“What’s wrong honey?” My mum called as I slammed the door shut and leant against it. Of course, the annoying trait of, ‘Act like nothing happened,’ Appears, the argument yesterday can’t be brought back up.
“Nothing.” I squeaked, wondering how I’m going to explain the missing bag and grazed hands.
I’m not fit enough to run all the way back home. I had to slow to a walk a few… Like eight… Minutes back and got my breath back and heart rate down. Scarcely, after my nerves had calmed, the doorbell rang
Was it that man?
Or worse that dog?
Ok, I’m over thinking it, how can a dog ring the doorbell?
I peeked out of the eyehole in the door, something I never do. No one is there.
Cautiously I cracked open the door, on the doorstep unexpectedly stood my satchel.
“Who is it?” My mum asked walking into the hall, just as I snatched up my bag.
“Umm no one… I left my bag at school. Someone must have dropped it off.” I lied.
Lying isn’t a thing that came naturally to me. There were probably a million holes in the one I had just told. I have to beat down any tell tale I have but I can’t hide the shiver I get when I lie. One good thing about the uniform is that the black blazer manages to hide any little movement.
“You’ll have to find out who delivered it and thank them. Dinner will be ready soon.” She smiled leaving me to walk up to my room. I dug through my bag as soon as I got into my room. I didn’t have anything in here anyone would want to steal. I didn’t think I’d be so happy to leave my iPad at home.
One good thing, nothing is missing from my bag. However, tucked in one of my books is a note on heavy parchment paper, what’s wrong with average lined paper?
The man wanted to talk, he didn’t sign his name and he only left the letter T at the bottom of the message. I’ll start signing my name, “A,” Right? Then I can look like I’m in the same class as someone who can afford to use expensive parchment paper, know calligraphy and can stare down an angry dog.
I have Dark and Mysterious Guy stalking me and now Posh Man has appeared. Where do I officially announce I don’t want to be apart of this world they are creating? I particularly want to know before this obsession goes onto the human sacrifice level, or even animal sacrifice level.
It’s spaghetti night, which I didn’t mind. It’s the conversations my mum would ensue throughout dinner I minded, tonight.
There is no way to get out of this.
If I ate too quickly, she would get suspicious.
If I didn’t eat enough, suspicious.
If I called down saying I would eat later, suspicious.
My mother should join the police, or create her own business, training other mothers her ways, that way their sons and daughters can’t get away with anything. I felt annoyed, wondering if other daughters got this and that’s when the light bulb in my room decided to blow.
“MUM! The light bulb’s blown again!” I shouted figuring I might as well go down. The light bulb thing is a common thing… Yet my mum doesn’t get suspicious about that.
“We are going to have to start using candles in your room,” She joked, once I got into the room, only she sighed disappointedly after. Now I’m getting suspicious. My mum shrugged it off leading me to the table, in the dining room.
“How was school?” She finally asked a few minutes in.
“It was fine.” That is true, it’s what happened after school that was the main issue. I’m not even going to mention what happened this morning on my free period, the only reason the lie didn’t show was because I’m convincing myself that if it’s outside the school walls, not the fence, it’s not actually school.
“Just, ‘Fine?’ Were Yuuki or Sophia there?” Yes and the guy you are trying to keep me from.
“Oh yeah. Sophia was there in the morning. Yuuki was there all day, apparently she’s going home to a fire breathing chicken.”
“The real name for that is Basan, it’s a bird in Japanese folklore.” Of course she would know the name of it.
“Yeah I figured it isn’t real.”
“It doesn’t hurt to believe some of the stories.” She smiled. I felt a bit too old to believe in those stories now. I gave an unsure smile back; from that she knew something is up.
“What’s wrong Alexa?”
“It’s nothing.” I lied shrinking back into the wooden chair and running my hand through my hair.
“Is it the nightmares again?” She guessed.
“Yes… No. I don’t know.” I muttered, gripping my hair at the roots.
Since I was fourteen I’ve had nightmares. I’m trapped in a red room; the bad part of the dream is all I can hear is screaming.
My mother would take me to see this sleep specialist, who’d help for a while, but as I got older it worked less and less. Lately, an intimidating dark figure had been appearing, that’s normally when I manage to wake up.
“I’ll see if I can contact Solomon.” She said in a hurry. Solomon is the sleep doctor; Yuuki, who isn’t one of his patients, gave him the nickname Somnia.
“He doesn’t work anymore!” I announced before she could walk out of the doorframe. Realising I could have been mistaken for, ‘He doesn’t work anymore’- as in ‘I know he’s lost his job.’ Or it could just be me who makes that connection. “I’ve been having the nightmare for months, he can’t get in my head anymore,” I sighed going back to torturing my hair follicles.
“Oh no.” She gasped and began muttering more things that were too quiet for me to hear. She disappeared for what felt like half an hour then rushed back in.
“I’ve got to go out, I’ve invited Sophia over. She’ll call you when she is at the door. Do not open the door for anyone but her.” She ordered struggling to put her emerald green coat on. I wanted to ask why she is acting like the world is going to end, but she seemed more determined to get out.
Once she got out I began the internal argument whether, I’m going to clean the dinner table or just collapse onto the sofa. In the end, I figured my mum wouldn’t be too happy having guests over when the table still has half eaten food on it.
I finally got to the collapse on the sofa part, my phone rang and the doorbell rang. Glancing at the caller ID I ignored it, just heading straight to the door and knocking out the middleman.
“Hi, I’ve brought snacks.” Sophia announced. She came in holding up a bag of chocolate covered pretzels and chilli tortilla chips. “I would have brought Yuuki but it looked as if she was chasing a Basan around her garden,” Sophia shrugged.
Athena is Sophia’s aunt; in a way we were both tortured into getting high IQ’s. Only Sophia got the childhood and education that didn’t damage her imagination or question to believe.
“Movie time.” Sophia declared and I got led into my own living room. Finally, got to collapse on the sofa. We ended up watching some chick flick; the sort of movie Athena disapproves of- she thinks we will take the girls in them as role models. Athena doesn’t know in Sophia’s sociology assignment she chose to study those plastic clique type girls.
“My mum talked to you right? Did she say where she’s going?” I questioned as Sophia took the movie out of the player.
“No, she only said to come over and keep you occupied.”
In other words, Sophia is my babysitter. Will it be classed as immature if I threw away my dignity and had a childish strop?
“I’m fine on my own. You don’t have to stop the whole night, because she said so.”
“I’m not going. If something happens, the first thing I want you to hear, is me telling you, ‘I told you so,’ I can’t do that if I’m not here or you’ve been kidnapped.”
“Who kidnaps someone, who is not a child, from their own home? Isn’t the chances they will murder me and leave me higher?” I cannot be classed as child, even if height and size were never on my side. I am the blonde 5”4’ female who only seemed tall because Yuuki’s inches high Lolita shoes were that obvious, you knew she had to rival my size.
“And murder is a better option?”
“Depends how they murder me. I’m not a fan of how any of the asphyxiation deaths look.” Sophia gazed at me in horror.
“I’m telling your mum to unsubscribe to the crime channels. Chances are you’ll be plotting murder next… Can’t wait to see your face on crime watch,” She laughed.
“Then I will download the episodes or buy the box set.”
“Didn’t your mum set a limit on your download and media buying?”
I grumbled agreeing, scraping my hair back only to remember I’m trying to teach myself not to pull my hair.
“Oh, so you know. Yuuki has signed you up to pack her, “Super happy, ‘I’ll miss you, but the chances are it will be one less face off my dart board’-,” And that isn’t even the official name, – “End of year goodie bags tomorrow.”
Yuuki’s happy-hate goodie bags, is one last chance for her to rub it in all the, “Normal,” kids noses. I think Yuuki puts the happy and the, “Implied hate,” in, I put the actual hate in because she plays manager while I pack them. Even with, her weird style, the truth is if they versed Yuuki at anything, chances are she would win and her ultra hyper view on life added backflips to the performance.
I groaned slumping in the sofa. I would be spending lunchtime inside putting, expensive, gifts into bags. Not exactly my idea of fun.
“This was going to be a surprise but she’s dragging you and me out shopping, you’ll need to bring some spare clothes.”
“She’s dragging us out, so she can buy more glittery nail polish and to stare at the cocktail bar guy in that restaurant.” I summed up.
“Yeah. You never know, she might bring the fire breathing chicken. That’s always a good conversation starter.”
“And I would love to see the forensic report explaining how the fire started with that.”
“Nope they have a special division if something like that happens,” She said leaving me questioning, if she’s being sarcastic or implying there is some sort of MIB, Area 51 type thing that deals with mythological mishaps. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if the police had set up a special division to be on hand to clear up some of Yuuki’s plans.
I looked at the clock on the wall figuring it is still early.
“Call Yuuki. Tomorrow’s outing is moving to tonight.” I announced jumping up; I needed the distraction from life.
“Why?” Although she seemed all for the plan, already skipping through her contact list.
“Because I’m packing her end of year goodie bags tomorrow. Last year she put one-kilogram weights in the bags. She always figures out a way to beat herself, chances are I will be suffering back pain after school tomorrow.” Or some injury, that will beat last year’s paper cuts.
“I’ll drag her out,” It wasn’t till she got on the phone I realised, aren’t I supposed to be stopping in tonight? Hopefully, if the whatever my mum was sorting out is anything like other times, I should be in be back in plenty of time before she got back.
I had to ignore the fact I had about half an hour before the official and strict curfew time.