Poniko's house.

Based off the game Yume Nikki. A chapter of a book I may or may not write some day.

I picked at the last bit of shiny pink nail polish on my big toe that hadn't quite chipped off yet. I was sitting on a pink rug in a room with pink walls and pastel-colored furniture. It was neatly kept and very perky. I did not belong at all.

Poniko sat near me, playing with some small dolls in a very fancy, big doll house.

I'm not really contributing much to our playing. When Poniko asked me which doll I wanted to be, in that cheerful, ringing voice of hers, I shrugged. I pointed at the house.
 "You want to play the house?" Poniko laughed. Not a mean girl laugh, a friendly laugh.

Thats what Poniko is, if I had to call her anything. She's a friend. We participate in various friend-like activities. We play with dolls and stuffed animals. We have scary movie nights, even though it never gets dark here. All I can see is a blank wall, and Poniko acts very afraid. 
As for now, Poniko is chattering away, pretending to be the dolls.
I was paying no attention to her, when suddenly she stopped and asked me:

"Madotsuki, why don't you ever seem to go to school?" she asked me, suddenly serious.

I kept hugging my knees to my chest, looking at her.
God damn it. Poniko is not supposed to talk to me this way. She's meant to fill my mind with bubbly laughter and girlish chatter that blurs into incoherence, to drink flavorless hot cocoa with me and offer to paint my toenails. Not to bring my real life issues to the forefront.

"You don't like school?"

I glared down at my feet.

"I wish I could go with you, but hey!-" She laughed, "I'm sure I'd fit in much less than you."

Poniko was beautiful. Long blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, wearing a dark green sweater and a long beige skirt. The outfit sounds kind of nerdy, but believe me, it works for her perfectly. Her voice sounded like an angel, her smile was like an angel, and she had the heart of an angel. The Japanese would find her absolutely Kawaii. She even had a Japanese name-- at least, my version of her did.

But me?

I had unusually tan skin, my face covered in freckles (unlike her nice white skin and perfect complexion), and my long blonde-ish brown-ish hair was almost the same color as my skin, just a bit darker. I always had it in two long braids. I wore a magenta turtleneck sweater and a darker reddish-pink skirt that went down to my knees. As for my personality, there isn't one. I live in my own mind. I never talk. I have not a single person to talk to any more.

Not since everything started happening.

 

"...I'd better get going." I barely whispered as I stood up.

"Okay. How do you say, 'come back soon!' in Japanese?" She asked.

I don't know. I can't speak Japanese. If I could, I'd have friends, probably.
I shrugged and pinched my cheek.

I woke up out of my bed, in the real world. Not knowing what to do now, I went over to my tv and started playing video games-- well, Nasu, to be specific. All you do is catch the falling eggplants in your mouth.

I sat in the dark, playing this game for about half an hour when my dad poked his head into my room.

"Hey, 'Tsuki. I see you're awake finnally?" He said to me. I nodded. He sat on my bed and watched me play for a minute before speaking.

"Now, I know you don't really like your tutor that much. But please, try to talk to her a bit more. I understand she's no Masada. But other than me, she's the only person you know who speaks english around here. Just try talking to her, she's really nice. If you don't.... she may quit on us. She says she's very uncomfortable around you. She also senses that you're disturbed. Suggested I get you to a psycologist before we ask of her services again. I'm starting to think maybe it's not such a bad idea."

I continued staring at the screen.

"We'll find one who speaks fluent english. One who you can relate to. Just like Masada, or maybe even better." he said.

Although you definatly wouldn't be able to see it on my face, with these words of his I became filled with anger. NOBODY CAN REPLACE MASADA!

"You know, if we get you a therapist, you can tell him or her about everything. Even your mother. Even those mean girls. All the things that a piano teacher, like Masada, is not supposed to be told about." he continued.

By now, I wanted to scream and cry. "Okay." I mumbled.

Then my dad left.

 

I sat, paralyzed, until I heared my dad leave the apartment- maybe to go shopping, to work a little more, I don't know, I don't care.

I heared the door to our apartment click as he left, and with tears welling up in my eyes, I threw the game controller on my floor and screamed. I screamed and sobbed out loud and pulled my hair.

At some point in my tantrum, I threw myself on the floor, and I just curled up and cried quietly on the rug.

Probably a few hours passed. When I heared my dad come back home, I quickly got up and scurried into my bed, pretending to sleep.

Just as I suspected, my dad came into my room and saw me "sleeping".

He sighed deeply, and left me alone once again.