new school...
My eyes brightened as I took a deep breath, gazing at myself in front of a mirror. It’s a time for a change.
Everything that happened to me... I’ll start all over. A new life, a new everything! I feel very motivated. I can do anything. Today I can do absolutely anything and everything.
I went through my sketchbooks, photos of myself and the girl, a ton of unused papers, books, and magazines, placing them in a few boxes I discovered. Silence occurring in the apartment because the person I shared it with disappeared. People are here, and in another second, they disappear. And can’t be brought back. I decided not to cry over her death today. Even if it hurt so terribly, I can’t return the person I loved from dying. Nor him.
The boxes reminded me of him; he left them behind. I continued cleaning the apartment and placing the stuff in the boxes. I made a blog about selling the condo on a blog of a few different cities and groups I was in. Taking my wallet, I made my way to the hair salon.
Most of the time, I thought life doesn’t have a meaning if the person I loved is not here. And sometimes, I didn’t take care of myself.
The person I lived with reminded me. Only because of him, I took baths, showers, and ate food. I neglected myself a lot, not caring. As a result, my hair grew from short to medium and then long.
I thought of using it to my advantage and do something with my long hair. What hairstyle should I get? Doesn’t cut your hair means the start of something new? No? I have a hunch I’ve heard it somewhere. And since I plan a new beginning, I know what I have to do. Besides, people in this city hate me for what I did. And he died a couple of days ago.
I walked out of the bus to another city (previously I used a train) and saw a girl with long black hair. She had bangs and pluralized forelock on each side of her face. Seeing the girl gave me an idea.
The hairstylist asked me what do I want, and I described the hairstyle.
“You must mean the hime cut.”
“The hime cut?” I asked, confused.
“Yes, this one, right?” The hairstyle showed me a picture of the haircut I wanted.
“Yes! Exactly like that!”
“Alright. And do you want me to dye your hair in black?” she asked. “They don’t accept dissimilar colors, usually.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll find a school that takes me in!” I smiled. The hairstylist cut my long bangs, which kept getting in my face, divided the hair into strands, and placed two of them in front. One on each, so now hair strands covered my breasts.
“Do you want the hair straightening too?”
“For a week or permanent?”
“For a week will be fine.”
The hairstylist straightened my hair (Japanese hair straightening is for treating the hair or making wavy or curly hair straight). At the moment I saw myself in the mirror, it raised a big smile on my face. “This looks great!” I gasped. “Thanks so much!”
I gave the hairstylist the money and walked out of the shop, feeling confident. I’ll move away, and sooner, nobody will recognize me. I’ll start all over in a city where nobody will know me.
I came home and checked my phone. Some people were interested in buying the flat already. I searched for cities, far aside from the town I lived in right now, and found a town named ‘Nightland.’ It caught my attention, mostly because of the name. I noticed a white house and immediately wrote I’m interested.
I bought a suitcase from the money I received, taking as many things from the boxes as possible. The rest of the stuff went in my pockets and backpack. It was heavy, and I’ve had to leave some items behind.
I strolled to the bus station, taking a bus, and then arrived at a train station.
The way lasted two hours by bus and four by train. I felt hyperactive, wagging on my seat, listening to music, biting my nails, watching my favorite tv shows, movie, and talking with some passengers who sat beside me or on the opposite side.
At the time I finally arrived at the Nightland train station, I exhaled and smiled. I used a map for getting to the house; the seller agreed I can move right now. The house was full of my stuff. I examined the apartment and then decided to shop. “This apartment already has furniture, which is great. I sold all of my furniture and then the house. Separately. I’ll make it here as comfy as possible!”
I spent a ton of money carelessly on unnecessary objects, home decorations, windows, feeling as if I can do absolutely anything. I couldn’t stop, and people looked at me as if I am crazy. What suddenly went into me? Mainly people in the city I lived previously.
Regardless, I knew they also feel relieved, knowing the monster is finally gone. The people don’t have to worry about me attacking anyone else. They think I’ve gone berserk after the accident. Maybe I have.