January 10th,20xx
~Even the silence has something it wants to convey~
Dear diary,
The familiar smell of blood filled my nose this morning. On opening my eyes, I found red trailing down my hands. Drip, drip, drip. It fell down in small drops on the floor, dying a part of the marble floor bright red.
I had pierced my nails into my skin again. The same dream echoing in my mind, every night, every day. Those sapphire eyes had carved itself in my memories, refusing to let go even after years.
That's right. I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Yui. Just Yui. A simple girl living a simple life. There isn't much to tell about myself. I'm a human trying to make the best of life. Or so I tell myself.
There are still days when I wake up feeling lost. As if my mind had already given up the task of listening to me. I stare blankly at the wall in front of me for some time, till a knock on the door breaks the silence.
Today was the same as yesterday. I take a fresh canvas out of the store room, and my hands move on their own, as if eager to wipe out the traces of this morning's dreams.
Each stroke and brush colours the canvas in dull colours. Pink, blue and yellow swirls cover the canvas, suffocating the original white.
Just like my dreams suffocate me.
Diary, do you know? Even I used to have pleasant dreams. Sure, I had problems in school, but which mute child hadn't ?
Born an orphan, I was brought up in an orphanage. I never had friends. All of them were scared by my hand gestures. I couldn't speak, so I desperately used my hands and face to express my wish to be friends with them.
What a joke.
I was only making a fool of myself.
Even after I grew up, the same whispers broke out. "Hey, someone, be friends with her. I feel so bad for her." A girl said.
"Hah? Why don't you do it then?" A blonde said, placing her hands on her hips.
"N-no way. She's still creepy. I just wanted to speak up for her." The first girl shivered.
"Eww, if you like her so much, go be with her. I have no need of friends like you." The blonde wrinkled her nose.
I still remember the first girl's face when the blonde haired girl finished speaking. Fear, shock, regret and desperation. All of them were painted across her face.
"If you still want to stick to her, go ahead." The blonde said turning her back.
"Wait! No! I don't want to! Who wants to be with a mute?! Let's go." The girl said desperately, clinging to the blonde.
'I can still hear you know...' I wanted to say. Somehow, it felt as if a huge boulder had been placed on my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see. My eyes teared up and I fell down. I had my first anxiety attack.
But I moved on. Such mere matters no longer bears any importance.
If you could speak, you would probably ask, "What haunts you so much?"
To that, my only reply would be "I took a person's life."
• • • • • • • • •
February 10th, 20xx
~The darkness sings a lullaby to the lone~
Dear diary,
I hadn't mustered the courage to write in you again. So, this is certainly late.
'Scared of an inanimate object?'
That's right. I'm scared of hurting even an inanimate object. Isn't that why people run away from me?
Because I'm too wild.
Because I'm too quiet.
Because I'm a murderer.
The society is quite funny. They tell me that I'm fine, but once I'm gone, they mutter "Stay away from her, she's a killer.'
Such beautiful words. It makes me want to thank them for their generosity. After all, they took in a murderer like me, who wouldn't be in awe of their courage?
Murderer~
Yes, I'm a murderer.
I still remember the day clearly. Five years ago,13th of January, 11 pm, a clear sky, few stars. The day when I had my first kill.
Do I regret it?
If it were a normal human, they would say, 'Yes'. But for me, I would say 'Is taking a life, something regretful?'
Diary, tell me, am I horrible human?
I should be scared... Scared of my sin. But I'm not. That day, when my hands pierced a silver knife into his stomach, I found the sight beautiful. The blood staining his clothes, spreading quickly like fire. His sapphire blue eyes locked into mine, shock and confusion in them.
Even as he lay in a pool of blood, heart no longer beating, I kept staring, unable to tear my eyes away.
Ambulance? I would have called if I could speak.
It just meant that his death by my hands was fated.
Was he sad? Was he happy? Was he angry? Was he regretful?
Diary, do you know? I never got to know his name.
I'm still a coward after all.
• • • • • • • •
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March 10th,20xx
~Feeling the dark is one step away from being a part of the dark~
Dear Diary,
It's been another month. I gathered the guts to tell you about the first time I met him.
I was still in highschool. I had just become seventeen, the age where emotions ran wild. As usual, I stayed silent as the others made comments about me. Their criticising stares made the hole in my heart grow bigger and wider.
Each gaze ripped the new hope I had just made up. Like paper, it was torn into pieces, not meant to be restored ever again.
But in that suffocating place, my ears finally heard a voice. Unlike the others, there was no pity in them. No criticising tone.
In disbelief, I refused to meet his eyes.
'Can such a person even exist?' The thought ran back and fro in my mind.
After so many years, a smile finally crept on my face.
Just as I thought of going back home, his legs stopped in his track. I hesitated, doubtful whether to stop or move.
Deciding the latter, I move forward, weaving my way around him. That was when a warm hand clasped mine. I stumbled and almost fell,but was pulled into a strong embrace.
Never had I ever felt so in peace. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment. At the same time, my delusions were brought to an end by the stares of the people boring into my back.
"Are yo-" He started speaking, but I never got to hear what he wanted to say, because my legs ran like they got wings. Chest heaving, I calmed my wild heartbeat.
The rest of the day, I remained absent minded.
This seemed like the typical fairy tale one would read. Except life wasn't as happy as one. Each time it made me happy, it took something from me too.
This time wasn't any different.
I was too naive.
Just a day later, I was pulled into the girl's restroom, my struggles useless. The girls smirked seeing my efforts.
And there it was.
Life's way of reminding me about reality again.
I thought it would be like the usual. But I was wrong again. Instead of hitting me in places that couldn't be seen, they took out a pair of scissors.
My breath hitched in my throat.
If there was one thing I couldn't bear to part from, it was my hair. Silly, I know. But don't you have things you love too?
I flailed like a cat, looking fearfully at the pair of scissors. A girl spoke, "Stop moving dimwit. You make me sick. How dare you touch him with your filthy paws!?"
My heart sank.
So it's time already, huh?
And that's how it ended... My moment of happiness... It was short, and sweet but its after taste only made me regret. The rare smile that had appeared... Never showed up again.
My strangled cries rang through the bathroom. Snip, snip, snip. My hair fell around me in strands, a sea of strawberry blonde hair. I stared at those strands, a feeling of hopelessness seizing me.
Now only one long lock remained. A stomp on the stomach made me curl, but I clutched at the lock desperately. My mind screamed No, but my voice... Never came out.
"You're disgusting."
"Attention seeker."
"Useless dog."
"Spineless coward."
Diary, do you know? I didn't feel hurt hearing those words. Because they were true. Even now, the words I write with this blood red ink, are a proof of me accepting those words. Low self-esteem? No, that's not the case.
That day, I was taken to the hospital. I had fainted due to blood loss. From where the blood, you ask? From the cut I bore in protecting my hair.
Since then, I never saw him again. I never returned to school.
• • • • • • • • •
April 10th,20xx
~We cry not because we're sad, it's because we want others to know we're sad~
Dear Diary,
I finally managed to get up and write a little on you.
Do you know? I used to go to an art class. I wasn't hopeless at studies,but I wasn't good at it either.
My last option was, to be an artist. And that's what I pursued.
Why an artist, you would ask?
It's because behind every blank canvas, there's a need to be defiled. As a person with dirt filled in her entire being, I'm the best for that job.
You didn't laugh? It was my attempt at a joke. But I guess there isn't anything more funny than my existence. Another lame joke. Laugh, at least on the fact that it's so lame.
So, my first day at the art class was perfectly normal. Or so I would say but I don't want to lie to you too, Diary. You're worth more. The fact that I'm mute made many people sad.
They felt sad to the point that they made me covered with paint all over.
I didn't mind. I thought it was their way of welcoming me. So, I just stared back with a non-provocative expression. Unfortunately, my non-provocative face made them dissatisfied.
I still didn't mind.
My newly chopped hair caught the attention of a girl and she gave me a sympathetic smile.
I didn't smile back and just looked down.
Was there even any point? She'll be just like the others.
I think the reason why everyone was sad was because the art teacher praised my work.
What I had painted was simple. A girl standing on a cliff, looking as if she might jump off any moment. Her hair covered her face as the sun set behind her, bathing her with warm coloured light.
White robes billowed behind her, giving a feeling of aloofness.
Her hair was strawberry blonde... Just like mine.
Maybe I wished to be her.
• • • • • • • • •
May 10th,20xx
~Trusting someone means giving them a part of yourself~
Dear Diary,
It's been a month again.
I'm the same as ever.
But today, I wanted tell you something.
About my only ever friend.
Remember the girl who had given me a sympathetic smile? That's right, she became my friend. At first she didn't talk to me much, but then that day arrived.
I found her sniffling in the backstreet, her eyes filled with tears as they gazed at a torn canvas. And I immediately knew what had happened.
For the first time since years, I took the initiative to comfort someone.
She smiled.
I didn't. But my eyes said otherwise.
We took some time to adjust to each other. But slowly our bond grew deep. I gave her something very important... My trust.
I thought we were doing fine.
I thought she thought the same too.
I only wished this peace wouldn't be disturbed.
But Diary, do you know? Life couldn't bear to see me happy.
• • • • • • • • •
June 10th,20xx
~It's easy to break a bond, hard to make one~
Dear diary,
I'm back again. This time to reveal the truth.
My fate is cursed, or so I would say if I believed in that stuff.
A year later, I went to surprise my only friend on her birthday. I found a surprise instead.
Lying on the floor with a pool of blood, was none other than my only friend.
Yes, was.
Because she is no longer alive.
I heard later that she had been bullied constantly ever since she was a child. She wasn't mute like me, but was dyslexic.
But unlike me, she couldn't bear it.
And so, on that day, she ended her life.
I found a letter addressed to me. On it were written:
Yui-chan,
By the time you see this I'll probably be dead. I would apologise,but I won't. Because this wasn't my fault. I was tired, tired of the nonsense here.
You were a great help really, and I love you for that. But I hate you too.
Yours always,
Rin.
Why hate, you would ask? Because I was the reason why she was bullied more. My company only brought her trouble. Trouble and nothing else....
In the end, I'm still a loner.
Diary,do you know? I never went to visit her grave.
Now another dream joins my journey in the night. One where I see Rin laughing, her hands holding mine and then in the blink of an eye, her bloody face towers over mine. I wake up like always, drenched in sweat. Another sleepless night.
• • • • • • • • •
July 10th,20xx
~Love is a sickness, one that can't be rid off even after countless days, months and years~
Dear Diary,
It's been yet another month. I've moved on. Yes, I have. I finally went and visited Rin's grave.
It was just like her. Calm, clean and beautiful. Without a speck of dust, it beckoned me towards it, and my feet dragged me there. I won't lie, my hands were trembling so badly that I could hardly place the flowers there. Violet tulips now adorned the small grave and the carvings glowed slightly under the setting sun.
But that wasn't enough.
I did something bigger.
I went to visit his home.
And that was where I met his mother, for the second time. Her eyes widened in fury and sharp crack sounded throughout the alley.
My face whipped to the side because of her slap's force. Yet, I stayed quiet. His mother was beautiful. But her eyes and dull clothes showed how dreary she had become after her son's death.
She didn't know. She didn't know I was mute. That I couldn't speak. The first time we met was at the police station, where she screamed and cursed at me for staying silent.
This time wasn't any different either.
She did the same. But something felt different. This time she actually asked me why I wasn't speaking. To that I took out my notepad and wrote,"I'm sorry, I can't speak. I'm a mute."
She was shocked, that's for sure.
Reluctantly, she invited me in.
She was closed at the start but now, she just blabbed emotionally, about the boy.
The boy... His name was Roku.
She related everything. Everything about him. His past, his achievements, his antics.
Everything about him was so adorable and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him smiling in a picture.
Do you know Diary? I know his mom is doing this out of sympathy. After all, how can any normal person talk to their son's murderer?
When I heard about his non existent love life, a small smile crept on my face. I was smiling, again. He had already made me smile two times.
Diary, I think... I might be in love.
• • • • • • • • •
August 10th,20xx
~I'll fold a thousand paper cranes and make a wish- That I'll be able to find you each lifetime and fall in love with you again~
Dear Diary,
You already know, don't you?
I'm in love with a dead person. Ridiculous? Maybe. Foolish? Maybe. Lie? Certainly not.
I'm foolish and ridiculous.. But not a liar.
My love for him has reached a limit. And this limit cannot be crossed. Atleast not in this world. So, here I am, painting my version of goodbye letters.
A painting of my first real friend-Rin.
And a painting of my first real love-Roku.
They both are so selfish, aren't they? They both left me all alone... Not like I can complain when I'm the reason for their death.
Do I regret it?
No.
I don't.
My heart belongs to both of them. My love for them remains boundless. One's a platonic love and the other.. A romantic love.
These are going be my last pieces of artwork. I'll be sure to paint each stroke carefully, so that my decision belongs only to me this time. I won't let fate handle me ever again.
In the end, I finally decided to cut the only long lock of hair I had remaining. Snip. And there, my hair was no longer the same as before.
There's still some time left.
So I'll say this.
Thank you diary, for keeping me company.
If there is ever anything called reincarnation, then I hope that these thousand paper cranes I've folded will make my wish come true.
Let it be such that if I ever get the chance to be reborn, I get to meet Roku and Rin again.
Let it be such that I can make Rin my friend again and fall in love with Roku again.
Let it be such that they never remember this past, tainted version of me, and grow to love the new me.
Let it be such that fate can never control me.
Even now, as my tears drip down my face, I can't help but wait for the moment when I'll be reunited with them.
But if that never happens.... Then I'm not worth it.
After all, what much can a disillusioned heart expect?
Goodbye Diary.
• • • • • • • • •
Whether Yui lived or not, is uncertain.
But one fact remains true.
Not every story has a happy ending.