苦痛を止めて下さい！
“初めまして。。。“
The girl lay there on her knees in a ever growing pool of blood. The dark red circle spread out underneath her like an ominous shadow obscuring the floor beneath her. She lay there whimpering, crying, and struggling to catch her breath in that horrible puddle into which her very life was pouring. Her tears fell from her face as if a black ink ran from her very eyes; every single drop bringing that dark pool closer and closer to his feet. He stood there entranced, fixated on the dark figure before him, hunched over in agony.
He pondered for a moment what to do in this situation. This place was unfamiliar to him; the walls were obscured by a dust that hung in the air, a kind of fuzziness that dulled even his very ability to perceive the world around him. As he fought through that fog, trying desperately to find some kind of landmark to hell him where he was he heard the voice gurgle as clear as day…
“苦痛を止めて下さい…”The words fell on his ears like twisted blossoms from an old cherry tree.
“I don’t understand….” He struggled violently against the choking mist that surrounded him, ever thicker, heavier. The figure just lay there… silent now as if until now the man’s presence had been a mystery. The only sound that now filled the shrouded room was the harsh dripping of her tears, one after another striking the floor around her. The dark pool began to flood the room, drawing ever closer to his feet. He tried to step back, but had difficulty pushing his way through the thick gray mist that now swirled about him.
He began to panic. He thrashing only made him more and more entangled in the darkness that now desperately clung to him, choking him, driving him down to the ground. He fought it as hard as he could but, it was to no avail. He could hardly keep his feet as that horrible black pool came closer and closer to him with every drop of the poor girl’s tears.
She lay there with her black hair covering her face, the matted black mass that covered most of her form, obscuring her face and body from his view. She supported herself heavily on arms covered in scars and cuts, both fresh and old. She shakily pulled herself forward in an awkward lurch that sent shivers down his spine. Her cries began to echo off of the very air that surrounded him.
The pool was only drops away from his feet now, he staggered backwards only to fall to his knees. He collapsed heavily on the hard cold floor beneath him. Even his breath came difficultly to him now. He strove desperately to keep his mind focused, pushing against the dark swirling fog that was weighing upon his very being. The blackness moved closer to him now. Every drop now seemed to be the one that would bring that dark pool crashing down upon him. He could only sit and wait.
Drop. How did he get here? Drop. Where was this place? Drop. Who was this girl? Drop. Why? Drop. Why? Drop. WHY!? He screamed it out his eyes snapping wide open. Before him the figure rose suddenly and flung itself toward him. As that grim face came into view his eyes opened in horror and as he cried out in terror he was muffled by the screams of pure tortured that echoed out of that twisted, tormented throat that seemed to take the very life from him.
He flung himself upright screaming out into the night. The face still burned into his eyes. How could he ever forget it? The soft white flesh was torn to shreds and hung about her soft lips that were curled back over a twisted mouth. He shook the image clear of his mind. As he opened his eyes he could still see the dim figure lying before him on the ground whimpering to itself softly. He closed his eyes tightly before opening them again. Finally it seemed, he had shaken free from her grasp.
The cold night air filled his room from a single open window on the far side of the room. The soft summer’s night breeze made the windows white curtains dance wistfully. They flowed silently across his room, one of them acting as though it swirled over some unseen form, standing there before the window, gazing out into the illuminated night impatiently.
He felt something cold and wet run down his arm. He glanced down to find blood running down it from a fresh wound that was scarred deep into his flesh. His bare arm was riddled with misshapen scars that carved out crude figures that he did not understand. Only one could he recognize from a tattoo his friend once had and that was “復讐” The word for “vengeance.”
He slowly unbound the long white bandage that was wound around his arm form his shoulder down to the top of his hand. With each layer that came undone another line of scars became visible; each one a foreign idea, each one an incomprehensible puzzle. Every time he unwrapped his arm he struggled to find meaning in twisted figures. Inexplicable as they were he struggled even further with the fact that they only enveloped his entire right arm and nothing else.
On the night he had his first nightmare a single mark had appeared and every night after the same twisted dream about the crying girl lying in a pool of her own blood left another bloody scar on his arm. He could not understand why. How could he? Now as the final wrapping fell his entire arm was bleeding as if each mark had been carved anew, the blood ran down his arm and formed a small pool on the sheets of his bed. He watched it for a moment, watched is patiently as it grew, and clenched his fist tightly to fight the pain that shot through his arm driving him to the edge of his sanity.
He leaned across the bed and dug out a fresh roll of gauze and methodically re-wrapped his arm in fresh bandage. He tied it tightly across his shoulder and as he checked the fight by bending his arm quickly he caught a glimpse of her again out of the corner of his eye. She stood there, her face cast down upon the floor. As his focus swung to where she was standing she was gone. He knew she would not wait so patiently much longer.
“Alright… I am coming already!” He swung his legs around and stood up shakily, his body weak from sleep. He glanced at the clock “Well thank you ever so much for letting me sleep in tonight… it was ever so gracious of you.” He picked up the digital clock with its red lights flashing a mocking 12:00 at him. He shrugged lightly and casually threw the piece against the wall shattering its cheap plastic casing. “I don’t even know why I bother having one of these anymore, seriously.”
The floor was strewn with his clothes from work, casually discarded as he had staggered his way to bed earlier that evening. He kicked them aside and strode over to the closet. He slid the doors open and rummaged around for a moment before producing a pair of black pants and a black tank top. He slid the pants on balancing carefully on one leg and then the other. The tank slid on, a tad bit on the tight side, serving only to accentuate the now growing set of muscles his nightly endeavors had been affording him.
He found his way over to his dresser, and to his cigarettes. He pulled one out and light it up casually with a single practiced move; letting his silver Zippo lighter burn for a moment as he watched the flame dance excitedly in the pitch blackness of his room, as if desperate to fend off the darkness that would envelope it. He flipped it shut suddenly and took a long deep draw on his cigarette. As he exhaled the smoke broke across the air as if an unseen face was silently approaching where he was now resting. He didn’t need anymore prompting than that.
With a practiced flip he flung his cigarette butt out the open window and pulled a long sleeve black shirt on over his head and grabbed his black scarf off of the weathered coat rack nailed to the wall by his door. He wrapped it tightly across his face obscuring it from view before finally wrapping it across his forehead and tying it tightly behind his head.
“I suppose we shall be off now then eh?” As if showing approval the window behind him slammed shut suddenly and the room fell completely silent. “At least you understand that….”
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