Chapter 2A Chapter by corvus And upon meeting that girl again, I realised I wanted nothing more than something of convenience. If I were to recall the following
days after the meeting of this mysterious girl, I would say that it brought out
the worst in me. The fatal flaw has been revealed; in the end she would be my
undoing. Before this meeting, I’d been content,
I suppose; I can’t recall the emotion clearly. But afterwards, I remember an
increasing sense of dread. Naturally, my existence continued
to jolt forward without any differences or excitement, and thus this point in
time was rather boring. I do believe, however, it was this point that was
rather crucial in understanding my situation; my arrogance and supremacy only
helped to isolate me. Considering we, as an outlining
border, were not as indulged as the inner city, it was inevitable that such a group
of boys would end up stealing. Indeed, it was stealing that put us in the path
of that odd little girl. I won’t deny my infatuation. My
interest in her kept me from ordering the boys around, and thus we did not
partake in any secret jobs or looting for a few days. Unsurprisingly when I
launched myself from the ground and into the market place, they lazily called
after me but made no attempt to follow. I’ve never been particularly good
at expressing my emotions. This moment in time was no different; as I walked
into the centre of the market place I remembering wondering about nonsensical
and useless things that really didn’t need any thought. I understand now that
these were symptoms of shock " the shock of my meaningless existence. Soon, the sun died behind the
clouds, and the light pattering of rain resounded throughout the square. The
people began to melt away and I, too, retreated undercover, but did not leave
the marketplace. Had I left, I wouldn’t have noticed
the girl ahead of me, dragging boxes out of the rain. She was engaged in
conversation with one of the women who owned the stall. I feel obliged to warn
you I had no intention of approaching the girl. In dire respect, I retreated
further under cover, and turned away. Perhaps it was the confident look on her
face, a look that screamed purpose. Behind her were three older men,
frustration pervading their faces. They were eager to leave, and were making no
attempt to aid the girl. Instead, they yelled, “Nada!” harshly, and despite her
attempt to shut them out, on occasion she swung around to them, and waved them
down. “Nada…” I murmured out loud,
bringing my hand to rest above my eyes to shield them from the stray light that
filtered through the cloud. I smiled at the name; nothing. How ironic, I thought, to
have a name that means “nothing” but a look that screams everything. I turned back to the girl, who had
laughed light-heartedly at something her audience had said. She placed the box
beside the woman’s foot and shot her hand out to meet the other. They exchanged
a few words before she turned and saw me. Water ran down her robes to her feet
and a wide smile spread slowly across her porcelain-like face. I couldn’t help
but admire it. The one thing I’ll never forget
about this scene was the feeling of realisation when I noticed it. On her upper
right arm was a band made of cloth. She noticed where my eyes had landed and
touched the band softly before meeting my eyes. “Nada!” One of the men called
hoarsely from the nearby tree. The smile vanished from her features, a cloud of
darkness replacing it. “I’m coming!” she called over her
shoulder to the owner of the voice and the shouting stopped. Nada’s face
lightened as she looked up to me. I could see she was about to say
something, but then she paused and covered the band with her hand. She let go
of it suddenly, and retreated backwards, thumb pointing behind her. I nodded
once and she smiled coyly. The air swirled in response as she turned. Walking
away from me Nada’s mouth widened into a strained half-smile before the rain
and darkness consumed her. It was a simple scene, really, but
it baffled me. I bit my lip, remembering the cloth band. She worked for the
Soul Tower. I chuckled to myself. Well, no wonder. She was a magnificent
example of the values the Soul Tower promised to uphold, and yet I couldn’t
help the feeling of disgust that entered my system. I wiped the rain from my eyes, and
moved undercover. People had cleared out pretty quickly, and so when I spotted
a figure in a similar situation to my own, I yelled over to it. Half-way
through yelling I paused; what had overcome me to call over to a stranger? The figure snapped its head around
to face me, and jogged across the square. The figure became a man; he was
dressed in finery and had drenched dark hair. He brushed it from his eyes and
stood to my left. If it had been any other day, I
would have left immediately and trudged home, but there was something about the
fact the man had stayed out in the rain that interested me. He cleared his throat, but said
nothing. I turned to him and was about
to start conversation when my eyes wandered down his right arm. They met the
arm band of a Soul Tower associate. S**t. I bit my lip and looked away.
Judging from the way he was dressed he was the head of a Division. S**t. I had had no idea I was considered
that much of a menace. I rolled my eyes. Nada. Yes, Nada must have
reported me and the gang. In fact, they’d probably already been rounded up. I
was so caught up in these thoughts I didn’t notice the hand that had shot out
in front of me. I looked to it, and then up at the man it belonged to. He raised an eyebrow and bent his
head slightly. It was a questioning gaze, and I looked away to avoid it,
casually scraping my foot to the right in an attempt to get away. He snorted suddenly and retracted
his hand to his side. “My name’s Hiruko.” I looked around. “That’s great”, I
murmured, “Japanese?” He nodded once and looked toward
me. “You don’t look Japanese”, I said,
moving another step away. “Aaron-” He began. I felt the pit of my stomach open.
My heart began to race and I looked around, hoping for some way of escape. He
was from the Soul Tower to arrest me. After years of petty thieving and I had
invited my captor over to arrest me. He looked to me and frowned with
large blue eyes and tilted his head. “It’s coming.” His voice was
reasonably smooth but the tone he was using showed a slight restraint in his
voice, as though he didn’t want to sound scared. “What?” He sighed and turned away.
“Nothing”, he murmured, pulling a card out of his pocket. He handed it to me
and walked away. I paused and turned to where Hiruko
had stood. “What?” I said again, but then the pounding of the rain was too much
and the heat in my head was making me tired. ***** From then on it was hazy. I trudged
back in the dark, sodden and perplexed. The night lasted for hours, although I
had been certain it was in the early hours of the morning when I finally
managed to pull myself through the doorway. My head was spinning. I couldn’t
see very far ahead of me and the heat in my head made it impossible to rest
well. Thus I found myself lying awake but drifting in and out of a restless and
warped replay of the evening’s events. There was no noise. Footsteps
were silent, voices, however hard they struggled to produce some sound, silent.
She was smiling in the distance, long black hair dancing with the air, her
voice alone managing to drift far, meeting the lane as it wove up. Far ahead,
the cloak of white she now wore stood out against the night and a small shadow
that pranced out from underneath it wove his way through her legs. “It’s coming.” The cat purred and disappeared
under her feet. She stood undaunted by its words, laughing as her name was
called, whistling in the air to finally reach her ears. Still laughing against
the wind and purring as she twirled her way into the night, vanishing to claim
her name. And then the beating of drums
was no longer the rain but the sound of a pounding heart, healing from what was
left of it…
When I woke, I shot up to be
greeted by a dull throbbing in my head. My hand jumped to meet it and I lowered
myself back down onto the bed. I had crashed my way through the door the previous
night; clothes and objects where strung all over the room. Remembering with odd
clarity the dream from the night before, I frowned. Slowly, I pushed myself off
the bed, whipping up a few clothes from the floor and changing hurriedly. As I
was doing so the man’s card fell out of my pocket and onto the floor. I paused
and pondered it for a second before reaching down and picking it up. It was
laid out with contact details, a name, a number and a street address. He was
Hiruko, Head of the 2nd Division of the Soul Tower. There was no
last name. There really didn’t need to be a last name. The moment I stepped outside my
door I was greeted by Brian who looked a little more aghast than usual. He was
wringing his hands together and smiled sheepishly as he confronted me.
“Listen…” He began and I turned away immediately. I could smell the rot of
alcohol on his breath and shot him a quick, “No”, before moving away,
clambering into my jacket as the boy followed me hurriedly. “Aaron!” “No.” I said again. “I’ll pay you back, I swear”, he
pleaded behind me. “Just like you swore the other
three times?” “I need to pay Johnny for-”, and I
swung around to meet his apologetic smile. “You said you weren’t gonna get
involved with him again”, I said, frustrated. It was common sense to stay away
from that man. I frowned. “How’d you even make it to the Eastern Border without
anyone noticing?” We weren’t allowed to cross over
borders. The only place you could meet anyone from other borders was in the
communal city, the centre, the Soul Tower. “We met at the Soul Tower. We
always do that, it’s less obvious that way”, I snorted at this and he
continued, “And it’s not much, promise”, I turned to him once more, raising an
eyebrow, “Just a little. And then I’m out.” “You’re never just out.” I
murmured. “Trust me.” He bit his lips and shrugged again.
I sigh and turn away. “I spent eight years of my life with people like Johnny.”
Before I knew it I was pulling out my wallet and Brian had this huge grin
plastered onto his face. I pulled his hand out and placed the cash slowly in
his palm, “Last time, Brian. You tell him you’re out, that you mean it, that
you don’t want anything to do with this anymore. Let him play on the youngsters
in the Eastern Border, they’re more desperate.” Brian nodded continuously. “I
mean it. You’re out. You’re out, now, or you’re on your own.” He was off in a
flash, dashing around corners, still smiling. Idiot. Dave greeted me next and I gave him
a look that said I wanted nothing to do with him. “Look, we’re bored”, He began and I
waved him away and continued walking. “Just do whatever, Dave. Figure
something out with Thomas, I really don’t care anymore.” I could see him out of the corner
of my eye behind me, boiling, simmering, biting hard on his lip, and so I
paused until he was cooked and ready and he came pounding after me. I turned to
meet his fist on my face and the blunt jolt sent me back until I was coughing
on the floor. I wiped the blood from my nose away and shot up. “So, what, you’re just gonna
abandon us? After everything we’ve been through?” We were attracting some
attention now, turned heads and shuffling bodies trying to escape the scene.
Fights only attract Soul Tower officials, and no one’s a fan of them. “Look, we’re just going to attract
some unnecessary attention”, I began, but then he was going for another hit so I
moved out of the way and kicked him in the abdomen. He staggered back and sent
me a dark look. “Stop it.” I said, forcefully. “Just do what
you want because I’m not in the mood.” He snickered. It was pitiful, brawling
over my disinterest. “You’ve been weird since that girl. What, she got you
whipped already?” And it would have been so much easier to hit the boy then to
walk away, but I managed it and drew myself away from the scene without another
word. I did not expect to encounter Nada
again and so why I stepped out from my room I had no idea. It was a temporary
phase of fascination for this girl who seemed to so easily accomplish whatever
she put her mind to. There was something that set her aside from the rest of
us, something that I couldn’t place, sending my head spinning with obsession
for her. I have been told, irrefutably, and
on many occasions, that I lack a heart. I’d like this to be the moment, or one
of, that spoils this idea. You see, as I rounded the corner,
there she was. Shining, beautiful, just as she’d been the afternoon before,
except she appeared " I paused, and frowned, because I hadn’t seen the look on
her face for many a year, and the first time I’d seen it, it had been through
reflective glass, shining back a stricken child, helpless, pathetic and weak "
myself. Disgust poisoned my lungs for a
second and I turned away. The look on that girls face was one of desperation,
and I knew instantly why she was here. She wanted to talk. Oh yes, to talk, for
me to listen, but nothing more. Desperate for attention, not connection;
attention is a state of loneliness that results in nothing but a
short-sustained satisfaction. I sighed. Brutally, I was reminded of my sister,
for a sharp, solid second, and the shiver that ran up my limbs was not entirely
unkindly, but it was not something I enjoyed. I ran out after her. I never once
went back to that house in the four years it took for me to die. I often wonder
if I destroyed my parent’s lives. I hadn’t known whether she lived or
died, and so when I ended up where I had, I searched for ages and ages,
spending an incomprehensible amount of time in the central city, waiting for
her to wander by. She never did. Though I doubt she’s still alive. Nada was in front of me. I jumped,
surprised, and stepped back, turning away. “What?” I snapped, but there was no
bite to the word as it left my mouth, and it seemed her shimmering eyes
understood because she did not react. “People keep staring at me. Why is
that?” She cocked her head slightly, frowning. My brow furrowed and my hand shot
out to the patch on her right arm. I snagged the patch off, to her protest, and
grabbed her by the arm. “If you wanna walk around here like you’re all high and
mighty, wear the patch.” I flipped her wrist over and slapped the cloth into
her palm. “If not…” I turned around and continued walking. Several people
snapped their heads back as I walked. “People from the tower don’t
usually venture to the Borders”, I murmured, “You should know that by
now.” “Should I?” Her eyes flicked around
at the people who were looking at her. She scowled and followed suit, stuffing
the patch into her pocket and scurrying after me. “You want to speak to me or
something?” I asked, turning to her and walking backwards. She looked
unimpressed, disinterested, slowly meeting my eyes with a quick nod. “Sure.” I smiled, outwardly- inwardly,
grimaced. There’s a certain satisfaction one can achieve when talking to
someone who’s going to die. They’ve hit rock bottom, stared head first into the
certainty of death, but the lack of hope doesn’t cause chaos but an acceptance
of fate. You talk about your life, they talk about theirs " a mutual
connection, nothing less. When you’re talking with someone who’s already dead,
well, no one could care less about your problems. And that was exactly my
situation " she was gorgeous, sure, but that’s all I cared about. We reached my residence easily. It
was a squashed little house, spread out into two storeys, but that was simply
foolery. There was a single room upstairs, a cramped kitchen and a front room.
Somewhere in those few centimetres left they’d managed a bathroom, and you had
to go through the back door in the bathroom to reach the communal garden that
consisted of a simple courtyard and overgrown weeds. The house itself looked
ready to crumble. The doors constantly groaned and the stairs were ready to
cave in. They never had, but one day for sure… The front door always stuck. That’s
how I found myself asking for something of assistance " Nada pushing against
the part of the door jamb and me kicking repeatedly against the pane. It
eventually gave in and groaned open. I sniffed, gesturing for her to
enter. She stepped cautiously over the rot
and decay of clothes that lined the floor and stepped into the front room.
Slight chagrin built up on her face and she attempted to mask it with a simple
smile. I’d been living in the wreckage for years and barely noticed it, and so
I shrugged. What did I care about the opinion of a Soul Tower Official, anyhow?
“Look, I think we need to talk”,
she called hastily as I wandered into the kitchen. “Thought you wanted a drink?” I
asked, reaching around for a mug or two. Both were chipped but they were all I
had. “Well, yeah…” She murmured. “Yeah.”
She said again, and she sat quickly as I came back into the room with watered
down tea in a chipped cup. I couldn’t afford wasting the leaves all on a
visitor. “Aaron Mort”, I said, reaching out
my hand. She sipped the tea with something of caution " I saw the bitter look
as she tasted the watery combination- and put the mug down, reaching out her
own, “Nada Ito.” “I died five years ago.” “I died three months ago.” I withdrew my hand, frowning. Three
months? It had taken her three months to become an official? And then, immediately, she launched
into her story and I sighed, sinking back into the chair, barely listening. But
the way she spoke, not looking at me, as if trusting to me to have interest in
her words… it was disconcerting. “I met a man”, she said, “When I was alive. We
had a very nice conversation, and then two months later I’m in a hospital bed
and I look up, and there he is. The man I’d met. He leans down”, she murmurs,
bringing her hand to her face, “and he whispers, ‘Sleep’, and out of the corner
of my eye I see him cut the life support.” She paused and looks away, “I wake
up and there he is, the man, and he tells me he’s come to take me away.” She
smiled. “It was all very odd. Out of the sky appeared this great wooden door,
like they say happens in films, when you die, you know?” I shake my head and
she shrugs. “He takes me through, gets me a job, and then disappears. And I
mean it’s not much, the place I have, I-” She immediately paused and looked
around and bit her lip. I knew what she had certainly beat what I had. But what she’d been talking about
did not add up, and so I sipped my tea, and spoke of death and life for an hour
more before I stood and opened the door, and we said our goodbyes, and the way
I slammed the door said, “I want nothing more than this. This is the extent of
our relationship”, because it’s always lovely to have something of convenience,
and it always falls down when it’s anything more. That’s what I had learned,
and that’s how I intended to live. © 2012 corvusReviews
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corvusAboutHello! I'm a young writer very interested in improving herself and her writing... I love a wide range of authors, such as Tolkein and J.K. Rowling, as well as other who aren't as well known, such as A.. more..Writing
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