Chapter 2: Chapter 2, White Haired Girl
"I had found her in the ocean, floating there without any sort of garm. I thought of her as perhaps a naiad, nereid, or siren.
As I fetched her sulking body from the inky plateau of water, I noticed her white hair and all of its pureness. Not a hint of a stain on it.
Though her back bruised with a deep brown, her hands furrowed with blisters and cuts, and her legs contorted in an in-numerable bunch of ways… the girl's hair and languid eyes were pristine."- The Girl From Elysium, Chapter 1; Lost Soul
Gotta hurry! I ran towards the door, laptop bag in hand and two shoes in the other. I heard toast crunching between my teeth, grunting with anxiousness.
Gotta hurry! Gotta hurry! I slid across my hallway, thinking of the murmuring of others while they waited for me. I was always late to this thing. Time after time again I was the last one there. My producer was embarrassed to the point where his eyes wouldn't meet anything besides the floor, the studio agents were aggravated, my coffee wasn't once hot, and I, like a child, walked in and asked what was wrong even if my stomach swelled with guilt and muscles twitched with trepidation.
I stumbled through the door while I buttoned up my shirt, trying to stop those memories from hitchhiking onto my train of thought. I swung my laptop bag over my shoulder near my backpack strap and sprinted down the hallway of the apartment complex with toast in-mouth.
I was in so much of a rush this morning that eating it wasn't a viable option. Heck, it wasn't even buttered or jammed. It was just a plain piece of toast; nothing sweet nor bitter about it.
Haijo is going to be so upset. I thought while practically skipping down a flight of stairs. My feet jumped from stair to stair as if they were hot coals. I didn't know how I would eat the toast. Everything was moving too fast for me to even catch a thought let alone munch down on something.
I dashed out the door of my apartment complex and almost ran straight into traffic before my feet came to a skidding stop; just in time for a bicyclist to pass.
He looked at me with stooped up irritation and a face that said, "Yeah, you better stop."
I shot him the same glare he shot me but with a hint of exhaustion and carelessness. My mind snapped back into the task at hand, ballooning my eyes wide with realization.
C-Crap! I don't have time to stand around and be annoyed! My legs bursted with animation as I veered to the left and ran straight.
I did feel bad for being late, I truly did. But my lack of proactive-ness killed any chance I had at being on time anywhere. Procrastination came with the phrase; "I have a couple more minutes."
And as easy as that, I would hit the snooze button, keep on watching TV, or stay in the shower.
I passed dozens of people as I sprinted by, hoping they wouldn't catch notice of my face or who I was. Some did. But because of the time crunch I gave them as I ran by, they could only feel puzzled. There wasn't any name shouting or crowding from the people I passed, just looks of awe and puzzlement.
I felt as if I was a paint brush swiveling my red ink across a painting. I slashed against the canvas of the people littered sidewalk, leaving a crimson scar in my wake. It drew everyone's attention away from the painting itself and to the red mark that I had left, leaving them confused yet enthralled by the weird paint splotch.
I ran down another flight of stairs. The wide stairwell burrowed its way into the earth, concreting its support so the hole it left could stay for a while. Metal rails separated people from going up and down the stairs. As for me, I was pulled into the stream of people flooding their way down into the stairway.
The entry was wide and vandalized with galvanizing art that popped with color and interest, like emotions were used as spray paint instead of… well, spray paint. The murals were bright and seemed to stare at you even if they didn't bear eyes. It always creeped me out how they had that effect. Yet I never tired of their neon colors that shroomed with freedom and rebellion. I always thought they were more creative than most, like other murals were mere imitations of what these ones were supposed to be. No other street artist had the essence that these paintings breathed with.
Yet a lot of people grew irritated and bugged by these wonders. They grew tired of them and thought of their vivid colors as eyesores. It was understandable; they were awfully bright.
I was finally released from the lake of people going down the stairs as I ripped free from the crowd. I breathed in the vast underground location… almost instantly regretting it.
The damp air fumed with smoke and a moist smell of rust that made my lungs ache with the taste of copper. It was to be expected though. I didn't know why I anticipated anything different than the underground subway that shared a similar atmosphere to a restroom. As always, Japan's subway station was neat and clean no matter how many feet walked upon its grounds.
Chatting filled the air. But not the type you'd find at a concert. These voices were touched by something dark and slow. Every voice was out of place like they didn't belong there but still stayed for the very same reason. They grumbled and murmured. My rush that I had gotten slowly died out as the surrounding crowd sponged it out of me as they passed by with their gloominess. I looked up at the train times and that was it… I had missed the second train by half an hour.
Not only that but now I was stuck in a subway full of people.
Now I'm definitely dead. Though the producers were nice and laid back, their time was precious and I ate away at it because of my arrogance and childishness.
Eating my toast, I stared at the ground with droopy eyelids. It was as though tiny weights pulled down on them. I was not only tired but anxious from the many people and their many eyes. Without any type of mask or hat, I would be swarmed by people and the flashings of their phones' cameras in minutes.
As people gushed in and out of trains like bees, grey colors were painted over them… like bundles of blurred faces looking at me. They saw my face yet didn't know whether it was really me.
My eyes pondered their surroundings, wondering if anyone else had caught notice. Yet… nothing.
Though, I should feel at least giddy about my change of luck, I could only see the reason why they were oh so disinterested in me. The problems of their world ate away at them as if vultures to a dead carcass. The gloom greyed the air, leaking from the negativity of all the people around me. Though cleanly, the aura of everything was nothing short of distraught. A wife yelling at her husband, a homeless man playing a broken guitar, kids seeming way too young to be traveling by themselves, businessmen who look worn out beyond comprehension, and teenagers whose' eyes were sulked and baggy from the weariness of school.
I felt like I was the only one alive in this pastel painting.
As more time passed, the people around me only got blurrier and blurrier until the point of unrecognition. Muddled and smudged were the scraped out faces. They kept their gaze on me for as long as their stringed hooks of eyes could extend.
I felt like I had endless stalkers creeping around me, tilting their heads in wonder as they stared me down with an unrelenting gaze full of emotion yet holding none at all.
As the trains flew by like long arrows, they made a loud groan of burnt workings. They roared with their power and speed, boasting their own air-breaking capacity.
As my legs grew tired sore from standing, I sat on the bench behind me. I could feel the hard pieces of metal pushing against myself. They had holes in the metal benches so if they ever got wet, they wouldn't stay that way. Yet how much it felt like I was sitting on a mass of rubber-glazed marbles.
I let my backpack off my shoulder and cranked both of my arms back a couple times to get rid of the compacted soreness that caused my torso to feel stiff and tight.
I looked to my grey-pack and ran my hands against its smooth yet vibrating pattern. Though it was as smooth as can be, I could still feel the roughness of the material, like tiny tiny fish scales.
I ran my hands down to one of the pockets of my backpack and I pulled out earbuds. I connected them to my phone and clasped them into my ears.
As my music started to fade in, the world dripped away like a painting melting off its canvas. The music got louder and louder till the clattering and clomping of shoes against the cement-tiled floor started to flush away into a void of a world without sound.
My music flooded into my ears and caused the world to change colors!
As the grey of the slow-moving, rambunctiously loud world mixed with the melodies upon my buds… everything started to flourish into a blue, water painting. Feelings filled with a calm, graced energy distilled my body. The old, polluted station bloomed to life with Spring-like colors. The scratched out, blurry faces were replaced with shining yet dull smiles. Music had invaded my mind with its lyrical poems and sad but slacking rhythm.
Mid-song, my left earbud fell out, dangling while the intercoms echoed throughout the underground station. "–ease wait behind the yellow line as the train arrives."
My eyes grew wide as I realized that my train had made its way into the station. It was nothing short of miraculous that my earbud had jumped from my ear. If it didn't, who knows when my dazed eyes would've spot the train.
With haste, I gathered my things, got up from the bench and ever so speedily walked through the mundane train station so as to not miss my ride. Like a stream of water, people filtered through the lines and into the passenger car, I with it.
I wondered if I had left something behind. Knowing myself, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I left my head back there. But even if I had forgotten something, the wall of people behind me wouldn't let me out.
I looked around, taking in all of the languid people around me. The only sign of cheerfulness was in the little jingle that played over the intercoms. Like a melody straight out of an eight-bit fantasy video game, it trickled with cascading beeps, bleeps, and dings… somewhat reminding me of a familiar monster-catching RPG.
But no matter how nostalgic its rhythm was, I still placed my earbud back into its rightful place, my ear.
Without a second's notice, my body staggered to the side. It had been a long time since I'd been on a subway, I had forgotten how it felt when the train took off. Most of the time I would walk places, which within itself was a dangerous thing for me. Yet I didn't care much; I liked my walks.
I looked out the window, gazing at… well, nothing much.
The tunnels that the train traveled through seemed infinite, like the darkness was an unending spiral.
The darkness was quite surprising; with never knowing what was going to happen next and all.
Anything could happen in a split second in the darkness, whether it be a flash of light or a sudden crash. That's the thing with surprise. It's fast and could be the tiniest startlement or life changing. It could help or harm you. It was spontaneous and blinding, hiding what it holds.
In the end, surprise and darkness were one of the same to me, because neither could be controlled without some kind of information or light.
So when I looked out the window and saw that fast moving, draping curtain of darkness, I was looking at a surprise that could either match to my expectation or bloom into a whole other scenario. Yet the surprise I got was not in the darkness where I expected it the most… it came in the form of light itself.
Someone had yanked my earbud out. I jolted back with eyes full of confusion and dull awe, wondering who would've done such a thing as to ever so dastardly rip me away from my melodic mediation. My eyes met nothing but white until they fell a couple inches lower. A girl swung my wired earbud in a circle, staring at me with her eyes clenched shut by a gleaming grin that radiated with the definition of the word; mischievous.
Her hair was a snowy white yet gleamed like pearls. It seemed as though they were made from clouds from how silky and soft they appeared to be.
Her skin came into a close second when it came to pigmentation, for the girl was a milky white as though her flesh was made of paper.
Her eyelids were scrunched together along with her button nose. Those gates of eyelids kept my gaze out of hers.
"Hey." The white girl greeted in a simple, whimsical manner, still waving around the earbud like it was nobody's business. That one word; it sounded off for some reason, as though her voice was light as air and free as can be.
Yet even if I was caught off guard by her eccentric looks and silky voice, I was still never the more peeved at the girl who took away my music.
My brows furrowed as I grew nervous to talk, but even in my most wracked of nerves, I still found it in me to do so.
"Wh-Why did you do that? You shouldn't just pull out someone's earbud like that. At the very least, you could've tapped me or something."
My tone was quiet and rather timid, as if I was confronting my bully about stealing my lunch money. To be honest, it was somewhat sad to see that my so-called "bully" was a fragile-looking, white-haired girl who appeared to be a few inches shorter than me.
I held out my hand for the bud, impatiently waiting for the white-haired girl to give it back to me.
"True, but that wouldn't have been any fun." She admitted with a teaseful sneer. The white-haired girl swung my earbud 'round and 'round as if it was a propeller to a plane. She opened her eyes by the slightest while still holding onto that grin of hers. My own eyes widened as my jaw dropped in utter amusement. As my gaze met the girl's, my stomach turned to lead. Never had I ever thought I could feel so hollow yet so heavy all at the same time!
Those eyes…
They were stolen straight out of fiction. This thief of irises had eyes that were nothing more and nothing less than superlunary. I was dumbstruck! Simply dumbstruck! For the color of her eyes was a crystalline amber.
Brimming with karats, her irises were glossy and almost iridescent, as though whatever laid beyond them were ethereal. Though never seen, I felt as though I knew those eyes, like it was nothing short of deja vu from a repeating dream.
I struggled to figure out this complexity of gold and amber. Be as it may, these eyes held a hundred if not a thousand memories.
I sunk far too deep into those honeyed-pooled eyes of hers to even recognize the puzzled yet concerned expression she had now worn. With one eyebrow raised, she doubted me of my intelligence in whole, wondering if I was truly all the way "there"
The white-haired girl went as far as to even give me a little wave, trying to break me from my pensive trance.
"Hello?" She sing-songily called out. From me, not a peep. "Did you have a stroke?"
The girl flimsily whacked the side of my face with the earbud. I blinked in a stagger, shaking off the hypnosis that her eyes had hooked me into.
In a moment's notice, I remembered why the white-haired girl was here in the first place. Though her appearance was unique none the more bizarre, she was just like everyone else… just another fan of the idolized popstar Zero.
"Well?" I asked the girl, waiting for the awkward and uncomfortable conversation to begin. Yet as I waited, I was only greeted with a long pause and a confused look from the girl before me.
The tensity of awkwardness only grew as did the silence between the two of us. Her golden eyes flickered from side to side, as if she was searching for the answer herself.
"Well what?" The girl asked back.
My mind had hit a wall, wondering what she meant by "well what"
How was I to respond to that?
"Did you want to tell me something or ask me for anything? Questions? Hugs? Crying confessions?" I asked again, pointing out some things fans have asked me in the past. The rest of the passenger car looked at us like we were the oddest of people on the train, and in that sense, they wouldn't be wrong. Yet it wasn't amusement that filled their glances, it was discomfiture and surprise. The white-haired girl covered her mouth with pressed lips. Her eyes spelled concern yet her cheeks were rosy and stiff like she was trying not to smile or something. She looked as though she was on the verge of throwing up, like she was barely able to hold it in, but oddly enough… in a jovial sort of way.
Then, as I thought puke was going to rocket from her mouth, roaring laughter bursted from out of it instead. The white-haired girl held her stomach as if it ached. She laughed and laughed and laughed; her loud giggling seeming exasperated and the slightest bit exaggerated.
"Oh my gosh! What the hell was that!?" The girl questioned whilst still in mid-laugh, guffawing away at apparently… me.
I was so lost in, well, practically everything. This girl moved along so fast and seemed to let go of her cares as if they were just pretty flowers. They smelled nice, were oh so beauteous to the eye, yet she didn't have a need for the gorgeous flowers known as cares, for her loud laughter broke the reverence of the train tenfold.
"Why the heck would I ask for that stuff?" She asked with a tilt of her head, giving me the most dubious of smiles while doing so. My head gawked back. It seemed that we were both at a loss.
"Because that's why you're talking to me? Because I'm, you know, me. That's why you are talking to me… right?" I asked her in return.
Her face could only be explained in one sentence and one sentence only, "What the crap are you talking about?"
It was a bit irritating, her staring at me as if I was supposedly the arrogant one.
A slight smirk rose from her cheeks as her eyebrows furrowed. Bewilderment fumed from out of her eyes.
"I'mmm talking to you because you're cute. Or at least I thought so before you started acting all weird." The white-haired girl plainly admitted without any kind of guilt or embarrassment in sight. She just let that statement hangout like it was the perfect and most ordinary response ever.
Paroxysm gave me goosebumps and left my eyes wider than ever. Even without music blaring into my ears, the world around me went quiet. Like when you walk near a branch of birds and they stop chirping,i t just all felt silent; not even the rumbling and tinking of the rails of the train could be heard.
Wh-What?
"So… so. So you don't know who I am?" I asked her. I felt like at least one of us should've known what the living hell was going on, yet we both seemed to be in the dark, getting constantly surprised by it in many ways.
"Nope." the white-haired girl replied. "Am I supposed to know who you are?"
She wasn't swinging the earbud around anymore. Instead, she twiddled it between her fingers as if it was a strand of her long, white hair. I don't know why, but I was somewhat relieved yet peeved that she didn't know who I was. These opposite emotions bundled within me, and created a plume of frustration and distrust.
I blurted out "My name is Zero!"
My inner conscience had just facepalmed itself from my own stupidity.
I had often noticed my gestures and me just speaking in general was like a newly learned piano piece. I could imagine the composition in my head perfectly as if every note was set in place like a finished jigsaw puzzle… then I would try to play that composition of a puzzle and the notes would flee from my grasp.
I would hit the wrong key and stumble upon the notes and protrude a sound that could only be compared to falling down a musical flight of stairs.
Like the failed piano piece, when words came out of my mouth, I pressed the incorrect key and stuttered or said the wrong word entirely.
I had noticed it with my actions too. For surely I was the physical embodiment of what someone learning a piano piece sounded like; with errors, bad timing, and tripping over the wrong notes as if the pianist couldn't keep their fingers' balance.
The girl's eyes were full of curiosity as I shouted my name. She merely couldn't believe that I was who I blathered.
"W-Well, I might've maybe thought… you know, you're just a fan or something…" I ever so blatantly told her as if to return the simplicity of her calling me cute.
Her pale expression merely grew more concerned, like the words that flew out of my mouth were just irrefutably silly at this point… because in all honesty, they probably were.
"You're joking, right? I mean, I don't really listen to your 'supposed' music. My friends do, and I've overheard. But I never really got into quote unquote… you." The girl retaliated.
With hesitancy and timidness to spare, I answered. "N-No, I'm not joking…"
A small jingle played over the intercoms as the train doors slid open. Hurriedly, some passengers left while others walked aboard.
"Huh. Well, does someone like you go to high school?" The girl questioned. Her eyes were filled with a honey gold color of curiosity and doubt as though she didn't believe me but was too trusting not to.
High school..?
Like I was cured of amnesia, my mind was struck by nightmares of memories as that word ruptured through my person. I was twenty so my high school days were long behind me or they would be if I went.
But still… it still haunted me oh so vivaciously.
Back then, I was already declared to have a gift, a savant of all instruments alike. I remember the pain of the old me. Just thinking about high school brought him the slightest breath.
He was apathy incarnated, a being shrouded by illness and eyes so dull yet evermore insightful. I tried to bury the past, indulging in what I would call growing up.
Yet, at this second, I found the old Zero crawling out from the grave of my mind.
"There wasn't any point in me going to high school. I didn't have anything to learn and besides… I'm already alive." I uttered, looking down at her with dead, fish-dull eyes that counteracted with what I said.
I could tell it sent a shiver down her spine, these plain eyes of mine. They blocked off the rest of the world from showing any emotion.
Perhaps that was why I had so much built up inside my head in the past; because my eyes didn't work.
The girl's face contorted to a frown, not exactly understanding what I meant by that. Her lips puckered and her brows dropped as she looked at me dead in the eye.
"Alive? Sorry to break it to you, but I'm alive too. So are all of my friends. And guess what, we're all in school. Literally everyone is alive, Mr. Popstar." The white-haired girl spat back at me, air-quoting "Popstar" as she did so.
Her voice was so full of confidence and vigor, or perverse at the very most. This girl beckoned and pestered the old Zero, spiting him with her sharp tongue.
She doesn't get it.
Breaking the staring contest between the two of us as I slowly tore away my dry gaze and looked upon the windows of the train, I told her, "Everyone here is merely existing. What I have done with my time and life, that is living. And until you figure out what you are, you'll just continue to exist in high school."
The outside view was too fast and blurry, it was like watching a video ten times the speed you're supposed to. I could catch glimpses but it wouldn't ever be enough to put together the scenery that nature had to offer.
The look on the girl's face though, now that was priceless. I caught it at the edge of my view. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open with embittered bewilderment, like I just told her that her God was a lie or something.
If it didn't sound like I was bragging and saying I was better… it definitely seemed like it now.
She let out a scoff and before I knew it, she finally let go of my earbud. Her hands clasped the sides of my face, jerking my gaze back down to hers.
"I don't have to be a popstar or a big time wholesome hotshot like you to be alive!" The girl exclaimed, her eyes narrow and those gold irises filled with a smoldering fire of yellow.
"I don't need to have fans or people telling me I'm great for me to know I'm alive, I don't need a natural talent to know I'm alive, and I for sure as Hell don't need a tall, slinky-lookin' boy spilling such utter nonsense!"
… I was… I was astonished. My eyes lost their benumbed looks as I was brought back to reality.
There was a long pause as the same expression she once wore smoothed itself out onto my face; complete and utter shock.
At this point, we had EVERYONE'S attention. They were all staring at us with awe and startelement. They couldn't believe her ironclad vigor either.
"Well? Do you have anything to say to that, Mr. Popstar?" The white-haired girl asked as she let go of my face and whipped her hair behind herself. I honestly did. I had A LOT to say to this girl.
But… but I found my voice was stuck. I couldn't spew out a single sound. My throat felt like a water balloon about to pop with words, yet I couldn't spit it out. My lips were sealed and my voice was glued to the back of my throat.
In the midst of my scared expression, she noticed how startled I was. Worry soon started to spread throughout the white-haired girl's body, I could tell.
I wish I could say words, but my mouth still wouldn't let me… I looked like a scared little puppy, staring at the girl with my glistening, normal eyes.
"W-well, now we're even." she said with a somewhat awkward smile. Her eyes closed as her grin pushed her eyelids shut once more.
"You got me and I got you. So now we're even." The white-haired girl assured with a nod of her head.
But still, nothing. My voice couldn't even protrude a single hum.
"H-Hey, you can talk now, I won't bite!" She teased. A drip of sweat was streaming its way down her forehead. I could tell she felt bad and guilty. Like, she wanted to get her point across, but she thought it went through its target and hit home and worked a little too well.
"Uh… Uhh, So…" the girl gulped as she leaned closer to me. She looked off to the side, looking as if she was distracting herself from whatever she was about to do. Her uncomfortable gaze sure made it seem that way. Huh? What is she doing?
Even for me, this was unusual behavior.
"Sorry." The girl said as her arms collapsed into a hug around me, patting my back awkwardly.
Huh? Wh-Wh-Wh-What…
The aura of uncomfortable awkwardness chiseled its way through my nerves like spikes thrashing into my stony heart. Her arms had mine trapped to the side. Not only that, but she tried to keep her distance while hugging me, making it ten times more awkward than it already was.
Her face spelled awkward in so many different ways. It was so bad, she almost looked like a middle-aged man with how her facial muscles had contorted from the cringed intensity.
Huh? Wh-Wh-Wh-What- "Wh-What are you doing!?" I asked her as I broke free from the most embarrassing, awkward, weird, cringy hug I had ever received!
In a sputtering jumble of words, she responded, "I-I felt bad and didn't know what to do and I panicked and I was thinking what always makes me feel better when I'm sad! And I'm like; Hugs! So I gave you a hug because I felt bad for making you feel all wimpy and embarrassed…"
WHAT.
Such absurdity this oddity of a girl was! I couldn't figure her out. She quite literally dumbfounded me and filled my brain with a high of curiosity.
"I wasn't embarrassed!" I retaliated in such an apprehensive way, that I raised my voice to something besides the mic for once. I didn't usually shout unless I was pouring it into music. So something about this peculiar, white-haired girl had pried out emotions that had never been brought out before.
"Oh please! You looked like a little puppy that was afraid of getting kicked again!" She countered, making a puppy face while putting her hands up to her chin like she was a begging dog. She even quivered her lip and made her eyes all big. Her facial expressions soon changed to ones of a "Duh" look.
She had me beat two times, a feat not many people say they have done. Before the two of us could enter another quarrel, a jingle interrupted us yet again.
"Shinbashi, Minato" An electronic voice buzzed through the intercoms as the train came to a slow but abrupt stop. Our gazes were broken from one another as the girl's golden eyes stared out the window. The doors slid open and people started bustling out of the loaded car once more, rushing out of there as though they were afraid of something inside of it.
A sigh emitted from the white-haired girl as if she was displeased with the announcement.
"This is my stop, Mr. Popstar. I hope I didn't scare you too much." The girl told me as she leaned closer to me. Her heels lifted up into the air as she tip-toed her way up to my face. Then, she put her index finger on my nose, and lightly tapped it with a smirk. "Bye!"
My cheeks felt clustered with tiny roses that oozed with a cerise feeling "Buh-Bye." She told me. Everything seemed to slow and quiet down as her eyes broke contact from mine once again.
The girl turned around to get out of the train before the doors shut, and nothing could feel closer to an eternity than the moment at hand. This small frame of time felt longer than the actual seconds that were ticking away, leaving my mind bumbling with a thousand thoughts. I looked down at her shoes and glued my vision to those glossy, brown oxford loafers of hers as she walked out. The click of her heels echoed through my head, bouncing around it like a sound being repeated over and over, echoing deep into the Chambers of my mind.
I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes closed, giving myself temporary crow's feet as I tried to block out the keen noise. My teeth gritted as I locked my jaws into one another.
Seriously?
I was this frustrated with myself, but I hadn't a clue why.
The white-haired girl looked back at me as the doors closed, and a concerned smile crept upon her face. The gold of her eyes were half full of worry and distraught while her smile seemed a little sad, but pulled up by an iota of hope.
As the train started moving, I caught a glimpse of her staring at the car I was in while it zoomed into the darkness of the tunnels. Most people would brush off such a weird encounter and maybe even call it annoying. But what had just happened was, yes, somewhat annoying, but it was also peculiar.
As the movement of the train yanked me out of my euphoria, I sat down in a vacant seat, holding onto the railing as my head dripped towards the ground. I stared at the metal diamond shapes that marched upon the floor like an army.
My body swung back and forth and shot up and down as my train ride continued. It was full of little ticks in the tracks, but it was also calm and soothing. Not smooth or slender, but like gentle, sharp edges of a heart monitor zig zagging up and down. Kinda like my heart was… zig zagging up and down.
I don't think I can do this meeting anymore.
Today was already oh so eventful, I didn't need more questions being shoved down my throat. I don't know why, but the more I thought about it, the more I somewhat envied that girl.
Why am I so upset? I looked to my hand. Was it because I had been proven wrong?
That wasn't it. I had been beaten to the ground by many many people in my life. They had said much worse too… but I proved them wrong.
My thoughts were nothing short of a plethora and all were questioning and theorizing. Yet in all the complexities of my mind, one thought overcame them all… Who was she?
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone