Haunting Memories by sesshomarusama33

A friend in need...

Prolouge

To the people who listen, I thank you. To the people who care, I admire you. To the people who helped, I cherish you. But to the people who turned away, I pity you. To the people who wouldn't listen, I fear for you. To the people who walked away, I sympathize for you.

All these entries you are about to read, as graphic as they can be, tell the story of a girl who had to fight to get what she desired. How she made sacrifaces to make something right. How she had to love and forget. Everything in this book make me cry as I re-read it, as the words seem to come alive and wrap me into my fears, the scenes described replaying in my head as I count each step I take. Not all the words are wounded, some contain a bit of happiness, limited as it may be.

So here is my life, I lay it before you in this journal, a piece of parchment waiting to be heard. As I write, I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, the words no longer inside of me, threatening my very existence.

Let's start at the beginning.

--

I woke up at my usual timing, 5:18 A.M. I've been waking at this time since I first learned what time itself was. Why do I wake at such an odd time? I don't know that answer for sure. Perhaps it's because I myself am odd and I feel comfort waking at a time frame so similar. Perhaps I liked to be different, or that I didn't like waking up at an even time. Who knows? I don't, I can say, but I don't let that unanswered question get to me. I have bigger things I deal with. Oddly enough, some have to deal with time..

This morning was like any other. I woke at the same time, in the same room, to the same weather outside. I couldn't help but shake off the feeling that someone was watching me, like something out of the ordinary was going to happen. I felt an odd shiver crawl down my spine, my body paralyzed in fear. The house contained an eerie silence, one that you saw in those scary movies you watch with you boyfriend or girlfriend because it's too scary to watch alone. I tried to avoid looking out my window, afraid someone would be staring back. So I opted to look at my feet. They were bare, my toes wiggiling as I felt the breeze come in from the window behind me. My black nail polish was chipped, a sign that I needed to apply a new coat on soon. Now my nails were probably the most girly thing I did. I didn't like pale peach as a color. Just too...plain.

Black was my favorite color, though it technically wasn't considered a color. I loved how it went with any other color or pattern and how it expressed my life. It wasn't a shock to must people that my wardrobe was consisited of black, red and white. Red and white are two other colors I adore. Sure, I have shirts that don't have all black, like the one I have planned out for today has hot pink on it. But, it was overbalanced with black. I love this shirt, just because it has the right amount of color on it, and because it hugged my curves and made my breasts look a size bigger. The shirt read "Official Designated Hottie" in hot pink. I loved it. I also plan to wear my black skinny jeans with a rip in the knee, my black and white ballet flats, and my black and white polka dotted headband. I love my wardrobe. It reflects my mood and how I'm feeling. The slightest bit of color would say that my lfie had some excitement, but the black said that it was mostly a fairy-tale gone wrong.

Why do I say fairy-tale gone wrong? I do that for many reasons. Fairy-tales, to me at least, don't always consist of a prince charming or that knight in shining armor, it could also be about finding the perfect family, a caring family. I compare my life to a fairy tale gone wrong, because I had a prince charming, but he turned out to be the wicked witch in disguise, and I never had a caring family, except my little brother, but his life was taken by a drunk driver. So you may look at my life and think I'm doing horrible, when in reality all those problems made me stronger. I grew strong for my little brother, as that's what he would've wanted. I grew strong for myself, and I grew strong so I could show everyone else that I'm just as good as everyone else, though their opinions never mattered.

My opinion mattered to only three people; My little brother Souta, myself, and...him.

He and I were best friends in the 3rd grade. He was my neighbor, so we would walk to school togethor. We'd get to school and put our stuff in the cubbys, ours always being next to each others. We sat togethor in our class, we ate lunch togethor, we played at recess togethor, and we would walk home togethor. Oh those were the days. I remember I actually smiled back then. I was actually happy. He was also my first kiss. It was a kiss on the cheek, but still, he was my first kiss. But I didn't know that that little kiss would turn out to turn into puppy love. One day at recess he and I got married under the oak tree on our playground. We had our friend Koga marry us. He put a plastic ring, one of the ones you get in a dispenser at the grocery store, on my left ring finger. I put a ring similar to his, exclusing the plastic gem, on his, too. Koga said the famous, "You may now kiss the bride," and my 'husband' kissed my cheek. I giggled and hugged him. He hugged me back, and then we proceeded to walk down the sidewalk, our arms looped. The other kids threw grass and skittles at us as we walked. Recess was over, and we got on our bikes we sometimes rode to school, and rode the home, imagining that the backs of the bikes had cans and signs that said "Just Married" on them.

One day though, he came to my face, his face covered in tears. I took his hand and led him into my room. He sat on my bed and I followed pursuit. Once I had seated myself on the bed, I looked to him. I got up and walked to my desk, grabbing the tissue box ontop the computer tower. I walked back over to him, the tissues tucked under my arm. I took one out of the box and wiped his eyes. I had never seen him cry, so I wasn't sure if he'd stop or if they would keep coming. His head lifted and his eyes met mine, his golden orbs clashing with my brown specks. His eyes closed, and then reopened back on mine. I felt a knot in my throat as he stood up and placed his arms around me. I didn't hesitate, I just wrapped my arms around him in a warm embrace. He let me go a few moments later, his hands found mine and he entangeld his fingers with my own. What is going on in his mind, I wondered.

"I...I'm moving..." he suddenly said.

I felt tears well in my eyes. Was this the reason he was crying? Was he sad he was moving away from me? He looked at me and wiped my eyes carefully, trying to not poke my eye out. I tried to smile at his gesture, but I found that I could not. This was so heartbreaking to me. My best friend, my 'husband', my first crush, moving away from me. Why was this happening? Why to me? Why? Have I done anything wrong? Did I forget to brush my teeth, and this was kami's way of teaching me a lesson? Suddenly I heard a knock at the door, making me almost jump in suprise. I looked at him and looked to the door.

"It's probably my dad," he said quietly, afraid that the person on the other side would hear. I nodded, then walked slowly across the room. My feet made small padded noises as they glided across the bamboo flooring. The coldness of the floor pulsing through my veins. I reached the door and just stared at it. The dark wood and the brass knob just sitting there, silently mocking me. I reached for the handle slowly, praying that whoever was behind that door wasn't there to take him away. My hand touched the knob and wrapped around the handle. I slowly twisted the knob clockwise, my heart skipped when I heard the click signaling that the door was open. I took a deep breath. Was this it? Was this the last time I would see him again? I opened the door slowly and looked at the person standing in the doorway.

The man in the doorway looked down at me and smiled. The light from my room hit his perfect fangs and glimmered. The man wore a black suit, matching loafers, and a red tie. I immediatly recogonized who he was by his outfit. I saw him on a lot of billboards on major highways, on some busses, ads in the newspaper, and even on the T.V. He was the richest man in Tokyo, I knew that, but what I didn't know was why he was here in my room. Had I forgot to pay for my juice at school and he was coming over to collect the money for it? I ran to my bed and got on my knees. The wood scraped me, but I was focused on finding my little change purse under the bed. I reached under the bed and searched for the familar texture of my coin purse. I found it and pulled it from my beds underside as I called it. I stood up and gracefully walked back to the man.

He looked down at me and cast me an odd look as if to say "What are you doing?"

I looked at my little purse which held at least 1. 08 inside. I counted it last night when I couldn't sleep. I shook it to make sure that I still had the money inside, and I did. The coins inside jingled and jangled with the purse. I looked up to the man and gave him the purse. He took it and looked at me.

"What's this for?" he asked me.

His deep voice echoed through my room. I had never heard a voice so dark and rich, so it had startled me for a minute. I was scared to answer him. Afraid to admit I forgot to do something important as pay for a juice. Well it doesn't sound important, but in my family, everthing I don't do is important. That's just how my mother was. She was a mean old woman.

I looked to the man and tried to avoid contact with his eyes. They reminded me of him, and if I were to think of him now, I'd cry.

"I forgot to pay for my juice..." I whispered lowly, ashamed at myself for forgetting something so simple.

I heard a deep chuckle from the mans throat. I lifted my head to his and watched as his arm outstretched, the coin purse in his palm. He took my hand and put the purse back in my palm.

"I don't need your money." The man looked at him and motioned for him to follow. "I'm here for my son."