Chapter 5: The Safety of My Own Home

My walk from the train station to the subway station was almost relaxing. I was surrounded by people, and the bright lights shone down from the buildings around me. I felt safe where I was, even though the night crept over the sky. You could easily lose track of the time in the busy parts of the city, especially with the neon lights flooding the streets with their glow. It seemed like daytime, all the time.

It was loud, and thousands of voices overlapped one another. Unless one tried to listen to it intently, it just sounded like a beehive. It had always bothered me a little when I had lived there, but now it became a sanctuary. I was safe in the crowd. I blended in, and even the most malicious of spirits couldn't find me out of this many people. Or, that's what I thought, anyway.

I boarded the subway, and was happy when I found many a person on board. The seats were full, and the only place to stand was in a corner. I was absolutely delighted, and infinitely relieved. I stood in the corner, holding onto the strap placed there for support.

I had never enjoyed being around a ton of people. I loved the city dearly, however, and dealt with the slight discomfort of being around so many people. That day, however, I was almost maddened with the thought of safety. I sighed with contentment, with the thought that I was going to be normal again, if only for the weekend.

I looked to the window across the way from me, and saw the reflections of the other people on the subway. However, one figure stuck out. My heart pounded hard against my ribcage. My pulse throbbed in my head. My heart pumped icy blood through my veins, and my whole body tingled with fear. I froze, unable to tear my eyes away from what I saw.

In the image reflecting in the window, I could see myself, little girl peering at me over my shoulder. I could only see her eyes and her black hair matted to her head, but I could feel her presence behind me. My body stiffened, and I could feel her breath on my shoulder. Quickly, I spun myself around, fighting my body's paralysis from fear.

I could see nothing behind me other than the metal hull of the subway. Around me, people shifted in their seats, their gazes fixing themselves on me. I could feel my blood pumping to my face, turning it red in embarrassment. I turned back around, holding on the the strap. I didn't dare look back to the window for the remainder of the ride. I could feel a weight on my shoulder for a few minutes afterward.

Finally, the subway slowly halted, and I was the first out of the doors as they slid open. I hurried to the escalator, wanting to get home before anything else strange happened.

Moments later, I emerged into the night air, still among the tall buildings of Tokyo's outskirts. The lights flooded the streets, though less so than they did in the very center of town. A few people shoved past me before I realized that I was partially blocking one of the exits. I moved out of the way, and began to make my way back to the building I'd lived in since I was a child.

It took only minutes for me to get there. The building was surprisingly dark as I walked up to it. I entered the front door, and began to walk toward the elevator to get to my floor.

“Hey,” I heard from behind me. “You can't just head up without checking in.” The voice sounded old and strained. I recognized it immediately. I turned and walked toward the desk, and wrote my name down, as well as the apartment I would be visiting, and placed my ID on the desk.

“Hi, Mr. Asakawa,” I said cheerfully, happy to see a face that was familiar to me.

Toshi Asakawa was a kind, elderly old man that was often in the building. His sight wasn't the best anymore, nor was his hearing or memory. Most of the families in the building were very wealthy, so the owners enforced a check-in policy for anyone that didn't reside there. He was almost always out at the desk, ever watchful.

“My goodness,” he exclaimed, looking up at me from behind his bottle-cap glasses. He squinted. “Rei Kobayashi!” It had only been about a week since he'd seen me, and yet he had forgotten what I looked like. “Go on in, go on in,” he insisted, shoving my ID back to me.

“I'll be here for the weekend,” I informed him, smiling. I couldn't describe, nor can I now, how wonderful it was just to talk to someone as I had before this whole thing had started. For a few, brief moments, I was normal again. It all came back to me before too long, however. “I'll be sure to come and see you again before I leave, Mr. Asakawa,” I assured, my voice a little less bright.

“Alright,” he said, grinning just as he had almost every day I had seen him since we moved in. That man had watched me grow up.

I made my way into the elevator, and it seemed a little darker than I remembered. I pressed the button for my floor, putting my bag down for a moment. I felt the shifting of the elevator as it began its ascent. The light above me flickered briefly. In the highly polished surface of the elevator, I thought that I saw a figure behind me. It immediately put my world back into perspective.

The lights flickered again, and the whole elevator went dark. The only thing that I could clearly see was the light showing which floor I was currently on. I watched it slowly climb. I heard a few strange noises in the darkness around me. I did not, however, look away from the glowing numbers.

Ding. Second floor. I could hear ragged, labored breaths.

Ding. Third floor. The sounds of bones cracking and popping filled my ears.

Ding. Fourth floor. The ripping of flesh.

Ding. Fifth floor. Coughing and sputtering bounced off of the elevator's walls.

Ding. Sixth floor. No noises, but I heard my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I was keeping calm on the outside, but I was horrified.

Ding. Seventh floor. The lights came back on as the doors began to slide open.

I reached down for my bag, not looking where I was grabbing. I snatched it up, slinging it over my shoulder. It felt strangely heavy, the fabric of the strap digging into my neck. I stumbled backward from the sudden weight. I fell against the wall of the elevator, sliding down and landing on the ground.

From my bag, I saw a hand. It reached out, trying to grasp at my neck. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I closed my eyes and pushed myself to the corner of the elevator. I waited to feel the hand's cold grasp somewhere on my body, but it didn't come. I slowly opened my eyes, bracing myself for something unsavory.

All I saw was my bag, unzipped, and one of my white shirts was strewn on the floor. I sighed, climbing to my feet. I picked up the shirt, throwing it into the bag and zipping it up. With that, I walked into the hallway, and to my family's apartment.

The night with my family, other than what I already described, was rather uneventful. They were happy to have me home, even if just for the weekend. I was very jumpy and nervous, but they didn't seem to notice.

In my family, I didn't get excessive attention. It was my seven year old brother, the baby of our family, who got the majority of it. However, it had never bothered me. Especially then, I found that it was nice to have them not pay attention to every detail of my actions. That way I could keep all of the strange happenings to myself, and not have to lie about why I was so edgy.

A good while past eleven o'clock, everyone decided to call it a night and head to bed. Haru, my brother, was sleeping on my lap. My father said that he would take him to bed, but I insisted that I would in just a minute. Everyone else left the room, and I found myself running my hand through little Haru's hair.

I had always been attached to him. The hardest part about moving so far away was leaving him behind. It wasn't that I thought that they wouldn't treat him well. I simply loved him like he was my own. I always had, since the day he was born.

I picked him up, and already it seemed as though he had grown immeasurably since I had been gone. He clung to my neck, still fast asleep despite the movement. I opened the door to his room, finding that it was just as it had been when I'd left.

“Mom must've already pulled back the blankets,” I thought, noticing that they were folded over to the side. I sat Haru down and placed the blanket over him. I smiled as I watched him snuggle deeper into the warmth of the bed. I began to leave, and hear a loud squeaking sound as I placed my foot down.

I bent over to pick up the toy that I'd stepped on, but found that it was not, in fact, under my foot. I got on my knees, pulling back the sheets that draped the opening under the bed. I saw the toy immediately, and reached under the bed to get it. I felt something cold brush my hand. My entire body froze. I looked up on the bed, and was met face to face with the Haru from my vision.

His face was dark, and eyes glowing red. His hair was clumped and dirty, and his mouth, which was open in a grin, was full of rotted teeth. I gasped, falling back onto the floor, sliding myself to the wall, where I sat and watched in horror. My throat seemed swollen, and again, I couldn't make a sound.

A willowy, pale hand emerged from the darkness under the bed. It grabbed Haru, pulled him onto the floor, and into the shadows. For a moment, I could still see his face, mouth pulled back into the horrific smile.

I jumped up, ready to dive under the bed to grab him. When I stood, though, I saw that Haru was still laying in his bed, fast asleep as he had been when I brought him into the room. I carefully examined his face, shaking in fear. He looked normal. I wondered if it was just a front, some illusion caused by the spirits. I walked to him, and ran my fingers over his hair, which seemed soft and clean.

I sighed heavily, deciding to leave the room. They wanted me, not him. Aside from that, the presence was gone. I felt nothing. I placed the stuffed animal next to him, and close the door softly behind me. I went to my room, still shaking slightly.

My sleep, as one could assume, was restless that night. I was worried about my family. I had no idea what was in store for them, or myself for that matter. Would they be bothered by the spirits? Would they just focus on me? I couldn't answer for sure. I just told myself that I would protect them. I didn't want them to go through what I had.

The next day, I went out with my family, glad to be in the middle of a busy city again. At least with company of hundreds of countless people I could feel remotely safe. For the few, short hours that I was in central Tokyo, it felt as though nothing was wrong.

I was normal. I was myself again. I laughed. I had fun. I enjoyed my time with my family. I knew, though, that it would be all over soon. I tried to make the most of what I had before I had to return to my life. The real life that was falling apart every day. The one in which the true ways of the world were revealing themselves.

On the last day, the horrors returned at full force.

I spent the day at my family's apartment. Though I was surrounded by my loved ones, the spirits did not show mercy. I heard sounds that startled me, and no one else heard. The images on the television screen warped and twisted into terrible faces. In mirrors I saw tall, dark figures that no one else could see. The worst part was that I had to act like nothing was wrong. I couldn't jump or gasp as I saw the nightmares. I just had to sit and try my hardest not to alarm everyone.

As the day began to close, I packed up everything, getting ready for the long ride back home. I dreaded having the to take the trip, having to separate from my family again. Most of all, I dreaded returning to the house that I likened, and still do, to a hellish abyss.

The following morning, I woke up early to catch my train. I tossed my bag over my shoulder, feeling a little weak from everything. When your down time exhausts you just as much as when you are busy, you know that you have problems. I was completely drained.

I said my goodbyes to my family, hugging each of them before leaving for my home five hours away. As I got to Haru, I remembered the image of him with the rotted teeth and blood-colored eyes. I pulled him close, not wanting anything to happen to any of them. I held on for a few moments, trying to fight back my emotions. I let go and saw that he had a concerned look on his face. I smiled, trying to assure him that it was alright. He smiled back after a few seconds.

Faintly, as I left the apartment and walked toward the elevator, I heard sirens. Along with many of the noises one hears in Tokyo, I ignored it. I got into the elevator, heading to the bottom floor to leave my old home. I remembered, on my way down, that I needed to say my goodbyes to Mr. Asakawa.

I stepped out, making my way to the desk that the elderly man so dutifully guarded. There was a crowd of what seemed to be medics crowded around the counter, and also behind it. I stopped in my tracks and my heart sank.

There were people from other apartments, a few that I recognized and a few that I didn't, standing along the walls of the lobby. They whispered amongst themselves, looking to the counter and shaking their heads. A few of them that I knew had lived in the building as long as, or longer, than I had dabbed at their eyes with tissues. I knew that something terrible had happened.

I walked a little closer, not expecting what I saw. I gasped as I caught a glimpse of blood, Mr. Asakawa laying in it. His face was torn, from mouth to ear. His eyes were glazed over under his bottle-cap glasses, and I could see fear in them, even from the distance I was away. His face disappeared into a black body bag as a medic zipped it up.

I covered my mouth, trying to hold down the breakfast that mom had made just a couple hours earlier. I tightly closed my eyes, trying to get the image out of my head. My thoughts spun about my mind, and I couldn't focus on any one thing. After a few minutes passed, I walked out of the building. I didn't want to see my family after this. I just wanted to get away from those that I knew.

I hurried to the subway, desperate not to miss my train. My eyes were misty the entire time, and I couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Asakawa. I felt responsible, in a way.

Toshi Asakawa was not killed by a person, nor was it by any normal means. I knew that just by seeing him. The slit-mouth woman had killed him. Surely she had followed me, and was toying with me. The image of his face appeared every time I closed my eyes, and I couldn't stop thinking about my encounter with the slit-mouth woman.

My thoughts did not stray from these as I boarded the subway, nor did they as I boarded the train. The happenings of the weekend haunted me as I made my way back to my new home.

Those around me weren't safe, I wasn't safe... But most importantly, my family wasn't safe.